The Last Piece of His Heart (Lost Boys 3)

“What?” Holden screeched. “Where are you going? It’s early.”

“Where do you think he’s going?” Miller coughed into his fist, “Pussywhipped.”

Holden snickered.

“I think I hear Evelyn Gonzalez calling, Stratton,” I said, putting on my jacket. “She has some hair gel options for your next video.”

Miller laid his middle finger to his cheek. “Look into my eye…”

We exchanged grins and I strode out, Holden

calling after me.

“Have fun! Use protection! And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Actually, that doesn’t leave much. Don’t do anything illegal! Nope, that doesn’t work either…”

I chuckled and shook my head, and then the sound of the ocean washed him out as I walked to Shiloh.

I arrived a little after six. Bibi was on her way out the front door with another elderly lady. She hugged me and smacked a kiss on my cheek.

“Ronan Wentz, this is Esther Morris. She’s taking me to visit a friend down the street. Shiloh’s in the back, working. Lasagna’s in the oven, still baking. I’ll be back in twenty minutes, so don’t you bother with it.”

“Sure thing.”

She smiled. “So happy to have you, sweet boy.”

I jammed my hands in my pockets. “Thanks.”

Esther gave me and my tattoos a quick once-over, then guided Bibi out the front door.

I found Shiloh in the shed, sitting at her table. The night was warm; she wore a sundress in deep blue. A lantern hung above her in the twilight, making her skin glow. Her expression was tight with concentration.

Fuck, she was too beautiful. Too much for a poor bastard like me. And yet when she felt me watching her, she lifted her head and her face lit up, became more beautiful.

Then she caught herself and turned her tone casual. “Hey, you.”

I joined her in the shed, sitting on the other side of her. I watched as she pressed a plate of silver about the size of a playing card onto a small anvil that was attached to the table with a bench pin. The silver plate was etched with a rose design, and Shiloh was using a jeweler’s saw—its blade as thin as string—to cut it out.

“I feel you watching me,” she said with a faint smile, not looking up as she sawed and turned the plate, the blade following the lines of the rose exactly.

“Fucking amazing.”

Her deep brown eyes flickered up to me, then back to her work. “Don’t say things like that. I’ll mess up.”

But she didn’t. The last piece was cut away and she was left with a silver rose as large as the palm of her hand.

“You’re just going to watch?” she asked as she picked up her hand torch and soldered on a tiny loop of silver to the back.

“For now.”

Shiloh’s lips parted in a little gasp. “Damn, Ronan…”

My blood heated and I waited, my hands itching to touch her. To strip her naked in the twilight and spread her over the table. No, not a goddamn table. Or her car. Or the Shack. In the last month, we’d never fucked in a bed. Never been fully naked. I couldn’t take her to my place and Shiloh hadn’t offered hers. Our way of trying to slow things down.

Stupid.

I was all in. And if I thought about it, I’d gone all in for this girl the first damn minute I laid eyes on her.

“Nearly done.” She took up a string of smoky quartz beads and held the rose against them. “The backing needs to cool before I can string it, but not bad, eh? I kind of like how it turned out.”