thought putting them out on a Sunday might give people a chance to get one, but word of mouth seems to have spread.”
“It’s because he won’t do a tour,” her colleague butted in. “No one knows what the guy looks like. A hermit or something. Signed copies will fly out the door when they come in.”
“Who says he’s a guy?” the other girl argued, handing over my copy and receipt.
I thanked her and left them bickering over the sexual identity of Griffin Stone.
Personally, I believed he was a guy. Maybe because his writing reminded me so much of Jamie’s.
Once outside the store, I pressed back against the shop window and cracked open the hardback. There on the title page was the same autograph I’d seen in Patel’s copy. Except my copy had a handwritten quote from the author too.
My favorite quote from the book.
I smiled to myself, delighted.
Suddenly, a shadow cast over the page, and I realized someone had come to a stop beside me.
Invading my personal space.
Frowning, I glanced up.
Then my stomach dropped, as though I’d just plunged down the Big Dipper on a roller coaster. Staring down at me, ocean eyes flat beneath his moody brow, was Jamie McKenna.
I had seen him last night.
My pulse rushed in my ears, and my whole body shook. “Jamie?”
His expressionless gaze flicked down to the book I now clutched to my chest, as if it were a life float. “It surprises me—”
I gasped at the sound of his deep, rumbling, familiar voice, with the East Coast accent he’d never fully rid himself of.
“—that a woman like you would enjoy a novel that traverses the dark forest of abiding love.”
His words barely penetrated. I couldn’t stop staring at him.
I wanted to reach out and touch him.
It had been so long since I’d done that.
In that moment, I forgot our last meeting. I forgot how he’d made me bleed inside. I reached for him. “Jamie—”
He flinched, the blank expression gone in a blaze of fury. He glowered in disbelief, and my hand dropped limply at my side.
In that moment, he reminded me of a wounded animal.
How could that be?
He wasn’t the one whose heart had been broken.
“What are you doing here?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
Yet he heard me. His lips pinched together, and my eyes dropped to them. Longing coursed through me in an agonizing wave, and I hated myself for it. Dragging my gaze back up to his eyes, I saw something calculating in them.
“What are you doing here?” I was louder now. Attempting to sound in control.
Jamie smirked, as though he knew better.
He probably did.
The bastard.
“It’s not safe for you to be here, Jamie.” I might despise him for hurting me, but I still … Jesus Christ, I still needed to protect him.
His eyes flashed dangerously as he bent his head toward mine. My breath caught and held as his scent flooded me. Jamie smelled different, I realized. When we were younger, he always smelled citrusy. Now, there was a hint of that, but something darker, earthier … almost like lime drenched in leather and tobacco. “Is that a threat?” he purred.
My lashes fluttered and I took a wary step back.
Was this happening? Was he really here?
“It wasn’t a threat.”
“No?” His cheek brushed mine, and I shivered involuntarily as he pressed his lips to my ear. “Well, this is.”
I tried to pull away, but he gripped my biceps tight, holding me in place so he could whisper, “‘A love that consumes, consumes everything unto utter desolation.’”
It was my favorite quote from Brent 29.
“When I’m done with you, there won’t be anything left.” He pulled back and gave me a benign smile that was an unsettling contrast to his threat. “I’ll be seeing you.”
Then he was gone.
And I felt like I might be sick.
“A love that consumes, consumes everything unto utter desolation.”
Oh my God.
Pushing away from the store window, I looked left and right to see if I could find him. Jamie had disappeared in the crowds. But my suspicion grew, and I needed to know if I was right.
My lunch break was almost over, but I didn’t care. Instead, I took the Glendale freeway to my rental in Silver Lake. Sliding into my allocated parking spot, I clutched my signed book to my chest and charged toward the main door, hitting the entry code. My feet pounded upstairs to the second floor, where I fumbled with my key as I hurried into my one-bedroom apartment. Marching into my bedroom/art