Page 50 of With All My Haunted Heart

Footsteps in the hallway draw my attention, but instead of coming back into the dining room, Elle continues down the hall toward the front door. Okay then…I guess she’s ready to go.

I grab my grimoire and head for the stairs. “I need a few things from my room before we leave.”

“Alex is gone,” Elle says, turning away from the front windows and coming back down the hall.

“Right, he—”

And then she’s kissing me.

The grimoire slips through my fingers, falling to the floor with a thump as my hands find their way around Elle’s waist. Her mouth is hot against mine, insistent and claiming, and she threads her fingers through my hair. I kiss her back, caught up in the heady rush of desire that erupts at each point of contact.

But then the cold distance of last night rushes in, and I break away from the kiss.

“What are we doing?” I ask, my breathlessness stealing the bite from the words.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I thought…” Fire blazes across her cheeks. “You seemed into it yesterday. I assumed—”

“I was,” I admit, hurt and hope fighting for dominance inside me. “But then you shoved me away like you were embarrassed.”

You have disgraced this family for the last time.

Elle’s posture deflates. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that Alex came home, and I…”

“You what? Couldn’t bear the thought of him finding out that you’re attracted to me?” I demand, my voice louder now. Edgier. “You threw me away like I mean nothing.”

You are no longer an Erikson.

The last thing I need right now is my mother’s disappointed voice echoing in my head, but I can’t turn off the shame that courses through my body at the onslaught of memories. That first NACOW failure rears its head again, when I’d argued with a dignitary from the UK about the possibilities of altering traditional sigils.

I knew—from my own hidden experiments at home—that it was possible to alter sigils without weakening their effects. I didn’t realize the stuffy old witch I was arguing with was a curator of magical history and a staunch traditionalist. I also didn’t know he was in town specifically to negotiate an agreement with my mother.

An agreement that my brazen disregard for tradition nearly toppled.

“Pippa?” Elle’s voice is gentle, and the way she studies my face with such earnestness makes my heart ache. She reaches for my hands, a comforting touch instead of a romantic one. “I’m sorry. I should have realized how it could look, especially with your family history. I wasn’t trying to throw you away. I do like you, Pippa.”

“Really?” I ask, unable to keep the surprise out of my voice.

“Yes, really.” Elle slides her fingers between mine and squeezes tight. “Under different circumstances, it would be totally fine if Alex found out. Although, I don’t love the idea of him walking in on me making out with anyone.” She shudders, the motion shaking down her arms and into mine.

The remembered shame starts to bleed away. “What circumstances?”

“The Barrett of it all.” Elle scowls, and if looks could kill, Barrett would be a dead man. “I know Alex told you some of it, but you weren’t there in the immediate aftermath. I’ve never seen him that devastated. The B&B is a helpful distraction for him, but I know he’s hurting. Way more than he lets on.”

My heart aches to think of Xander hurting so deeply. I hate that I wasn’t there for him, that he’s still keeping some of it hidden away. I wish I could make it better, and as much as Elle’s reaction yesterday stings, I do get it. If she cares about Xander half as much as I do, the idea of making things worse for him would be unbearable.

“You don’t want him to know about…” I fumble for the right description. “About whatever’s happening between us, because it’ll reopen the Barrett wounds.”

“Exactly.” Relief softens her posture, and she leans close until I tip my forehead down to meet hers. “I’m not hiding this because of who you are, Pippa. I’m trying to protect him.” Elle reaches for my hips, and when I step closer, she folds her arms across my back.

“I get it,” I say, my words weighted in the tiny space between us. “I don’t want to hurt him, either.”

Her relieved smile makes this entire conversation worth it. “If you’re okay with being discreet, I would very much enjoy finding moments to be alone over the next eighteen days.” She tips her face up to mine until a single deep breath would close the gap between our lips.

“We’re alone now.”

“Yes, yes we are.”

This time, I’m the one who presses forward. I kiss Elle slowly, thoroughly, like we have all the time in the world…even though she already gave me a deadline. An expiration date.