Ghostly Seduction (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

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Ghostly Seduction (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 13

by Gwen Campbell


  Probably the same place as his wardrobe.

  “Yes. How did that woman ever cope when she was alive?”

  “She didn’t, obviously.” Raleigh smiled up at her then returned to his reading. “Ever since the office building she worked in in Detroit was torn down, she’s been hanging around here. She doesn’t pay attention to the rest of us. Just the living and you’re the only one who hears her.”

  “Good thing she’s not around often. She’s too high maintenance.”

  “Hmm. Interesting choice of words. Apt though.”

  With a nod, Shelby zipped up her jacket and went off in search of Charlie Underwood, Lee’s maintenance guy. Good thing he couldn’t hear Myrtle. She’d dump her stockpile of sixty-year-old neuroses on him.

  And speaking of Charlie…Shelby found him on the side lawn. He’d set up some workhorses and had laid a piece of plywood over them.

  “Hey, Shelby,” he called out and adjusted his cap. “Got those signs for me?”

  “Right here.” She handed him the hand-lettered, wooden plaques she and the Fab Four had made up earlier that week. Charlie started nailing them to stakes.

  “I figured we’d block out the vendor areas with spray paint,” he said as he worked. “These signs are a jim-dandy idea. The vendors will find their assigned spots easy.” He checked the master layout grid Lee had made with a large-format printer at work and started sorting the signs. “You got the good ones that sign maker was going to make for you?”

  “In my office. They look terrific.”

  “Figured they would.” Charlie slung his hammer into a loop in his tool belt with panache. “I’ll put them up the morning of…just in case we get some weather that night. Don’t want anything blown over. Or any ghosts playing mischief with them.” He laughed at his own joke. Like so many locals, Charlie had heard the stories about the Tanner place since childhood.

  “No worries there, Charlie. The ghosts around here are pretty benign. Some are a little neurotic, but then who isn’t?”

  He laughed even harder. “Beth Tanner used to joke around about them. Course, that was before she upped and left. Michelle though, she didn’t have time to talk much to the likes of me. Too busy gossiping on the phone with them society friends of hers.”

  “I guess not everybody’s cut out for rural life,” Shelby added diplomatically, then changed the subject. “Can I get you a coffee or some iced tea?”

  “The offer’s much appreciated, and I’ll take you up on it as soon as I get these vendor areas marked off.” With that, he whipped out his tape measure, a handful of fresh stakes, and started pacing off the lawn.

  * * * *

  October 13, 1985

  The house is absolutely mad with activity. Dear Nan and crew have taken on so much work themselves, I’ve been too embarrassed to suggest hiring an event organizer. So I’ve followed the women’s example and pulled on my work boots. Who knew lining up pony rides could be fun? Lee’s anxious to help out during the Thanksgiving Festival. He knows most of the local children. I think he misses them when we’re in the city.

  Note to self—check with pony-ride people if Lee’s old enough to help. He’s only ten but tall for his age.

  Note to self—buy Lee steel-toed boots. In case of ponies.

  Beth Tanner’s handwriting had a sharp slant to it, like her brain moved faster than her hand. Despite that, the script had a bold confidence Shelby suspected reflected the essence of the woman.

  I’m inspired to follow Nan’s example and do the work myself for our spring party in the city. Why should an event organizer get a slice of the donated money? I’m thinking this year the money should go to AIDS awareness. Rock Hudson has died…terrible. In New York, some parents are keeping their children out of school for fear of AIDS.

  My other choice would be cancer research. President Reagan’s cancer surgery was successful…something I’m sure couldn’t have happened a few years back. Such a wonderful year the man has had, too. A valuable life to have been saved. The only president since Nixon to serve two terms, and his success talking to Gorbachev in Geneva.

  That entry was on the last page. Shelby set the journal aside and picked up the next in the pile. She frowned. Either the books were out of order, or some were missing. The first entry was dated almost two years later.

  September 18, 1987

  He comes to me in the night. The dreams are so erotic, so powerful. At times, I swear I feel echoes of his touch when Ryan makes love to me. My husband thinks I’m becoming frigid because I pull away from the dichotomy.

  Some days I stand in the hallway, looking up at his painting. Sometimes, when I touch the brushstrokes that make up his moustache, I can swear he’s looking at me. It’s sick the way that painting turns me on, but I can’t stop.

  It is a dream, isn’t it?

  Last night, Ryan talked about having another child, again. Lee’s twelve, so I’m long past the excuse about having two small children in the house. But there’s a fifty-fifty chance it’ll be a girl. Devonna—dear sweet Devonna—tells me the Tanner curse is myth. When she holds my hand in the gardens, I dream about having a little girl of my own, one as precious as she is. I want to believe her. I try to believe her, but I know what happened to her, and how her nieces died at birth.

  Losing a child would kill me, like it killed Devonna’s mother and drove my great-mother-in-law mad.

  I’m not mad, am I?

  The phone rang, jarring Shelby halfway out of her chair. “Hello,” she said, fumbling with the receiver as she bent over to retrieve the journal she’d dropped on the floor.

  There was a pause. “Hello.” The caller was a woman, with a lovely deep voice. There was another pause. “Is this the Tanner residence?”

  “Yes. Shelby Prentice speaking. Can I help you?”

  “We haven’t met, but I’m Beth Tanner. Lee’s mother.”

  Shelby stared at the journal in her hand as she straightened out from beneath her desk. She blinked. “Beth Tanner,” she repeated slowly, prudently holding her tongue about having the woman’s private journal in her hand. “Hello. I’m sorry, but Lee’s not here. He’s in Veracruz.”

  “Oh. That would explain why I couldn’t get hold of him.” Beth Tanner laughed softly. It was a beautiful sound and made Shelby smile. “I read in the online Detroit papers he’s hosting a Thanksgiving Festival out there. I wanted to wish him luck and congratulate him on reviving the tradition.”

  “I’m sure he’ll like hearing that. He’ll be back in the city tomorrow.”

  “Lee’s told me about you. Are you all right out there by yourself? I mean he told me you run your own business, and he told me about the big guard dog you have, but…” Her voice trailed off.

  “I’m fine, Mrs. Tanner. It’s a beautiful location. And the landlord’s a sweetheart.”

  “Beth, please.” She laughed again, and Shelby liked the sound just as much as the first time. “I’m glad we agree on Lee being a sweetheart.”

  “Perhaps if you’re free, you can come up for Thanksgiving? I’m sure Lee would be thrilled to have you, and I’d love an opportunity to meet you in person.” Shelby bit her lip and waited. Her anticipation faded as the seconds without a response dragged out.

  “I can’t. I’m so sorry, but I just can’t.”

  Was that fear Shelby heard in Beth’s voice? It was more than hesitation, but Shelby didn’t know the woman and couldn’t judge beyond that.

  “Some other time perhaps,” Shelby said, giving her an out without requiring an explanation.

  Beth Tanner said good-bye soon after, and Shelby forced herself to get back to work.

  * * * *

  Tilting her head, Shelby found an even more comfortable spot on Lee’s shoulder. Her hand on his bare chest moved languidly. She didn’t want to wake him. He’d worked like a dog today, helping Charlie rope off a huge chunk of back lawn for a parking lot, putting up an oversized arch to mark the entrance to the festival grounds, helping to set up the conc
ession booths. By the time they’d gone to bed, his cheeks were wind burned and he’d been excited like a kid.

  Shelby shifted again, just a little, and liked the feel of her still swollen breast pressing into his body while he snored quietly.

  There’d been nothing kidlike about the way he’d made love to her. Hands, mouth, and cock had pleasured her through several orgasms. Now, sated and a little sweaty, she smiled lazily, kissed the rise of his chest, and started to close her eyes.

  A shadow of movement made them open immediately.

  “Raleigh,” she mouthed vehemently and waved him off when he started to crawl into bed behind her. She tiptoed into the bathroom, and he followed.

  Shelby shut the door behind them and turned on a faucet.

  “I’ve seen the Fab Four around quite a lot the past few days.” Raleigh touched her shoulder then, looking chagrined, backed away when she grabbed her silk dressing gown off a hook and yanked it on. He sighed and tutted with obvious displeasure when her breasts disappeared from his view. “Tremendously exciting women. I remember the Festival I rogered them all in one night.”

  “Eww. TMI,” she grouched quietly.

  “Pardon?”

  “Too much information. Look, you know the new rules. No more touching Shelby. No more crawling into bed with Shelby.” She pushed his hand away when he reached for the robe’s knotted belt. “Lee and I have something good together. You had your shot at love when you were alive. Don’t deny us ours.”

  “What denying?” he drawled in his most seductive tone. “It’s just some harmless playing around on the side.”

  Up to that point, Shelby had been worried about the ghost. Worried about leaving him alone and unloved. Her worries were morphing into annoyance. Anybody who could be that callous and selfish was more than just a product of their times. Raleigh, it turned out, was a bit of an ass. He was just good at hiding it when he thought he’d be getting some.

  “Harmless? Beth Tanner thought she was going insane.”

  “She did?”

  Strangely, Shelby didn’t think the ghost was lying. His appearances were sporadic, which meant a lot went on under his radar. And that radar was tuned to one frequency only…Raleigh getting what Raleigh wanted. “I imagine an afterlife floating around here can get pretty boring, but that’s no excuse for worming your way into women’s subconscious and their beds just because they’re handy.”

  “Worming. Hmmph.”

  “I’m right, and you know it.” Deliberately, she ramped back her anger. Raleigh was a product of his era—of his wealth, status, and untouchability. He couldn’t and wouldn’t be changed. “You and I playing around? That’s finished. I’ll still be here to talk to you. It’ll have to do.”

  His mouth snapped down into an unhappy, downward curve. All pretence of seduction gone, he watched her turn off the water and grumbled to himself as he followed her into the bedroom. After Shelby tucked herself back into Lee’s side, she felt the edge of the mattress dip. Raleigh sat there, arms across his chest, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

  “Talk, hmm? I’ll start then.” He shifted a little, obviously making himself comfortable.

  Shelby sighed and rolled her eyes.

  “Do you know what a daisy chain is, my dear? Last Festival, the ladies sent their husbands home—using the pretext of staying behind to clean up—and the five of us spent all night in the main parlor.” He chuckled lasciviously. “Far more stamina in the afterlife than when I was alive. Helen has the most marvelous breasts so I…”

  Sighing again, Shelby tried to tune him out. Then, against all reason and probably because she was tired, she chuckled. She was snuggled in bed with her lover, with his dead great-great-grandfather spinning erotic stories as a way of paying her back for rejecting his advances.

  Life at the Tanner place was never dull.

  “You okay, Shelby?” Lee mumbled. In the moonlight, she saw his eyes flutter open. He rubbed them, yawned, then drew her into his arms. “Go back to sleep, baby. Big day tomorrow.” He touched her hair, the curve of her breast. “It’s too bad we have to get up early. I wish we could make love again.” He brushed his mouth against hers, then grinned against her lips. “Sleep’s overrated,” he murmured, flashed her a naughty look, then, easing her robe open, kissed a path down to her breast. She gasped and held his head when he took her nipple into his mouth and suckled gently.

  “…Lucy has a thing for feet, so I was terribly happy to oblige.” Raleigh droned on, bragging about the ecstasy the Fab Four experienced and his no-doubt-exaggerated exploits. Even for a ghost, what he was describing required way too much flexibility.

  Chuckling again, Shelby ran her fingernails over Lee’s ass when he rubbed his growing erection against her.

  * * * *

  “If that’s too heavy you let me know, Shelby.”

  “Dad.” Lee had sounded impatient the first two times he’d admonished his father. Now he sounded curt. “She’s probably in better shape than you and I put together.” He watched with open approval as Shelby positioned a propane tank inside one of the outdoor heaters they’d set up near the seating areas.

  They’d caught a break with the weather. The sky was clear, and no rain was in the forecast. It was cool though, with an expected high of only ten or so degrees above freezing. The best part was it hadn’t snowed yet.

  Next year, if there was a next year, they’d hold this thing in October.

  Shelby snapped the base of the heater shut. “Leave him alone, Lee,” she chided easily. “A woman likes to be fussed over now and then.” When she stood beside Lee’s father, Ryan gave her a quick one-armed hug.

  “Told you you could learn a thing or two about being attentive to the ladies from your old man, didn’t I?”

  “Oh yeah,” Lee deadpanned as he lowered a painted panel for the ring-toss booth into place. “It’s a wonder anybody can get near you, what with the crowds of women flocking after you.” With an expansive wave of his arm, Lee pointed out the only other people around—two electricians hooking up the overhead lights, Charlie powering up the kids’ inflatable bouncy castle, and the Fab Four huddling over a case of playing cards, engrossed in separating out the face ones for the euchre tent.

  Except for the gray hair, perma-tan skin, and creases around his eyes, Ryan Tanner looked a lot like his son. Maybe an inch shorter, he exuded the same calm confidence, and he had that engineer’s avid curiosity about everything. If something was broken or needed tending, Ryan was in the middle of it.

  When he’d arrived early that morning, Shelby had immediately been smitten by his energy and humor.

  “Change of topic,” Shelby said, deliberately pulling their attention back to her. “I’m going to whip up some lunch for everybody so we can eat and get cleaned up by noon.”

  Lee and his father got along well enough, but they were both strong willed and determined planners. More than one big alpha dog in the house made the conversations a little too intense for her, so she was glad for an excuse to get away from them for a few minutes. She figured she’d get used to their dynamic in time. After all, they didn’t actually argue. They were just…vehement.

  Tazer followed her inside, cocked his head, and immediately trotted into the kitchen. The wonderful smells drew her, too. Racks of potatoes were baking in the ovens, oversized pans of green bean casserole were stacked on the counter, waiting to be popped into the outdoor ovens closer to supper time, and huge chunks of beef were marinating in sinfully aromatic stock. Yesterday, the bakery in town had dropped off bags of rolls, slabs of cake, and pies. It took an act of will, but Shelby walked past the pies without helping herself to one.

  She had to push a massive bowl of salad aside to make room on the island.

  “Lay out your bread in even rows.”

  She started when the snooty chef materialized beside her.

  “No, no. Use a big icing paddle to butter them, not that fiddly little knife. Maximum efficiency, minimum effort. And don’t forget to
wash your hands.”

  She was about to tell him where he could put his hand washing when she realized he was right. Swallowing her retort, Shelby got down to the serious business of putting together a dozen ham and cheese and another dozen tuna sandwiches.

  “Need help carrying anything into the dining room?” Ryan Tanner stepped up to the sink to wash his hands.

  The chef nodded his approval, then told Shelby to garnish the platter with sliced carrots and pickles.

  “I forgot how huge this kitchen is,” Ryan said, looking around. “Even full up with all this food. Beth used to pull these events off all the time. Never could figure out how she managed it.”

  If she hadn’t been looking right at him, Shelby would have missed the way Ryan’s eyes dimmed.

  “When were you here last?” she asked and pulled out pitchers of lemonade and iced tea.

  Ryan opened a cupboard and hunted around until he found the coffee. “Four years.” He shrugged. “I loved it here as a kid, but after Beth left me, it started to lose its appeal.” After he switched on the coffeemaker, he paused. “Lee told me you invited her. Thank you. Though I’m not surprised she said no. This place…” Ryan looked around at the high cupboards and the shiny appliances. “She couldn’t take being here after awhile.” Turning, his focused gaze held Shelby’s. “Don’t let this place get to you. I haven’t seen Lee this happy in a long time. I’ve never said this to anyone, but his first wife? She was never right for him. I think you are.”

  Shelby was too shocked by his declaration to respond.

  Ryan exhaled, and it sounded deliberate. “Now, let me carry these things to the dining room and call out lunch is ready.” He smiled and it lit up his dark eyes. “I’m really looking forward to today. A bunch of fellas I knew growing up are coming. It’s going to be a good time.”

 

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