Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“A Declan Sterling original?”
It sounds so silly the way she says it; I duck my head to the side. “Yeah, yeah.”
I pull the blanket higher around us and lazily slide my hand up and down her back, nothing urgent, only the slow, familiar claiming my body seems to do on its own around her.
Her breaths soften, her body sinks into mine, her amusement tapering into a sleepy hum.
“Tired?” I whisper.
“No,” she mumbles. “Content. Very content.” She nuzzles against my chest. “And maybe a little exhausted.”
A smug rumble of laughter escapes before I can stop it.
“Cocky,” she scolds, tickling her fingers over my hip.
“You know it.” I capture her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her knuckles.
She sighs, a soft, content breath.
“We can talk body mods in the morning.” I tuck her closer to me and brush my lips over her forehead.
“You make a nice pillow.” She kisses my chest.
“Not going anywhere.”
After a few minutes her breathing evens out and slows.
I stare at the ceiling, one arm locked around her. The faint warmth of the curse prickles against my ribs. I should be worried about what’s coming for her.
Instead, I close my eyes, breathe in the scent of her hair, and let myself pretend—just for tonight—that she’s mine for good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Emery
Something sweet hits my nose before consciousness does.
Warm. Rich. Chocolatey.
My eyes blink open to a blur of weak sunlight cutting through unfamiliar curtains. After a slow, lazy beat, my memory kicks in.
Declan’s bed.
Declan’s chest.
Declan’s hands.
Declan’s everything.
Oh God.
Declan’s pierced dick!
That really happened. Heat rushes up my neck so fast my skin practically sizzles. I stretch, a sleepy yawn leaking out of me. Parts that haven’t ached in way too long wake up to remind me of all the things Declan and I did in his bed.
“Morning, little crow. How curious are you today?” Declan’s rich, rumbling voice greets me.
I blink my eyes open. Declan’s sitting on the edge of the bed holding the takeout box from the restaurant and a plastic fork like he’s my own personal tattooed chocolate-cake-for-breakfast angel.
I sit up, letting the sheet fall to the side. “I totally forgot about the cake.”
“Seems like a compliment.” He spears a chunk of the cake and holds the fork out to me. “I made you forget about dessert.”
“Yes, you did.” I scoot closer to him and open my mouth. He slides the fork between my lips, and the chocolatey goodness floods my mouth. “Oh my.” I meet Declan’s heated gaze and slowly lick the last bits of frosting from the tines.
“Still good?” he asks, dipping his fork back into the box.
“Mm-hmm.” I scoot closer and tease my fingers over the waistband of his shorts. “Why are you clothed?”
He slips a bite of cake into his mouth then offers me another one.
I slide my hand lower, touching his knee.
An image of the cemetery fires in my mind. Then the Widow statue. Not more visions. Memories.
The cake’s good but it’s not orgasmic enough to trigger the flashes I had last night. Why now? Can’t I enjoy a quiet morning with Declan?
Last night, we were as connected as two people could be so it made sense the curse might try to use that connection. Today, I need to figure out why it happened at all.
Whatever the reason, I’m too unsettled to keep flirting.
“I need to get to the shop,” Declan says.
“Right. Work. Yup. I should go back to the inn.” Heat fans over my cheeks. “Mrs. Applewood is going to wonder about me.”
“Then what are your plans?” he asks.
“Uh.” I glance down at my naked body. “Change clothes. Do a little research.” I can’t tell him about the images I saw. What if they mean nothing? Or worse, what if he tries to stop me from learning more?
Declan’s gaze flicks to my face like he can read every nervous thought tumbling around in my head. He brushes his thumb against my knee.
“What kind of research?” His voice is low and curious but not demanding.
A tiny pulse of heat flares under the mark on my arm. I swallow. “Just…following some threads I didn’t finish yesterday.”
He studies me for so long my skin prickles. But he doesn’t push. Or maybe he doesn’t want to know.
“All right, little crow.” He nudges my chin up with one knuckle. “Please be careful.”
“It’s daylight.” I nod to the weak light curling around the edges of the heavy black curtains covering the window. “I’ll be fine.”
He doesn’t seem convinced. “You’d be surprised how quick things can change.”
He holds the box and fork out to me and I take them, quickly stuffing my mouth full of cake so I don’t break down and admit what I saw and where I’m planning to go today.
While I finish the cake, he pads over to the closet and pulls a black—what else—sweatshirt off of a hanger and tosses it on the bed. “It’s pretty cold out. And your coat’s still a little wet.”