Chapter 10 Aurora #4
“Tell me, Aurora … do you bake?”
I’m just full of surprises, Mr. Aster. Hope you can keep up.
“Uh, no, not really. I’m an okay cook but a horrible baker,” I say distractedly, while I plop myself on the floor and open the front cover.
“Hm.” Ezra takes a moment to consider my response. Seeing this man confused is more amusing than it should be.
“May I ask why you chose this book, then?”
He seems genuinely curious, which throws me into a panic because I don’t have an intelligent or deep reason for my choice.
When I lick my lips, Ezra’s stormy eyes slip down to my mouth. Suddenly, all I want to do is run my tongue over the hard ridges of what I’m assuming is a beautiful body.
“Um, I don’t really have a reason. Sometimes I just … wait. If I’m patient, the right book always finds me.”
I keep my eyes glued to the little green book while my face turns several shades of red.
But my embarrassment quickly fades when I begin flipping through the pages, pausing here and there to admire the skillful artwork and carefully detailed directions.
I can almost smell the cakes baking and feel the sticky sugar on my fingers.
When I finally reach the end, I realize I’ve spent the better part of an hour in silence, drooling over this book.
I’m surprised to find Ezra sitting on the floor beside me. He’s discarded his suit jacket, leaving him in a vest and a crisp white button-up shirt.
The strange man watches me with a dreamy expression that seems completely out of character for him.
“Oh shit. I’m sorry, Ezra. You should have said something! I’m sure you’re a busy man. I can come back another day to finish the tour if you have other things to do.”
I hug the little book to my chest and push to my feet, trying not to look as flustered as I feel.
But Ezra’s faster.
One moment, he’s beside me. The next, he’s standing in my way, his voice weaving through my ribs and settling deep.
“I have all evening, Aurora, and I must admit your unique view of books has me curious to know more about you. The look of ecstasy on your face while you studied that book was a work of art. I could have watched you all night.”
My face burns hot when I hand the book back to him, then watch his quick, silent movements as he locks the book back in its case.
When Ezra turns around, I watch the shadows dance and twist across his beautiful, sharp features. If my hormones would fucking cool it for one goddamn second, I would ask about the playful shadows. But his voice has me frozen in place with a pathetic ache pulsing between my thighs.
He grabs his discarded jacket from a nearby shelf, then sweeps his hand toward the front of the shop and simply says, “After you.”
We walk side-by-side through the slim aisles, pausing here and there to look at the various titles on other shelves.
“So, Aurora. Thane tells me you’re new in town. How are you finding our little slice of Appalachia?”
“I’ve only been here about three weeks, and I’m enjoying it so far.
I needed to get away and try something new.
When Eve offered me a job, I packed everything up, bought my cottage, and, well, here I am.
This area is a little strange, though. The energy is kind of off, and I feel like sometimes there are things watching me from the woods.
It doesn’t feel threatening, just weird. ”
The words unwillingly tumble from my mouth, along with a soft, nervous laugh. No one has ever made my brain feel this muddled before. It’s confusing and disarming.
Ezra hums, the sound deep and deliberate, vibrating like his thoughts are trying to speak directly to my body.
“You’re perceptive, Aurora. Not many are.” He tilts his head, watching me too closely. “Lorewood is … different. Strange things linger here. Strange people, too.”
The charm drops from his voice, replaced with something sharper. More teeth than smile.
“If your gut ever warns you? Listen.”
Before I can respond, he leans in—close enough that I feel the cool whisper of his breath against my ear.
Control yourself, Aurora.
I breathe him in—cinnamon and pine, warm and crisp and entirely him.
My face heats as his knuckles gently skim along my cheek.
When I open my eyes, I’m caught by storm-dark irises that remind me of the deepest parts of the ocean.
I can’t look away.
His fingers trail down the side of my neck, slow enough to watch the way my skin flushes under his touch.
Then lower—drifting across my collarbone with an almost clinical fascination, cataloging every reaction.
The tension sharpens between us, stretching tighter with every breath, until it presses in from all sides.
I break it first.
“So, where do you keep the science fiction?”
The words spill out before I can stop them, my brain scrambling to catch up.
Ezra chuckles, drops his hand, then tips his head toward an aisle a few rows down.
I move in that direction, forcing slow, steady breaths as I go.
Once I’m sure he’s not watching, I lift my hand and follow the trail his fingers left behind.
Did that really just happen? Again?
The shelves are lined with paperbacks, most of which I’ve already read. The titles blur as my eyes skim past them. I’m not really looking. I’m stalling. Waiting. Wondering what he’ll do next.
While I browse, Ezra’s deep, playful voice drifts through the shop.
“What do you do for fun, Aurora? Besides read, of course, and judge the literary tastes of strangers.”
Heat blooms across my face once again.
Sure, I’m embarrassed by my misjudgment of him, but I’m done with this nervous little mouse bullshit, even if he makes my nerves prick with static and ice.
It’s time to find my voice and allow that tiny flicker of fire that sits nestled deep in my chest to burn.
“Um, I spend a lot of time outdoors. Hiking and gardening, mostly. I knit, too, but nothing fancy. I only know one stitch, but if you ever need a scarf or a blanket, I’m your girl.”
I jump when my phone chirps with a text message.
Pulling it from my pocket, I cringe at the number of texts and memes Jameson has sent in the few brief hours I’ve been here. I can’t decide if I’m flattered or annoyed by his constant onslaught of messages.
As I scroll, I see a meme that makes me chuckle, so I decide I’ll throw the guy a bone and respond.
But my fingers freeze over the screen when that deep voice—warm and teasing a moment ago—erupts from every corner of the shop, dripping with possessive, barely-contained rage.
“Everyone you know knows you’re here. So, who’s making you smile at your phone like that?”
The sound slices through the quiet, curling tight in my chest. I scan the shop, caught somewhere between a shiver and a spark, looking for the man who just turned jealousy into foreplay.
There’s the boundary-pushing asshole from this morning.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but Eve set me up with someone. We’ve been texting back and forth for most of the day. He seems sweet, like a man who knows where to draw the line when it comes to women.”
A self-satisfied smirk curls one side of my mouth while I lightly graze the book spines on a nearby shelf.
Why am I trying my damnedest to piss off the stupidly hot nightmare in a suit standing only a few feet away?
After what happened between us a few minutes ago, I might be poking a monster, which sends a heated thrill through my body.
The idea of being possessed by this man makes every sensitive part of me ache.
My feminist theory teacher would be so disappointed.
But, on the other hand, fuck Ezra and the personal questions he has no business asking.
A quiet, vicious sound shivers through the air right before Ezra appears in front of me.
How the hell did he do that?
I’m too shocked to move, and as my heart tap-dances in my throat, I realize I’m all alone with a man I barely know.
He wouldn’t hurt me … Would he?
Anger blazes in Ezra’s eyes when he looks down at me. There’s an ominous shadow lurking behind him, growing and shifting forms until it finally settles on a huge canine with deer antlers.
It’s beautiful and terrifying.
It’s not a wolf or a shepherd or any retriever I’ve ever seen.
Is that a massive Irish wolfhound?
The other shadows were playful and mischievous.
But this one? This one feels dangerous.
It’s almost like Ezra’s shadows mirror his moods.
But … that’s impossible.
That’s fantasy and monsters and the supernatural, not reality.
I shift my eyes from the terrifying shadow back to the seething man standing in front of me.
“You … are going on a date?” he asks through clenched teeth as he glares down at me. “With whom?”
Fuck this guy.
I refuse to be bullied by someone I barely know.
With my feet firmly planted on the floor, I say, “Again, it’s none of your fucking business, but yes. I’m going on a date. Friday evening, in fact. He’s new in town, and we have a lot in common. Why the hell do you even care?”
The flames of rage lick wildly at the flesh beneath my skin, and through my red haze, I notice Ezra glance over his shoulder. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath. Eventually, the deer-hound shadow flickers and fades.
Am I trying to make him jealous?
Holy shit, I am.
I want this man on his knees begging for me.
Christ, that’s a strange thought.
Maybe he’s just worried about me, like Thane was earlier.
No, that’s definitely not it.
I clench my fists at my side as I lean toward the man with the strange shadow and smile sweetly at him.
Ezra smiles back just before he takes two steps toward me, pinning me against a bookshelf. His arms cage me on either side, and he leans in close, his breath hot against my ear.
My resolve wavers, just slightly, but the anger still burns beneath the surface, making it hard to think straight.
And Ezra? He’s tossing Molotov cocktails into the fire just to watch it rage.
“Well, well, sweet little Aurora can get angry. Rage looks good on you, darling. I could watch you burn all fucking night.”