9. Ecco

9

ECCO

M y pulse pounds in my ears as I slump against the wall of the dressing room, desire thrumming through my veins.

Holy hell.

I can still feel the heat of Graeme's gaze licking over my skin like a physical caress. The way those icy blue eyes raked over my body... Gods. I've never seen him look at me like that before.

Like he wanted to devour me whole.

For one heart-stopping moment, I saw my own hunger reflected back at me. That same deep, desperate yearning. It turned my legs to jelly.

What if I had given in to my instincts? Crooked my finger, beckoned him closer... Pulled that hulking, granite body down onto the dressing room bench and finally discovered if the old myths about gargoyles are true?

I imagine the rasp of his stony flesh against my most delicate places. Those powerful hands, gripping my thighs, pinning me to the wall as he?—

"Ugh," I groan, thumping my head back against the door.

This is exactly how I always get myself in trouble. Chasing the wrong men, the ones destined to obliterate my stupid heart.

It's not like I even like Graeme, I remind myself sternly. He's a grumpy, boring slab of rock, gorgeous or not. Just because my body reacts to him like a lit match to dry kindling doesn't mean I should do anything about it.

With a resolute nod, I stand and get dressed, steadfastly ignoring the persistent throb between my thighs.

By the time I emerge from the dressing room, a bright smile is firmly in place, my steps light and breezy as if I don't have a care in the world. Graeme falls into step beside me, his face as impassive and unreadable as ever.

If he notices anything amiss, he doesn't show it. There's no indication that he's replaying that charged moment over and over in his head like I am. That he can still sense the sizzle of awareness singeing the air between us.

We don't speak of it. As if we have some silent, mutual agreement to pretend it never happened.

But it hangs there, weighty and stifling. It dances along my skin, hums in my veins, steals the breath from my lungs until it's all I can do just to breathe in a normal rhythm in his presence.

"Ecco! Over here!" Mariah's voice cuts through the tension, a welcome lifeline I cling to with giddy relief.

She's waving at me from across the shop, cheeks flushed with excitement as she beckons me closer. "I had the best idea for the flower girl accessories!"

It helps, losing myself in the whirlwind of Mariah's wedding plans. In bouquets and centerpieces. Miles of lace and rivers of organza. I nod along to color schemes and finalized appetizer options, oohing and aahing at pictures of enchanted ice sculptures and champagne fountains.

But even so, I'm constantly aware of Graeme's presence.

It doesn't help that he's never more than a few feet away. Watching. Guarding. Tempting . It's maddening, how much I want him. Infuriating that I can't seem to turn it off no matter how hard I try.

I'm practically vibrating with relief by the time we finally leave the dress shop, desperate to put some distance between us before I do something crazy.

Like shove him into the nearest dark alleyway and climb him like a tree, audience be damned.

Deep breaths, Ecco .

I inhale slowly through my nose as we step out into the bright sunshine, hoping the warm summer air will clear my head. I can do this. I can keep it together.

Graeme is just some guy.

A guy I'm insanely attracted to, sure. A guy I'm pretty sure could rock my entire world with a single touch. But still, at the end of the day… just a guy.

I'm not going to let some dreamy guy throw me off my game. Not this time.

I'm past all that.

Mariah and I stroll arm-in-arm down the charming cobblestone streets, watching how the town square bustles with activity. I've always loved how the town really comes alive in the summer weather.

Mariah nudges me, her voice low and conspiratorial. "So, spill. How's the dating scene in the human lands these days? Any juicy prospects on the horizon now that you're a star?"

I sigh, feeling a familiar pang of loneliness.

"Honestly? It's been pretty bleak. Between recording sessions and album promo..." I trail off, shrugging. "Let's just say my dry spell has reached desert proportions, if you catch my drift."

Mariah's eyebrows shoot up. "Really? That's so unlike you, Ec. You're usually the queen of the casual fling."

I nod ruefully, my gaze distant. It's true—I've never been one to shy away from a good time.

That's never been my problem; it's more that I don't know how to pick which ones to keep around. I've dated a lot of duds, gotten my heart broken again and again while searching for that soul-deep connection I know is out there waiting for me.

But lately, it's like the universe is conspiring to keep me solidly single.

"You know what weddings are perfect for?" Mariah says, a glint in her eye. "No-strings-attached hookups. And trust me, there will be no shortage of eligible bachelors at this shindig."

She starts ticking off names on her fingers. "Let's see… there's Thorak's best man, Finnian. Although come to think of it, he's been weirdly cagey about his love life lately. But ooh, I could intro you to some of the brewery guys! Ecco, you'd eat them alive."

"Shh!" I hiss, my cheeks heating. I dart a glance over my shoulder to make sure Graeme is out of earshot. "Keep your voice down, Mar!"

Mariah follows my gaze, her smile turning positively wicked. "Oh, right. It'll be tricky to ditch tall, dark and grumpy long enough for you to get your freak on. Unless..." Her grin widens almost cartoonishly. "Maybe Mr. Stoic could be the one doing the freaking."

I smack her on the arm, my face burning. "Mariah!"

"What?" She holds up her hands in mock innocence. "Like you haven't noticed he's hotter than a forest fire. I bet he'd be super intense in the sack. All that brooding energy, channeled into much more… productive outlets."

Oh, I've noticed all right.

The dressing room incident, for one—my mind throws me right back into that moment, the electric clench low in my belly as his molten gaze raked over me, the way every nerve ending seemed to buzz to life under his heated stare.

Yep, I've thought about it.

About ripping away all that strict self-control and finding the passion I know must be lurking underneath.

About how easy it would be to goad him just a little too far, to push him past the breaking point until he?—

"Earth to Ecco." Mariah waves a hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my lust-fueled daze. "You still with me, babe?"

I shake my head to clear it, forcing a laugh that sounds fake even to my own ears.

"Sorry, got distracted by a, um… shiny thing. You were saying?"

Mariah watches me shrewdly for a beat before leaning in close.

"I was saying that hooking up with Graeme would be pretty damn convenient, considering he's basically your sexy shadow these days."

She studies my expression and giggles before continuing.

"Just think—any time you're feeling frisky, all you'd have to do is pretend you heard a spooky noise and bam!" She claps her hands together, making me jump. "Insta-booty call. No muss, no fuss."

Despite myself, an unbidden snort of laughter escapes me.

I mean, she's not wrong. Having my own personal love guardian at my beck and call does have a certain appeal. Could she be right?

Could we have something casual, without it getting complicated?

I shake my head again, harder this time.

No. Bad Ecco . Graeme is off-limits.

Besides, he's made it abundantly clear that he wants nothing to do with me beyond his job description.

"Everything okay up there?" His low, gravelly rumble makes me start.

I paste on my most innocent smile as I turn to face him. "Peachy keen, jelly bean! Mariah and I are just admiring the, uh… architecture."

He lifts one skeptical brow, those luminous eyes boring into me like he can read every filthy thought scrawled across my brain. I flush hot all over, certain that any second now I'm going to spontaneously combust.

But Graeme just grunts, giving a curt nod before returning to his usual gargoyle-y brooding.

Crisis averted, I allow myself a tiny sigh of relief. That was close. Too close. I need to get a handle on these runaway fantasies before I do something truly crazy.

I loop my arm back through Mariah's, dragging her onward with renewed purpose.

"C'mon," I say. "If we hurry, we can hit up the Hungry Minotaur bakery before they run out of pumpkin muffins. I'm thinking a little sugar therapy is exactly what the doctor ordered..."

We're still giggling about pumpkin muffins and… other delectable treats as we round the corner of the square, headed toward the bakery. But my laughter dies in my throat as I nearly collide with a tall, willowy figure draped head to toe in flowing turquoise silk.

I skid to an abrupt halt, my heart doing a sick little lurch as I take in the familiar cut of her cheekbones, the luminous violet of her eyes.

Eyes that match my own, down to the last glimmering facet.

"Mom?" I croak, shock and dread turning my voice gruff. "What are you doing here?"

My mom, Deandra, has a tiny place in Elderberry Falls, but she barely ever stays there. She only came back for the occasional short visit after she walked out on Dad and me. And it's not like we're close—I've barely heard from her for the past few years, maybe a handful of texts, a card on my birthday if I'm lucky.

Yet here she is, smiling at me with a flash of blindingly white teeth, her arms already opening to gather me into an embrace that reeks of patchouli and self-satisfaction.

"Why, I'm here for Mariah's wedding, my love." Deandra's voice drips with cloying sweetness, belying the calculation in her eyes. "I wouldn't miss my daughter's best friend's big day for the world!"

What the actual fuck is my estranged mother talking about?!