Page 85 of Moonlit Temptation
He grunts a little, and I flash him a sly grin. I hold out my cup to him, wiggling it back and forth enough to hear the ice shake. “Want to try it?”
“Nah, I'm good with mine. That's all you.”
I tilt my head to the side and regard him. “You're too good to me. It's liable to give a girl ideas.”
He watches me intently, his gaze heavy as it drags over my features. “I want you to have ideas. Lots and lots of ideas about me.”
My cheeks flush, and I can't decide if it's my dirty mind that's going there or if he really meant it as an innuendo.
I clear my throat and reach for the scissors on the island.
“What's in the boxes?” he asks, brushing over the moment like it was never there.
“I'm not sure. I didn't order anything and I haven't even officially changed my address yet. It's probably something from my cousin.”
I cut through the tape on the sides of each box and set the scissors to the side. Bane moves around the island to stand next to me, his curiosity as bright as mine.
I flip open the lid, and my brows crash together. “What is all this?”
It's full of seemingly random items. Stuff you might find in a keepsake box or a time capsule. Concert ticket stubs, letters, blurry Polaroid photos, old postcards, one of those miniature stuffed animals with the beans inside, a neon pink kids watch.
My heart pounds in my chest, and my mind scrambles to make sense of it all.
“Is this yours?” he murmurs, reaching a hand in the box and moving some things around.
A pressed flower, a cheap silver locket, a seashell, one of those stamped pennies.
I shake my head, confusion seeping over me like ice water, stark and brisk. “No, it must belong to someone else. Maybe they dropped it off by mistake.”
I see him arch a brow out of the corner of my eye, but I can't peel my gaze from the contents of the box. There's something familiar about some of these things. Maybe it's familiar in the way of a shared childhood. I'm pretty sure I had one of those watches when I was younger.
“It's probably a coincidence, but let's look inside the other box. Maybe it'll tell us who it's for.” My reasoning sounds weak, even to my own ears. But I'm invested, if a little freaked out.
I flip open the lid on the other box, but this one isn't full. In fact, it only has one piece of paper inside.
A vintage-looking postcard of the Welcome to Rosewood sign. Before Nana Jo and the committee changed it and painted it fresh every summer.
I flip it over, expecting a creepy message on the back like I'm unknowingly in some horror movie. But it's blank.
I don't know if I should be relieved or worried.
I hold up the postcard to Bane. “It's blank. Maybe it's some weird prank? Like you know, send the new Rosewood resident a box of random stuff?”
His mouth flattens into a frown and he plucks it from my fingers. “If there was such a thing, I think I'd know about it.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “Of course. I forgot that the Reapers are in the know when it comes to this town.”
He grins, his eyes sparkling a little as they look at me from over the back of the postcard. “Now you're getting it.”
“Well, I guess I'll keep it for now, give whoever it was a chance to realize they dropped it off at the wrong house. If no one comes in a couple of days, I'll toss it.”
“Hm,” is all he says, focus still on the postcard.
“What are my chances of convincing you to help me do some more sorting?” I bat my eyelashes at him, holding in my smile.
It isn't until an hour later, when Bane is helping me sort through Grandpa's vinyl collection to make sure they all work that it comes to me.
Those boxes were never postmarked. Someone dropped them off at my door.
