A soft brushing sound broke through the whisper of the corn—like the distant flutter of a moth’s wings.
I followed the sound down the ladder, through the living area to the front door. I cracked it open. The black silk ribbon blew in; it had been tied to the doorknob. I freed the silk and wrapped it around my wrist, tucking the ends directly under my pulse point. It felt warm, like someone had been holding it tightly. I knew that scent by heart. Strawberries, earth, musk, and sandalwood.
Dane.
Stepping outside, I closed the door behind me and stood at the foot of the walkway, staring out into the darkness. He didn’t make a sound, but I knew he was there.
“Thank you,” I called into the void, not really expecting an answer.
“You’re welcome.”
A smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. Stepping off the cobblestones and onto the grass, I crept toward the sound of his voice. The grass was cool and damp beneath my bare feet. I stumbled into some kind of ditch, tripping over what felt like tree roots.
“Oh God.” I careened forward, and Dane caught my waist. “It’s so dark out here,” I said as I righted myself, but I still couldn’t see his face.
“You’ll get used to it,” he murmured.
I liked the way he said it, like maybe he was getting used to me, too. But I knew that kind of thinking was dangerous. Nothing more than a honey trap.
“I could light a fire,” he said.
I squinted in his direction, trying to make out his features. “You just go around making fires in people’s yards?”
“Well, you’re standing in the fire pit.”
My face warmed. “Of course I am.” I backed out of the pit to stand on the grass again. “Do you use a flint?”
“I can, but that’s a little old-fashioned, don’t you think? I make my own matches. Trade them for things.” As he lit a match, I caught a glimpse of him. Firelight was kind to just about everyone, but what it did to Dane’s face was . . . criminal. His skin took on a gorgeous tawny hue, and his eyes became even more luminous and penetrating, twin flames reflecting in their dark pupils.
As I lowered myself onto the ground near the fire pit, he surprised me by settling next to me, his arm resting only a few inches from mine. I felt raw energy ping between his body and mine; I had to will my arm not to inch closer.
I stole a glance at his face. “Aren’t you worried we’ll be seen together?”
“Henry’s drunk. Your brother and Beth are asleep. We’re alone.” He looked at me and I felt so light, like I could float away.
I forced myself to sit up straight . . . stay grounded. “How did you know Beth was here?”
He smiled. “I’ve never seen her take to anyone the way she’s taken to you and your brother. It’s nice. She’s been on her own for so long.”
“Please tell me you know what the word hump means.”
Dane cringed a little. “Yeah, some of the kids kind of messed with her after she fell.”
“That’s terrible.”
Dane shrugged, but I could tell that it bothered him, too.
“What happened to her?”
“Head injury. She’d been acting strange before the fall, running around telling all kinds of crazy stories.”
“Like what?” I couldn’t help thinking about the scar running across her skull . . . that must’ve been one hell of a fall.
“It doesn’t matter.” His jaw tensed. “She’s better now. She lost a little bit up here, but she always had more brains than everyone else to begin with, so I guess it evened out.”
A long silence stretched out between us.
“Strange how I found your ribbon in my pocket,” Dane said wryly.
I raised an eyebrow. “Well, I didn’t put it there.”
He looked at me skeptically, then readjusted one of the logs. The light caressed his arm, showing off the long muscles beneath the scar on his inner wrist. That inexplicable urge to touch him came over me again.
I wanted to play it closer to the vest, but I couldn’t help myself. “It’s kind of hard to imagine you with a girl like Lauren.”
“You can’t choose your family.”
“I guess that’s one way to put it,” I said under my breath.
He gave me a puzzled look.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” I looked out over the lake. “It’s just, incest is frowned upon where I come from.”
“Wait, you think—no.” He laughed. “Lauren’s my half sister. We share a father. That’s it. We’re not together.”
“Oh! I mean, oh?”
“So, you’ve been imagining me,” he said with a smile.
I wanted to ask him why he was suddenly being so nice to me. Why now, after he’d acted like such a jerk? But I didn’t want to ruin it.
His gaze lingered. “Do you have someone waiting for you back home?”
“What, like a boyfriend? No,” I answered, trying to kill the blush threatening to take over my cheeks.
“Well, you’re not entirely without attachments, Ashlyn.” The way he said my name was so odd, so formal. “Do you know what the apple blossom flower symbolizes?”