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life.
    More importantly, though, did I care?
    Nope.
    I didn’t care how he got here—or if he even was Crew. All I cared about was that he was real flesh and blood. His roughened hand clasped mine. Desire sparked between us, with the simplest glance past his shoulder and back to me.
He led.
I followed.
To where, I didn’t know.
     
     
    ~~~
     
     
    Chapter Five
     
     
    We wove down a quiet street, slipping through a narrow passageway, my hand in his all the while. He held my hand loosely but firmly. His fingers were as warm as the balmy evening air. I smelled something in the breeze. Little white flowers I suspected were Jasmine of some sort, as we walked down a lamplit street.
    No cars passed. No pedestrians. Just him, me, and this exquisite silence.
    “Where are we going?” I asked Crew. I couldn’t help thinking of him as Crew, despite a rational part of me that refused to accept the idea as remotely possible.
    He shot me a mischievous grin. “You’ll see.”
    He led me past the squares, and to the gate of a cemetery that sat smack in the middle of town. Weird, but cool. “Uh ... what’s this?”
    Quirking a daring eyebrow my way, Crew opened the gate. But he didn’t answer. He only tugged my hand a little. I looked at the darkening sky, at the headstones, at him. Showing up here stacked evidence in favor of this being my real Crew. This was right up there in something only Crew would do. Take me to a graveyard for romance.
    Logically? Still impossible. Emotionally, though, I was getting sucked under.
    A thousand little hopes flurried in my heart. I cleared my throat. “So, you come here often?”
    A broad smile broke across his face as he laughed. The deep sound made me chuckle, too, and the air changed. The ache in me, the weight I’d carried so long I’d forgotten it existed, lapsed. Whoever he was, my Crew or mere possibility, I was following.
    He waited for my answer, or maybe for some sign that where he’d go, I would follow. My free hand went to the locket. Maybe holding it would prove something. I suspected that if it was Crew, he couldn’t stay here forever. “You know, I made a wish the other night.”
    He glanced around us, leisurely, his gaze going to our clasped hands, to the moon in the sky, and back to me. “I like wishes.”
    Words like magic and wish and love spread tiny wings inside me. If he was Crew, I’d stumbled onto magic that couldn’t possibly last forever. I pushed his hand in mine to tell him, go. I’m in.
    That crooked, boyish grin of his just about tickled my toes. He set off and led me through a myriad of graves flanked by tall trees and concrete blocks. I should have shivered despite the warmth of the night. I always had before. That summer night of our third week together, we’d trekked up to peer over the cliff at midnight. My belly hadn’t quieted ’til morning light. How were rows upon rows of the dead any less scary?
    I didn’t have time to analyze the thought. Crew stopped near another gate. His gaze held mine. A part of me wanted him to admit who he was, but I feared breaking this spell between us. “You okay?” he asked.
    I nodded. Still, he hesitated in opening the gate. I stepped forward and wound my arms around his neck. I pressed my lips to his. I’d wanted this for so long, and for so many years. When his mouth parted for mine, I leaned my hips to his. Memories flooded in. Familiarity wrapped around me. I knew these lips. I knew this hand in mine. I knew the curve of the jaw my other hand cupped.
    “Sara,” he murmured against my lips. I savored the sound of my name on his lips. Branches creaked around us as twilight fell. He eased away from me. “I want to show you something. Okay?”
    I nodded.
    The gate’s whine made me realize just how quiet the night had become. Again, I followed him through. The gate clanged shut. His hand let go of mine. Fireflies blinked in the tree, above the patch of grass. Two large urns overflowing with yellow daisies