Free Thirty Nights with a Dirty Boy: Part 3: A Heroes and Heartbreakers Serial by Shiloh Walker Page B

everywhere.” I grinned and impulsively hugged him.
    He hugged me back, and I sighed at how easy it was to stand there and let him do it.
    I felt free.
    If it wasn’t for that dull, lingering ache …
    Sean.
    Easing back, I pasted a smile on my face. “Let’s get this stupid realtor thing done with. I really, really want to go shopping … really shopping. And I still have to buy my plane ticket, and now I’ll have to unpack and start all over again.”
    *   *   *
    I stared up at the brownstone.
    The For Sale sign in front of it flooded me with trepidation.
    The certainty I’d felt had faded, and now I wanted to turn and run. The B&B where Sean was now employed wasn’t far. I could run there. Find him. Demand that he …
    “That he what?” I whispered to myself.
    That he love me back?
    That he trust me?
    That he see the same things in me that I saw in him?
    I couldn’t do that.
    Woodenly, I took one step toward the house. Paul came along at my back. He’d already told me he’d be coming inside, and I hadn’t seen the point in arguing. There wasn’t one.
    As we walked, I hitched my purse up over my shoulder. Nervous for some reason, I started to babble. “I should have bought a different purse. This one looks silly with blue jeans and a T-shirt.” I looked down at the bright blue shirt, emblazoned with a giant A, circled. It hit me then what the A was for. Avengers. With a weak laugh, I said, “I grabbed an Avengers T-shirt.”
    “You do enjoy the movie.”
    “I enjoy Tom Hiddleston.”
    Paul chuckled. “Well, he is part of the movie.”
    He patted my shoulder as we neared the steps. I reached the door first and looked back at him as I opened it. “I used to think about moving here, you know. Leaving Nora’s house. It’s so big and…”
    Music drifted to my ears.
    Something haunting and beautiful, achingly so. It was enough to bring a knot to my throat, just in those few seconds I paused here, listening. Confused.
    Peering into the house, I blinked, not quite certain what I was looking at.
    The lights were dim.
    Paul went to tug me back. “Miss Ella…”
    I shook my head, trying to push inside.
    He was persistent, though, and I ended up trailing in behind him.
    We both stopped in the middle of the floor.
    There was a bottle of champagne on the coffee table, and I stared at the realtors who were sitting on my couch, chatting as if they were at a cocktail party. They even had flutes of champagne in their hands.
    “What’s this?” I asked.
    Sheila gave me a slow smile. “Your appointment is waiting for you on the balcony.”
    She gestured, and I looked over, saw a ribbon of rose petals streaming up the stairs in a carpet of red.
    They weren’t like any roses I’d ever seen, though.
    The petals were lushly, deeply red—so dark a red, the edges of the petals were black. Their perfume hung in the air. Slowly, I walked over to the stairs and knelt down, touching one.
    “Ms. Heston, Ms. Franklin.” Sheila Heston and Amy Franklin, my realtor, both looked at Paul expectantly. He glanced over at me. I was aware of his look, yes, but I was still rubbing the velvety softness of the rose petal between my fingers. “Just what is going on?”
    “Paul.” Sheila rose from the couch. “Why don’t you and I go get a cup of coffee? I understand you had a long drive today.”
    “But—”
    “Paul. It’s all right.” Amy smiled at him. Her mother had worked with Nora for years before Amy had taken over the realtor business her mother had established. Still, when I finally tore my gaze away from the roses to look at him, I saw the frown on his face.
    “I’m fine, Paul.” Then I started up the stairs. I still held one rose petal in my hand. As I crushed others under my feet, their scent became stronger in the air.
    The music was louder up here. Louder, but not overpowering.
    At the top of the stairs, positioned precisely in the middle of the Queen Anne table there, sat a silver flute. It was full