Page 17 of Lost in the Moonlight

My attempt to change the subject didn’t go unnoticed, but he seemed to accept it. Relief and a strange giddiness washed over me as I realized I’d won the dare. I’d pushed, and he’d given in. I had a feeling it didn’t happen often. I’d bet every last, limited dollar in my bank account that Lincoln Matherton wasn’t used to people ignoring the commands he issued.

His voice dropped an octave as he responded. “I started something new for the first time in over a year. I guess I have you to thank for it.” An eddy of dark emotions existed in those words, like a secret pond hidden in a shadowy forest. Emotions that might drown me, ripping away the light I’d fought for in my life, and yet I found myself stepping up to the waters anyway.

“Me or Poco?” I teased, wanting him to say it was me as much as I wanted to continue flirting just to test these new depths. I wanted to see if, instead of him dragging me toward the murky waters, I could fling the sash wide and let the sunshine burn through the gloom around him. Let it burn through both of us.

His blue eyes narrowed. “I saw you before. You were at the cemetery on Sunday also.”

My stomach lurched at the question I heard there. The desire to know why I was spending time in the dark with the dead. But before I could even decide if I’d respond or not, the bell jingled over the door, and three college girls hurried inside, bringing the remainder of the damp and wind with them as they laughed and joked with each other.

It jolted me back to reality in the same way the hail on the roof had earlier.

For the first time in forever, having to get back to my baking felt like a burden instead of a gift. I wanted to stay right here, taunting Lincoln until he gave me that stunning, real smile I’d seen briefly in the car. But instead, I’d go back to work, holding on to another tantalizing memory where I’d flirted and bantered with a famous artist, and later, I’d add it to my list of beautiful experiences.

The sound of the door brought Hector from the kitchen. He glanced over at Lincoln and me again before wiping his hands on a towel and stepping up to the counter to help the trio.

“I have to get back,” I said, pointing toward the swinging door. “Lemon poppyseed scones are calling me, but thank you again for stepping in and also for knowing when to leave things alone.”

It was a preemptive thank you because he hadn’t said he was letting it drop. But all I wanted to do was put the entire thing behind me.

Ihadto put it all behind me, including Lincoln.

Lincoln picked up the drink and scone before saying, “I’ll see you around, Willow.”

And in that handful of words, I heard a quiet promise that sliced right through my intention to be done with him. Because it was clear Lincoln wasn’t done with me. He hadn’t gotten the answers he wanted. I’d thought he’d backed down from the dare, but instead, he’d simply called a momentary halt to the war.

It thrilled me as much as it terrified me.

My body was glad, humming softly as if loaded up with sugar and cream. But my conscience was screaming at me to stop this before it went any further.

As I watched him stroll out of the café, one of the three teens followed him with her eyes before swirling back around towhisper to her friends as if she’d recognized him. And that right there was just another reason why spending any time at all with Lincoln was an impossibility.

The answers he wanted weren’t going to happen.

? ? ?

The kitchen was spotless as I tossed my apron into the hamper with a pile of towels. The café was hopping with noise I could hear through the swinging door. Ted and Shay were out front, but Hector was in his office when I went to grab my things from the lockers.

He pushed his glasses up on the top of his head and set aside his paperwork as I let my hair down and pulled a gauzy skirt on over my leggings.

“Want to tell me what really happened?” he asked.

I sighed. “Truly, it was nothing. You know how Poco is. Sort of creepy, pushing to see how far he can get. But he always walks away.”

I wanted to believe if Lincoln hadn’t shown up in the cemetery, I would have been able to convince Poco to let me go. I just hadn’t had the chance to get that far.

“I can refuse to serve him,” Hector said.

“It’s not necessary, really.”

Hector’s kind eyes took me in. “Make sure your mom knows so she can keep an eye out.”

I didn’t really want to disrupt her good mood. But if Hector knew, it was just a matter of time until Mom did, especially if the plans Shay and I had been making to throw them together took shape.

I shouldered my bag and slung my coat over my arm. “I’ll tell her. But you worry too much. Everything is fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As I headed out, my feet halted in the hallway, thinking of the dark and shadowy places in the alley. After a brief internal debate, I headed for the front entrance instead, making my way through the throng of customers, relieved when Poco wasn’t one of them. I hated that he’d returned to me the skittish feeling I’d finally shaken after the trial.

I’d lived four years waiting for the shoe to drop while the wheels of justice turned slowly in Chicago. I’d waited for the Viceroys to find us—for the worst to happen. The first year here, I’d rarely left the house. The second year, I’d signed up for classes at Bonnin and felt both relieved and terrified to leave the four walls of our cottage. But blending in, staying invisible, had still been the goal. Needing to lie about who I was had made me uncomfortable enough that I’d been afraid of making friends in case I let something slip I shouldn’t. Something that would lead Aaron Vitale and his gang to our door.

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