Page 46 of Haunt Me

“I haven’t been anywhere,” she says.

“If you could go to one place, what would it be?”

“A graveyard,” she replies at once and I spit out my water.

“You wanna what?”

“I read it in a book.”

“Oh, well, in that case… What kind of book was it?”

“Anne of Windy Poplars,” she replies. “It’s the second book in theAnne of Green Gablesseries,” she adds by way of explanation. As if that helps me at all.

“More information please? For those of us who are literature challenged?”

“Well, in the book, Anne walks around a cemetery, reading inscriptions on the tombs about people who died decades ago, and tries to imagine their stories based on what little is revealed on the stones. She mostly make things up.” Eden shrugs, as if she doesn’t care, but her eyes are glittering in excitement.

“Right,” I say, getting up. “Put my coat on.”

“And what will you wear?”

“You.” I grab her by the waist and lift her off her feet. She giggles and shrieks, and wiggles around. I spin us both until we get dizzy.

Her hair flies out of her braid and into my face, and I turn her around against my chest until our faces are inches apart. I am breathing heavily, but not because it’s any struggle to carry her like this. It’s because I’m trying so hard not to kiss her. And I’m losing. I lower my head over her lips, and she goes absolutely still in my arms. She goes limp, waiting for me.

Scared and excited at the same time.

Fire travels up my spine and explodes behind my mouth, making me feral.

“Does this Anna of yours,” I whisper in a voice hoarse with emotion and need, “get kissed in the books?”

“It’s Anne,” Eden whispers back. Her breaths are coming short and her chest is moving rapidly up and down. She is shaking like a leaf in my arms, and it takes all of my strength not to fold to the ground, holding her like a treasure, and kiss the perfect skin around her mouth. “With an ‘e’,” she adds, her eyes diluted, dazed. “And yes, she does. A lot.”

She opens her lips, and I do too, mirroring her. My hips thrust out to support her weight better as my hand slides up to the back of her neck, bringing her face close to my mouth. Our breaths mix, panting with want.

I am past the point of stopping. Every single part of me is burning for her, but every single brain cell I have left—two, tops—is screaming at me to stop. It’s too soon. She is not ready. I am not ready.

“Let’s go then,” I murmur, my voice choked, “by all means.”

I gently lower her to the ground, and she almost topples over as he knees buckle. I catch her and smile.I did that to her.It’s good to know I’m not the only one dying for her. My arm is securely around her waist; I won’t let her fall.

“You ok?” I ask.

Her cheeks have gone deliciously pink again as I help her regain her footing, and I swear, it almost undoes all my hard work of controlling myself. I have to look away or I will lose all sense of control. Utterly and completely.

“Yeah,” she gasps. “Tombstones. Let’s go.”

We walk the short distance to the old chapel, its steeple dusted with snow, the pavement crunching with salt under our boots. On the way, Eden gets so cold she can barely move, so I bundle her in my arms and get her inside a bookstore so that she can get warm before we go on.

She is looking at all the books with so much longing, barely daring to touch them, and I decide then and there to become a billionaire as soon as possible, so that I can buy her every single volume. Twice.

We stay in there for all of ten minutes, and I don’t kiss her.

I almost do. But I don’t. It’s the third time—and it’s too close to the second one.

I’m going to lose this battle, aren’t I?

No, I am not going to lose this battle.