Page 30 of Old Flames

Hands balled into fists at her sides, she said, “I felt everything on that tour. The sorrow, the terror, the incomprehensible grief . . .”

“You’re a sensitive person.”

“I’m not,” she said. “I’m stronger than this.”

“No one is strong all the time,” he said. “If you need to lean on someone, I’m here.”

“Forget it. And don’t let me keep you from all this.” She gestured at the bar and all of Duval, as if any of that mattered. “I don’t want to spoil your fun.”

Fun? A debate raged inside him. He struggled with how much he ought to reveal. “All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, given the chance.”

“Leo,” she said. “You’re not my knight in shining armor.”

What if he was? What if this feeling, this desire, was a calling, a destiny? It felt that way, bigger than him, demanding action. He’d dropped everything to drive down here to see her—not that he’d had a lot to drop, but that wasn’t the point.

“July, I’m on a quest here,” he said. “And I’m one determined motherfucker.”

Oddly enough, that line earned him a genuine smile—wobbly, but no less glorious.

She stepped closer to him, reduced the space between them to nothing but a slice of air. “Aren’t we friends? Why do you keep calling me July?”

“Personal preference,” he said. “I like the way it rolls off the tongue.”

Laughter swirled around them. She eased closer still. “Say it again.”

“Say what, Jelly Bean?”

Her laugh was low, gentle. Finally, the sound Leo had been aching to hear!

In the next breath, his mouth was on hers. It wasn’t anything they’d decided to do, it just happened, as effortlessly as dawn breaks. With a hand on her waist, he drew her even closer. His tongue explored her mouth. He wouldn’t have stopped even if the world came crashing to an end. However, their world did crash, the commotion originating inside the bar. Vicky’s voice, clear and distinct, cut through the noise: “Oh my God!”

Jules broke away from him, her lush mouth open, panting. “That’s Vicky.”

Because he was her sworn knight, warped armor and all, he sprang into action, no matter how much it distressed him. He took her hand and led the way.

10

Vicky wasn’t in danger, but Dick had to be rescued. As Vicky put it, he’d fallen and couldn’t get up. Sebastien explained that the older man lowered himself onto a barstool, miscalculated, and landed on his back. Matty gave him a hand, tried to lift him up, but Dick yelped with pain. The manager called an ambulance. Dick was wheeled out of the bar on a gurney, feetfirst but very much alive.

Daphne met them at the ER. An X-ray showed a displaced fracture to the tailbone. Arrangements were made for him to be air evacuated home. The rest of the group ordered a ride and returned to The Aurora.

Jules climbed the stairs to her room, exhausted. For a long while, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, a ribbon of fear coiled around her heart, keeping her breath shallow. The ghost tour had left its mark on her psyche. If Leo hadn’t been there, his touch grounding her, she might’ve lost her mind.

Jules could not explain what she’d experienced while riding around the city on that trolly. From the beginning, every landmark the guide had pointed out—houses, hospitals, churches, and bars—glowed with a strange light. At the memorial ground where the children were laid to rest, golden orbs shimmered like fireflies.

There was no one she could share this with. They’d all think she was insane.

Restless, she slipped out of bed, drawn to the window. Housekeeping had lowered the blinds and drawn the drapes, but she reversed that as soon as she walked into her room. The view of the garden enchanted her. Now, in the night, the pergola gleamed invitingly. In no time, she was out the door and down the stairs, making her way to the ground floor on tiptoe. Everyone was on edge. If a floorboard creaked, they’d be out of their rooms, chasing her down with pitchforks.

Jules stepped out into the night. The air had a chilly current, which shocked her considering the day’s oppressive heat. She made her way to the lone bench beneath the pergola, but step by step got no closer. Feeling unsteady, she lowered herself onto the grass and watched, horrified, as the night sky receded, dragging away the house.

This is a dream. This is a nightmare.

A second veil of darkness covered the garden. Jules could not see past her hand. She couldn’t hear a thing, not the hum of life or her own heartbeat. If she stayed on the ground, she’d die tonight. She was certain of it. Struggling for balance, she pushed herself onto her feet. A deep breath. Another. One step. Another. She made it to the bench and dropped her head in her hands until her heart rate steadied.

She was alone in the garden . . . until she wasn’t.

When Jules looked up, her mother was there. No, not her mother . . . a reflection floating on the surface of a lake or sliding off glass.