Aurora’s glare darkened into a scowl that would send a lesser man running in the opposite direction. “Not in a million years,” she seethed. Then she spun around and stormed out. Unfortunately, I was too distracted by her spectacular ass to keep her from leaving.
As tempted as I was to go after her, I had clients waiting, but at least I knew where to find her. When I faced the couple, I clocked the “groom’s” gaze glued to Aurora’s ass as she passed by the glass front of my office and disappeared around the corner.
My hands clenched into fists, and a growl escaped my lips. The fucker’s eyes swung back to me and widened in fear when he saw my expression. I wanted to put him in the ground, but years of martial arts training had given me the ability to control myself. I inhaled deeply, and on my exhale, I relaxed my hands and plastered a fake smile on my face.
“Please fill out those forms, then Chad will bring you back and we can get the paperwork signed and witnessed. Then we’ll file them with the courts, and you’ll receive a copy of the final decree in the mail.”
The couple nodded and bent their heads over their clipboards. I stalked back to my office and dropped heavily into my chair. Wiggling my mouse, I woke up my computer and found my way to the website for The Chapel of Dreams. Aurora managed the chapel and coordinated weddings. There was a photo of her and two other women listed as her sisters. I recognized one of them as the wife of rock god, Griffith Thorne, and the other was married to Maddox Holt, who owned a famous local tattoo parlor.
Staring at Aurora’s gorgeous face, I relived our moments together and got hard all over again. I promised myself that the first chance I got, I was going to track her sweet ass down and make her listen. I had reasons for doing what I did. I wasn’t in the business of ripping dreams apart; it was more like disaster prevention.
Just then, Chad escorted the couple from the front into my office. I was forced to focus on my job for the next few hours since I had back-to-back appointments. By the time my last client left, it was after five. I wondered if Aurora had a wedding that night. I was determined to track her down, and while my first instinct was to simply throw her over my shoulder and take her home, I didn’t think she would be okay with that. At least, she wouldn’t allow herself to be. I could tell she wanted to be swept off her feet, though, and let someone else be in control for a change. I was willing to bet that romancing her would be more effective than caveman tactics—outside the bedroom anyway—and I had no problem going down that route to a certain point. If Aurora was too stubborn to open her eyes to our future, I wouldn’t hesitate to give in to the Neanderthal and drag her back to my cave.
I needed to find some leverage, and to get that, I needed to know more about her. I was pretty sure I knew the right source for that. I picked up the phone on my desk and dialed a familiar number.
“Lennox,” the man on the other end answered.
“It’s Will,” I informed Drew Lennox, the owner of the hotel that leased out my office space and housed The Chapel of Dreams. We’d known each other from college and had stayed in touch. He’d been there for me at a dark time in my life. Then, one day, he offered me the chance to start over.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Aurora Dawson. What do you know about her?” With the exception of pulling her background, Drew was most likely my best bet for finding out more about my woman. Well, it was his wife who had the information, but I had to go through Drew to get to Autumn.
To my surprise, he burst out laughing. I sighed and waited for him to calm down. Eventually, he caught his breath and replied, “She was in your office for all of what? Ten minutes?” A female voice said something muffled in the background, and Drew chuckled again. “And yelling at you the entire time?”
“How do you know that?” I sputtered.
“A little birdie told me.”
I shook my head even though he couldn’t see it. “I don’t remember you being such a gossip in college.”
“I didn’t have a wife who tells me everything in college,” he said dryly.
“Touché,” I conceded. “But how did Autumn know?”
He sighed. “From what I’ve been told—I can’t believe I’m actually going to explain this like a fucking high school girl—Aurora went to her sister’s bakery to fume over your meeting. Ariel mentioned it to Becket’s wife Lia when they met for lunch. Then Lia bumped into Belle, Aurora and Ariel’s other sister, at the gym. Then Belle called Autumn to get the scoop on you. And of course, my wife told me.” Drew’s tone had been deadpan as he explained, and I could practically see him checking off each thing on his fingers.