by Amy Boyles
I nodded. “Right. So that the entire cycle—one where you were enslaved to us—could start again.”
TWENTY-THREE
“Are you? Are you going to take me in?”
As much as I loved watching the living squirm, in my opinion the dead had already suffered enough. If they were still hanging around postmortem, then their suffering was excruciating. Lucky had paid his dues. It wasn’t in me to make his existence worse than it already was.
“No, Lucky, I’m not going to take you in.”
He opened his arms for a hug. I flared my palm, flashing him the stop gesture. “Don’t hug me.”
He backed off but smiled like a dope. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You’re still here. You haven’t crossed over.”
He ran his thumb down the pads of his fingers on the same hand. “It’s only a matter of time. Only a matter of time before Lucky finally goes to heaven!”
“We’ll see about that,” I murmured.
Lucky had caused a lot of problems in death. There were no guarantees he was going to the good place. He might be going to the bad one.
“What’s that you said?” His eyes glittered with interest.
I shook my head. “Never mind. Listen, we need to figure out a plan for tomorrow. I’ll need you close by. I’m going to steal a prescription from someone’s house to prove they have evidence, but if Susan won’t confront Homer, it’ll be up to you.”
“You can count on me, Blissful.”
“Great. That’s what I was hoping for. Now get out of here. I need to rest up for the big day.”
But Lucky didn’t move. “I have a ghost gift to offer.”
My heart lurched. Ghost gifts were treasures that spirits could give to humans. They were limited, so someone like Lucky had to choose wisely when he gave one.
A smile coiled on his lips. “I knew that would catch your attention. Think about what you want.” Lucky threaded his fingers and cracked his knuckles. “Think about it, Blissful. Come up with something good. I’ll give you whatever you want. Or should I say, whatever I can.”
With that, Lucky snapped his fingers and disappeared. My head spun. A ghost gift. So far I’d been given two—my violet hair and the mark on my hand that was sort of like a Get Out of Jail card, except with spirits.
If I encountered a particularly evil ghost, all I had to do was flash my hand and supposedly the spirit would see me as a friend. Oh yeah, I’m sure we’d become best buds, go out for a few beers, play songs on the jukebox.
All right, so I was getting ahead of myself. But anyway, I had two ghost gifts and Lucky was offering me a third.
I had to come up with something good, something that would change my life. Or at least be fun and cool.
I settled on the couch to watch TV. I finally had the place to myself now that all the ghosts were gone.
I’d just picked a show that featured a man searching the Amazon for a mystical treasure when my phone buzzed.
“What now?”
I yanked it from my purse and glanced at the screen. It was Roan.
I’d left the inn with all my things there and I’d forgotten to tell him what had happened to me.
I was such a jerk.
“Hello?” I squeaked.
“You’re alive. I was worried.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. I got up early and went for a stroll.”
“How early?” Pots and pans clanged in the background.
“Three a.m. maybe.”
“Three a.m.! Are you crazy? Only ax murderers and psychos are out at that time of night.”
“And me,” I pointed out.
He chuckled. “And you.” He exhaled. It sounded like a sigh, like a what-am-I-going-to-do-with-this-woman sound.
“Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was out early and then just came back to my house. I can’t sleep at the inn.”
“Hmm. Why not?”
Because the thought of your hot athletic body only a few feet away is enough to keep me up for a millennia.
I wonder what would’ve happened if I said it. But I kept my trap shut. “I don’t know. I just can’t.”
“That’s okay; I can’t sleep when you’re under my roof, either.”
My heart leaped from my chest and plopped on the ground. It stopped beating. The entire world stopped. Had he said what I thought he had?
“What did you say?”
“I said”—he shifted the phone so I could hear him clear as glass—“that I can’t sleep when you’re under the roof. You do something to me, Blissful. You make it impossible to concentrate on other things. It’s all I can do not to nibble on your ear when we’re talking.”
“Stop. Right. Now.” What was he doing to me? If this conversation continued in this vein, I’d be over at the inn within seconds, my clothes shed as soon as I stepped past the door. I didn’t need the complication of Roan Storm in my life.
No, ma’am, I did not. What I needed was a hot bath, a good book and temporary blindness so I wouldn’t be tempted to find Roan and strip his clothes off piece by piece.
“You need your things,” Roan said.
“No, I can wait for them.”
Like for eternity. It would be fine.
“Want to have dinner?”
“Yes.”
Wait. What was I saying? He just told me he wanted to nibble my ear. What he didn’t know was that I was a sucker for a good ear nibbling.
“Great. I’ll pick you up at six.”
I found myself mumbling that I would see him then and hanging up. What had happened to me? I needed to focus on being ready for the morning.
I sank onto the couch. It would be fine. I’d have dinner with Roan, get a good night’s sleep and be perky as all get-out by the time I had to break into an old man’s house and steal his blood thinner.
I could do this. No problem.
The doorbell rang at exactly six. Of course I happened to be standing right beside it. I’d been watching the street like a stalker, waiting for Roan to pull up.
I opened the door. There he stood, a surprised look in his eyes because I’d no doubt scared him with the way I yanked on the door half a second after he rang the bell.
A smile cracked his face. “You look beautiful. I brought your things.”
He held them in his hand, but all I could think about was ear nibbling. His lips moved. Roan said something, but all I heard was, “Ear nibbling.”
My ears burned. My face crimsoned. My heart pounded. Roan was looking at me questioningly. He’d asked me something that I hadn’t heard.
It didn’t matter. Language with words wasn’t what I wanted right now. What I wanted used no words.
Roan stared at me as if waiting for an answer. My mouth dropped, and in one swift motion I’d launched myself at him.
He scooped me into his arms. My lips touched his. His mouth burned against mine. His fingers tangled in my hair. My fingers slid through his. I panted as our kiss deepened.
“Ear nibbling,” I murmured into his mouth.
He laughed. Roan untangled himself from me. I was surprised to find myself trying to climb up his leg so that I could reach his mouth easier.
It was horribly embarrassing. Who was this person I’d become? All someone had to do was mention a little flesh eating and I became a crazy woman with a weakness for tall, scorchingly sarcastic men.
Not men—Roan.
He took both my hands in his. “Did you just say ear nibbling?”
“I haven’t stopped thinking about it all afternoon. I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but that word has twisted my emotions. I don’t like it.”
He chuckled. He grinned down at me and clipped my chin with his fingers. “Tell you what, let’s go eat some supper and then I’ll whisper ‘ear nibbling’ to you all night if you want.”
“I might explode if you do that to me.”
He led me from the house. “Nah. I’ll make sure you stay in one piece.”
He helped me into his G-Wagon, and we headed down the street.
“Where are we going? Your place?”
“No,” he said pointedly. “Especially not with the way you’re talking about ear nibbling. We wouldn’t get through dinner.”
I crossed my arms. “That’s very confident of you.”
His gaze slid toward me. “You’re kidding, right? You just gave me a tonsillectomy. What would happen if I took you back to the inn right now?”
I scoffed. “We’d eat a great supper that you cooked.”
“And then?” He turned to me.
Ear nibbling and then neck nibbling, and then clavicle nibbling, and then belly button nibbling and then…
“Nothing would happen. We’d have dinner, you’d bring me back here, I’d leave and that would be the end of it.” I dropped my hands in my lap for emphasis.
“Right. You’d have your clothes off in about three minutes.”
I gasped. “You sure do think highly of yourself.”
“Ah, but you didn’t see the look in your eyes. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”
“Thank you for saving me from you.”
He chuckled. “Oh, I haven’t saved you.”
My breath caught. “I’m sorry. What?”
He grinned. “I haven’t saved you from me. I’m just not going to let you climb all over me until we at least know more about each other.”
“Okay, well.” I extended my hand. “My name’s Blissful Breneaux. I grew up in an orphanage in Alabama. My adopted father rescued me from it and trained me to catch ghosts and help them transition to the other side. I just, not less than a day ago, discovered my entire life is a lie, so I’ve got some things to work through. I don’t have siblings, though as you know my biological father was a priest and my mother was a nun. Clearly, with such a colorful family history I will be screwed up in the head, if not now, then in the future.” I inhaled. “I’m counting on it.”
Without sidestepping a beat, Roan spoke. “Hi, my name is Roan Eclin Storm. I was born and raised in Haunted Hollow.” He flattened his hand to his chest. “Unlike my family, I wanted to do something with my life other than work a B and B. I moved out, made some money, traveled and returned when I was told that I had to, otherwise a spirit would break free from my basement and wreak havoc on the town.”
Our gazes met and we laughed. “Boy, what a pair we are,” Roan said.
“Ear nibbling,” I murmured.
We laughed again. When the cabin quieted, I said, “So where are we going for dinner?”
“There’s a great little place just down the mountain.”
“Oh, I’ve barely left Haunted Hollow since I moved in.”
“Well, it’s time you did.”
Roan steered the truck down the winding road that led out of town. The sun had long set, and I snuggled down into the seat, inhaling the smell of well-worn leather and spiced pine that drifted off Roan’s skin. The cabin smelled like Roan had sprinkled his scent throughout.
It was heaven. Yes, that was hard to admit, but true.
We reached the bottom of the mountain. Sure enough, tucked into a corner under a bluff, sat a well-lit restaurant.
Roan slid into a spot and killed the engine. “This place has the best chips and salsa around.”
“Great. I love Mexican food.”
“Oh, it’s not Mexican.”
I stared at him. The dome light reflected the mischief in his eyes. “You’re kidding.”
He nodded. “I am. Come on. Let’s eat.”
Roan came around and opened my door. He took my hand as I jumped out. I stared into his eyes. Energy buzzed around us. I felt myself falling into his kiss.
My phone buzzed. If it hadn’t been jammed in my pocket, I would’ve ignored it, but you know, I didn’t need to kiss Roan because that got me thinking about all kinds of other things I didn’t need to.
I really needed a better hobby than fantasizing about him.
I pulled my phone from my pocket. Ruth’s name flashed on the screen. “Give me just a second.” I flashed him a smile and turned away.
I thumbed the phone on. “Everything okay?”
“Blissful, we’ve got to do it tonight.”
I frowned. “What?”
She spoke slower. “We have to find the evidence tonight. Homer and his father are out.”
And right when I was about to have dinner with Roan. “Why can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“Kency’s got men out looking for Alice. That’s what I’m hearing. We have to find what we need now. Not tomorrow. By then Alice might be found and arrested.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. As much as I wanted to spend time with Roan—and I really, really wanted to do that—I had to help Alice. If now was the best shot we had at sifting through an empty house, so be it.
“You’ve got to hurry, Blissful. Homer and Farris won’t be gone all night.”
I clutched my phone. There really wasn’t a decision to make. I needed to be with my friends and help them any way I could.
“See you in a few minutes.”
“We’re on our way to the Hicks’s house. This might be our only chance.”
“I understand.”
I hung up the phone. My shoulders slumped as I thought about the date that wouldn’t be.
Wait a minute. It wasn’t as if my life was ending. There would be other dates with Roan. I really needed to get a grip. Who was I becoming? I wasn’t about to become a needy Roan groupie. No, I was Blissful Breneaux, confident woman.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and turned around. Roan stood discreetly to the side, giving me plenty of room to have a quiet conversation about covert things.
He reached for my hand. A luscious smile danced on his lips. “You ready?”
I crumpled slightly. “About that. I just got a call that I’m needed elsewhere. An emergency’s come up. I’ve got to help Ruth…get something ready for this thing she’s doing. We were going to do it tomorrow but…um, we can’t.”
He arched a brow. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the Norton murder, would it?”
Was I supposed to lie? Roan had helped me question a couple of folks but he didn’t know the extent of what we were preparing to do. Talking to people is one thing, breaking into their homes was another.
Pretty sure Roan would not approve of my plan.
“Oh no, it doesn’t have anything to do with the murder.”
Not really, but kinda sorta.
“Are you sure?” He said it like he already knew the answer, which was that it had everything to do with the killing.
“Oh, I’m sure.” I headed back to his truck. “Listen, if you could just drop me off that would be great.”
“Okay,” he said, opening the door for me. “Where’re we headed.”
Before I stopped myself, I blurted, “Homer Hicks’s house.”
The look on Roan’s face was priceless as he shut the door.
TWENTY-FOUR
“I’m not dropping you off at Homer Hicks’s house unless you tell me what’s going on.”
“You promise not to judge me?”
Roan paused. “No. I can’t promise that.”
“And I so thought you might.”
He smirked. “I can try not to.”
“Is that the best I’m going to get?”
His gaze flickered to me. His scowl would’ve made a weaker woman dive under the seat. It was scathing.
I could do that, too. “I’m great at giving dirty looks.”
“Why am I dropping you off at Homer Hicks’s?”
I sighed. “I’m not going to be able to get out of answering you, am I?”
“Not if you don’t want me to call Kency Blount.”
I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re going to threaten me with her?”
“I will if I have to.” His knuckles whitened as his hand tightened on the steering wheel. “You think Homer killed Susan W
hitby, and now you’re meeting Ruth and presumably Alice at his house, obviously. Of course I’m suspicious. I think that’s a normal response.”
I wedged my back into the seat. “I think Homer murdered Neal Norton. I’m going in to look for evidence.”
His eyes bugged from his head. “You’re going to break into his house and look around?”
“I have good reason to do that.”
“Breaking and entering is a felony.”
I waved my hand dismissively. “I won’t be breaking. I’m pretty sure I’ll find a ghost who’ll unlock a door for me. I never break.”
“You’ve done this before?” The level of surprise in his voice reached epic proportions.
“Yes. When you flashed the light in Slick’s house, I was inside with Meredith Wilkes. Remember her? She tried to kill me.” I crossed my arms dramatically and huffed.
The cabin was silent as I’m sure Roan tried to marry his idea of me along with the fact that I’d just admitted I was going to look for evidence at the hardware store owner’s house.
“Listen, you can drop me off on the side of the road if you want to. It’s not going to change anything.”
“I’m not going to do that,” he said quietly.
“Then what are you going to do?”
Another soul-crushingly long pause. “I’ll take you where you want.”
“Thanks.”
“But I don’t know if we can see each other again.”
I’m sorry? I deflated. “Oh. Okay.”
He tapped a finger to his mouth. “I mean, what did you think, Blissful? Do you think it’s okay to break into someone’s home and sift through their garbage?”
“If they’ve committed murder, yes.”
“That’s not your job. That’s the police’s.”
I jutted out my chin. “I disagree.”
His jaw flexed. Roan didn’t say anything, but he might as well have been wearing a giant sign that read, I DISAPPROVE.
Whatever. I wasn’t staying in Haunted Hollow for him. I was staying for myself. Wait. Was I staying?
Too many thoughts. Too many things to consider. I shook my head and nestled into the seat. All I knew was that I wanted to be out of the vehicle. Roan had cut off any and all ear-nibbling dates. The last thing I wanted was to be forced to sit in a car with him.