“You can say what?” The man beside her asked.
Her eyes widened as they followed the large, outstretched hand to a long, muscled arm connected to yet another vision of divine masculinity.
Help! She’d fallen into a porn movie and she couldn’t get up.
“H-hello? I can say hello?”
His smile was kind. Oh damn, he was nice, too. “Yes, you can. And I can say it’s good to meet you, Ms. Sorelle. I’ve heard great things.”
“I doubt that.” Her face heated, and even though it was the end of October, she decided to blame it on the weather. She wasn’t used to the humidity. It couldn’t have anything to do with the man currently helping her out of Michelle’s tiny deathtrap of a car.
If Benjamin Adair was Adonis, this guy was a fallen angel. A beautiful caramel-skinned angel with a heart-stopping body, full lips, and an impressive array of tattoos. But it was his warm hazel eyes and gentle smile told her she had nothing to fear from him.
Fallen angels were tricky that way.
“Bethany. Move out of the way, lover. I feel like I know you already.” A slender woman with strawberry blonde hair, freckles, and sparkling blue eyes nudged the angel aside and wrapped Bethany in a surprisingly strong embrace.
Hugging. Remember? You read about this. It’s how normal people say hello.
Her inner cynic was a smartass.
This had to be Michelle’s college friend and, up until the last few months, her roommate. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Jarod.”
“Oh, call me Allegra, please. Besides,” she pulled back and smiled lovingly at the man beside them. “I’ll be Mrs. Rousseau in a few more days.”
So the angel was Celestin Rousseau. His mother had certainly named him appropriately. A few more days? “You’re getting married on Halloween?”
While I’m here?
“All Saints’.” The gorgeous Ben had stopped ravaging Michelle and come to join their conversation, Bethany’s small red suitcase in his hand. “The first day of November, when we honor those who have crossed over.”
Creepy. “That’s, um, so romantic and unexpected.”
And if Michelle had bothered to tell her, she would have bought the couple something from their registry.
Michelle’s laugh was loud and familiar, making Bethany smile. “By unexpected, she means I didn’t tell her, but that’s because they only decided on the date a week ago. And it is unusual, but Allegra chose it for incredibly romantic reasons.”
“What? Did they meet bobbing for apples?”
Bethany blushed when they all laughed at her blurted question. She was funny. Who knew?
“Grabbing coffee,” Michelle answered. “But she wants to pay homage to the—what actually brought them together. And Rousseau spoils her rotten, so Halloween it is.”
Beth eyed her curiously at the obvious significance behind her hesitation, but Michelle didn’t elaborate.
“Let’s get her inside before we scare her back to New York.” Rousseau slid his arm around Allegra, leading her back into the house while Ben followed close behind.
Michelle slowed her pace while Beth took in her surroundings. The lawn was immaculately groomed and a large oak tree in the front yard dripped with Spanish moss. The aroma of gardenias and damp earth embraced her, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to sit beneath that tree and soak it all in.
She was finally here.
“I never thought I’d see it in person. Isn’t that crazy? Why did I wait so long to visit you again?”
Michelle shrugged and slid her arm through Bethany’s. “You mean other than your travel related phobias and general mule-headedness? I don’t know. Maybe it wasn’t the right time.”
Bethany scoffed. “If you’re about to say now is the right time for a visit, when your dance card is full with your sexy boyfriend and Allegra’s wedding…”
Michelle lifted her chin. “Maybe it is. I’ve wanted you and Allegra to meet for years. My two best girlfriends, finally together. The truth is, I couldn’t have planned it better if I tried.”
“You did plan this,” Bethany couldn’t help but point out. “You made my reservation after you knew about their wedding date, didn’t you?”
“Fine. You caught me. I missed you, I have mysterious historical goodies to share, and Allegra’s family isn’t coming to her wedding. All the birds. One stone.”
Bethany frowned thoughtfully. “They can’t come? Or they won’t?”
Michelle grimaced. “That’s complicated. Let’s just say they’re very uptight with delicate constitutions.”
She still felt the warm sincerity of the redhead’s embrace. “Was Allegra a changeling?”
Her friend smiled in relief. “It’s a theory.”
“Okay, you win. I’m here. But I’m staying out of the way unless I’m needed. She might not want me around for all the bridal prep. Just let me at that treasure and out of the bachelorette party. Deal?”
“I make no promises.”
Michelle led her straight through to the kitchen, where Rousseau was at the stove putting the finishing touches on something that smelled delicious. Bethany’s stomach immediately made itself known to the group.
“I figured you hadn’t eaten all day.”
“You know me so well.”
It was a warm kitchen, recently restored, and much to Bethany’s dismay, someone had added modern appliances and a marble countertop. She understood their reasoning—she’d just expected to see something different. A large hearth kitchen and the bustling of cooks and servants maybe.
She’d been reading too many historicals.
The same feeling of familiarity filled her. Everything from the height of the walls to the light coming through the windows made her feel equal parts anxious and energized. It was a new experience, she reasoned. Finally experiencing instead of observing. It made perfect sense to her. But her wide, probably glazed expression might be making her new friends uncomfortable.
“Can I help?”
The others were working together, gathering bowls and silverware, or dipping their finger into Rousseau’s pot.
“You’re a guest,” Ben said, shaking his head. “You just relax and let Rousseau here do all the work.”
Rousseau chuckled, and Allegra looked over at him with a heated expression that made Bethany feel as if she were invading a private moment. Two couples. So not a third wheel as much as a fifth.
She wasn’t comfortable around people. Never had been.
You promised yourself you’d try.
She pulled her waist-long braid, her only nod to vanity, over her shoulder and fiddled with it, searching for something to say. Small talk. She could do small talk, right?
“So, um, Allegra. Michelle tells me you’re writing a book about voodoo spirits. I’ve always enjoyed your magazine articles. You have a way of making people feel like they’re on the adventure with you.”
Allegra grinned, her arms coming up as she placed her hair in a sloppy knot on top of her head. The movement showed off the scars running down both arms, the only visible sign that the lively woman had been in that horrible accident a few years before.
“I’m glad someone read them,” she joked lightly. “This story is a little different though. Okay, a lot different. From the way Michelle’s bragged about your literary acumen, I’m not sure it would be up your alley.”
Bethany’s shoulders relaxed, as they usually did when discussing her favorite topic. “I don’t know what Michelle told you, but I’m not a snob when it comes to reading.”
“What is she a snob about?” Ben asked in an aside.
“I’ll tell you later.”
Ignoring their banter, Bethany focused on Allegra. “I swear, all books are up my alley. Other people fill their apartments with furniture, pets or people. I fill mine with books. All topics in multiple languages and zero judgment. What kind of book is it? What’s the title?”
“It’s called Bone Daddy,” Ben drawled with a wide,
teasing grin. “And according to my Mimi, it’s very educational. Legs and Rousseau have been researching for months now.”
Rousseau sent a mock glare in his friend’s direction. “That’s enough out of you. Knowing this group, I’m sure Bethany will find out about that subject before too long. But at the moment, your guests are hungry and my jambalaya is ready, so let’s deal with one thing at a time.”
They took their steaming bowls out to the main dining room. It looked like it was meant for linen and lace, for silver tureens and respectfully folded hands. But Ben grabbed the ornate wooden chair Michelle was sitting on and dragged it closer to him without fanfare, and Allegra and Rousseau were practically in each other’s laps as they ate.
She supposed standing on ceremony seemed unnecessary when you were that in love. She wouldn’t know.
Reason number one hundred and twenty-two why books were better than people: Happy endings were basically guaranteed, but in the end, you knew it was fiction so you felt better going to bed alone.
Michelle and Allegra’s happy endings were real. It was a little disconcerting.
And now you sound bitter.
She wasn’t. She was honestly comfortable with the fact that that kind of thing wasn’t in the cards for someone like her. A thirty-seven-year-old creature of habit, far too set in her ways to change. Some people were better off alone. Her aunt had taught her that. At least it was preferable to loving someone who would never love her in return, or settling for less than what Michelle had clearly found after returning home.
“This is delicious.” She scooped another bite of the fiery concoction into her mouth and closed her eyes in delight.
“Not too spicy?” Rousseau asked sincerely. “I’m told I can be a little heavy-handed.”
Michelle laughed. “Please. My Bethany could sit here eating the hottest pepper ever created without breaking a sweat. It’s a super power, like Allegra’s ability to get into trouble.”
“Hey.” But Allegra smiled as she said it.
Michelle pointed toward Bethany. “She once invited me over to share a carton of some kind of Thai insanity that she called papaya salad, but was secretly covered in chilies that about killed me.”
“You’re exaggerating a little.” She still felt bad about that. “But to be fair, the delivery guy and I were so close we practically exchanged greeting cards. He always asked them to give me extra chilies and it kind of slipped my mind.”
Allegra was shaking her head. “And Michelle always told us the food was boring in New York.”
“Compared to home, it was,” Michelle said agreeably. “Unless I was at Bethany’s. She knew all those out of the way places that served the best food.”
She toasted Michelle with her spoon. “It takes years of takeout menu experimentation to become a master. If you reach my level, you either have no life, twenty cats, or both.”
Bethany looked down at her bowl when the laughter died as they wondered how to respond to her comment. She should have quit while she was ahead.
A cool breeze shimmied up her spine, giving her a start. It was followed quickly by something tugged on her braid. She turned around in her chair, frowning. “Speaking of cats, do you have some you didn’t tell me about?”
She turned back and noticed Michelle’s bright green eyes were focused on the space behind her. “No cats.”
Rousseau sighed and set his spoon down. “Here we go.”
“Where? Where are we going?”
“It’s okay. She’s not a fan of airplanes, but she can handle all kinds of things other people can’t. And she believes in ghosts. Don’t you, Bethany?”
Her eyes narrowed. Where was Michelle going with this? “We’ve only had this conversation a few dozen times.”
“Why do you believe?”
Bethany shrugged. “Because ‘there are more things in heaven and earth’ et cetera. Honestly, I was always surprised you didn’t, growing up here the way you did. It’s hard to believe New Orleans isn’t full of spirits.”
Everyone was staring at her in surprise, and she bit her lip. “I believe in fairies, too, but don’t let that get around.”
The men chuckled at her weak attempt at humor and Michelle smiled, but it was strained. “I’d forgotten about your fairies.”
“I haven’t. I’m telling you, those pesky buggers steal my reading glasses all the time.”
Michelle laughed. “And then conveniently set them on your head when you aren’t paying attention?”
Bethany made a face and everyone laughed again. Not at her. With her. She realized she was actually enjoying herself. Maybe her anti-anxiety medication was still working. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d bantered with people who weren’t on the phone or on some online forum. And living, breathing, gorgeous men usually turned her into a mute with an eye tic.
Bethany felt another tug on her braid and pulled it over her shoulder protectively, looking around once more in confusion. “Is it ferrets? Gnomes? Seriously, something keeps tugging on my hair. Am I being hazed?”
“No,” Michelle said slowly. “You’re not being hazed, Bethany. You’re being haunted. Or let’s say, affectionately teased by the boy who lives in this house.”
No way. “You’re saying you have ghosts? You, Michelle Toussaint? The person who laughed at anything metaphysical and changed the channel every time I tried to watch—”
“Yes,” she interrupted, looking at the others as if embarrassed. “I was going through a phase for a few years.”
“Try over a decade,” Ben murmured.
Michelle ignored him. “And there aren’t ghosts, plural. Just the one. Emmanuel kind of came with the house, although he can leave whenever he wants. We didn’t see him again until a week after I moved in.”
Bethany stilled. “Again?”
Ben nodded. “Mimi and I used to play with him as children.”
“There’s a ghost behind my chair that Michelle used to play with as a child?”
Her friend winced. “I’ll explain everything later, but he’s the one who wants your attention now. I’ve never seen him smile like that. He’s glad you’re here.”
He was? And Michelle could see him? “I swore that was a cat. He’s a little short, isn’t he?”
The air blowing on Bethany’s back grew colder, and Michelle laughed.
“He’s sensitive about his height. Especially since we’ve gotten so much bigger, and he hasn’t. Emmanuel, give Bethany a second to catch up. She just got here.”
“Oh, hell.” But excitement tingled up her spine. “Now I’ll have to stay, won’t I? And you have a lot to fill me in on.”
“We need more wine.”
Chapter 2
She ran a brush through her hair as she stood in front of the antique bathroom vanity, thinking about the day’s revelations. Her inner agoraphobe was screaming for her to pack up and grab the earliest plane home. Only there could she be safely surrounded by her books and four solid walls. No ghost whisperers, no telepaths, and no one who claimed to have been possessed by a voodoo spirit for the last several years. If they were in a book, she wouldn’t be able to put it down, but she wasn’t too sure she enjoyed being in the story.
Forget porn movie, she’d landed in an episode of The Outer Limits.
The strangest part of the whole evening? She’d believed every word they said. Especially after Ben took her hand and told her a few things about herself that no one else could know. Not even Michelle. And by the somber looks he threw her way the rest of the evening, she knew he’d seen more than he’d shared.
After a few glasses of wine, Allegra opened up about the story she was writing. The masses would believe they were reading erotic fiction, but apparently, they would be wrong.
It was both horrifying and fascinating to think that this Bone Daddy really existed. A spirit that invaded a body and fed off orgasms. One who’d apparently been around forever, and knew more about sex than she knew about anything.
Who wo
uldn’t be tempted by someone—or something—like that? Although she couldn’t imagine having to give herself over long enough for a voodoo ritual, let alone the years Rousseau had been “ridden” by the thing.
Allegra managed to make an exorcism via climax sound romantic, which told Bethany all she needed to know about how good the book was going to be. It also explained the pure adoration in Rousseau’s eyes when he looked at his future bride. She’d saved him. Given him his life back, and someone to share it with.
It was a strange love story, but it seemed to work for them.
The most difficult part of the night came with Michelle’s revelations about her abilities. They’d shared so much over the years, but not this. It hurt for a minute, but it helped that Michelle put everything on the table, including the reason she’d left New York so abruptly. Being chased by a murderous, dark spirit sounded like one hell of a good reason. Michelle skimmed over the scarier parts of her story, lingering on her childhood adventures with Ben and the ghost Emmanuel, and what he’d initially told them of his sister Isabel’s treasure. Ben admitted he’d bought the mansion while Michelle was in New York, because it reminded him of her.
Bethany smiled at herself in the mirror. Adair fit the definition of a charming scoundrel perfectly. She doubted anyone could help but like him.
They were all very nice. For beautiful, crazy people.
One of these things, is not like the other.
She might be a little crazy, but she was no freckled fairy like Allegra, or sexy seer like Michelle. She was just plain Bethany. With an emphasis on plain. Her eyes were blue, but not ice blue or indigo blue. Basic. A comfortable-pair-of-jeans blue. Her lips were unusual but not in a way she found flattering. The top lip was fuller than the bottom, which never screamed sexy to her so much as, “Did you have an allergic reaction to dinner?” Even her body was average. Not too plump, not even close to skinny, but it did what she asked it to, so she rarely complained or felt the need to curb her appetite.
Her hair was her one vanity. Thick, with a natural wave, it shined from her nightly brushing and hung down her back like a curtain of ebony silk. Her aunt and guardian, Sally, once told her that the hair came from her side. She’d also mentioned that her stubbornness, on the other hand, had to be from her father. Not that Bethany would know first-hand. All she ever had of her parents were pictures, books, and the stories her aunt doled out with a stinginess that bordered on cruelty.
Undo Me (Bone Daddy Book 3) Page 2