A luscious bed in place of a bathtub.
And Bash, every button, zipper, and lace undone.
He laughed as his mouth met hers, not protesting at all when she fed her inspiration and tacked on a final fourth. And the feeling overwhelmed her. It was so muchmorenow. More than satisfying any craving or grasping for a distraction. Bash shrugged out of his shirt in the same breath he dragged at her lacings, and Alora broke from him gasping to kiss each scar she could see.
The wound she’d inflicted upon him with the hairpin did not leave a lasting mark, but she hated that he was marred from the time he’d known her. She would add a new layer of memories over those harsh ones now. They wouldn’t ever go away, but perhaps she could dull their sharp edges for him. She was nothing if not hopeful.
“What have you done, Alora?”
She allowed Bash to tilt her chin away and toward the wall. And she looked at the pair of them. Standing there, skin to skin, bared to the room. His kohl-lined eyes were dilated and dark to mimic her own, his fingers pressed firmly into the soft flesh of her hip and her jaw. She flushed in seeing them together this way; it almost felt unreal.
And she could only smile. “I cleaned the mirrors,” she said—and promptly pushed him onto the bed.
***
Outside the grounds, Bash wrested the chains holding the gate back into place. The key on the padlock clicked, echoing against the pale stone. It didn’t look so intimidating now, and notonly because there was no gold-armored guard. It looked tired. Worn. Not the least bit enchanted. Alora shoved her mangled membership card into the links.
“That’s that, then,” he said, seeing it.
This time, it really did feel like the blessed end.
“Did I mention Reginald is Reginald again, and Ellie Turkens hired him for her bookstore? She said she’s always wanted a handsome young man about, and he’s happy to be out of the sun. Mister Macaw did take your advice, too, and rented that land for his nursery. Also!Lennox bought her own flat! It might have more windows than mine.”
“Good, they deserve it.” But a muscle feathered in Bash’s jaw. “And that bakery?”
“You know the name.”
His tone dropped, almost a growl. “Have you gone?”
“No,” sighed Alora. “But I did see Mister Whitters the other day and he seemed happy with the arrangement. He doesn’t remember anything at all, Bash.”
“I’d rather he not be anywhere near this town.”
“He goes by Will now, I’m told. Mister Whitters says he’s hardworking, wakes up to start the ovens every morning. Likes the heat, he thinks—”
“He should be clearing sewer drains.”
Alora pursed her lips. She’d neither forgive nor forget what William had done either, and she might always have her bakery items delivered by bicycle. But Mr. Whitters knew the entire story and seemed willing to report any concerns. So far, there’d been none.
If there were, Alora knew Bash would see William removed in a heartbeat.
Bash whistled and Necros trotted toward them. When the horse neared, he gripped her waist, lifting her up behind the saddle. He followed soon after.
They’d made it onto the not-so-secret-anymore path through Renwick Forest when Alora, smiling devilishly, dipped wandering hands beneath Bash’s coat, pressing her body against his.
She yelped when his hand gripped her wrist, hauling her around the front and into his lap.
His mouth bent to her ear, where he rasped, “This won’t end the same as last time.”
Thank heavens,she thought.
Epilogue
“He stole my case of cigarillos once,” said Lennox to Alora. Her thickly stockinged feet tapped disjointedly on Alora’s terrace stones, and she twirled a flower in her fingers.
“He did?”
“He did. I caught him with one, lit and all, and plucked it right out of his filthy mouth.”
