Stacey Joy Netzel Boxed Set

by Stacey Joy Netzel

  “Of what?” she asked softly.

  “What if everything goes back to the way it was before?”

  Her heart tripped, but she gathered her courage. “Are you still angry, Andrew?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I feel at peace for the first time in one hundred and...some years. Time doesn’t seem to matter anymore.”

  She took a deep breath and said a silent prayer. “Then I believe, whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

  He rose to his feet. When he extended his arm to assist her up, she glanced first at his hand, then his vulnerable smile. Raising her own hand, she slipped her fingers into his. The warmth of them curled around hers, gripped, and lifted her to her feet as if she were a feather. A tingle worked its way along the length of her arm and spread through her entire body.

  He raised their hands, fit them palm against palm, then intertwined their fingers. Their heartbeats pulsed together in perfect rhythm, gradually increasing in speed the longer they stared at each other. Melanie realized she held her breath at the moment Andrew spoke.

  “Forgive me if I am too forward, but…I would very much like to kiss you right now.”

  She willed her lungs to work, inadvertently inhaling his musky scent. “I thought you would never ask.”

  His slow, confidence-infused smile took her breath away all over again. His other hand rose to her face and his knuckles brushed lightly against her cheek before he threaded his fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck. He lowered his head, gray eyes mesmerizing.

  The touch of his lips against hers sent a jolt clear to her toes.

  He kissed her as a gentleman of 1860. She closed her eyes and kissed him back as a modern woman who knew what she wanted and had waited too long for the real thing. Andrew stiffened at her boldness, but when she began to pull back, his arms drew her tight against him. She felt every inch of his length, reveled in the lean hardness of him. Passion flared as he took possession of her mouth without holding anything back.

  He was more man than she’d ever dreamed of, and in that moment, she knew without a doubt she’d fallen in love.

  His lips gentled, passion giving way for a tenderness that swelled her heart near to bursting. When he lifted his head and gazed down at her with the emotion of her heart shining in his eyes, tears blurred her vision.

  “Melanie…I…”

  She blinked rapidly to clear the moisture. She wanted to see his face when he said I love you.

  Only he still didn’t come in clear. Lifting a hand, she quickly dashed any lingering tears from her lashes, then stared as her heart plummeted. She could see through him.

  “Andrew?” Fear and confusion raised her voice an octave higher than normal.

  His hand lifted to her cheek, but all she felt was a faint brush of air.

  “Melanie, it’s okay.”

  “No.” She shook her head, then repeated more firmly, “No.”

  He smiled at her, sad and reassuring at the same time.

  Anger stirred within her. She clenched her fists and glared up at the heavens. “Not now! You can’t take him yet! Not now that I’ve finally—”

  “Melanie.”

  Andrew’s gentle voice cut through her anguish. She looked back at him and was relieved to see he’d stopped fading away. He now stood before her, brighter than ever before.

  “From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.”

  And then he was gone. Disbelief warred with cruel reality. Melanie dropped to her knees as fresh tears flowed.

  I love you.

  Her head jerked up at the sound of his voice. She whirled around, but saw nothing other than the mountains and the trees and the tombstones—

  The tombstone!

  With her heart beating frantically, she rushed to his grave and touched the granite. Cool. No, not just cool—cold. She flattened her palm over his name, willing it to warm beneath her touch.

  She remembered his dry remark about her summoning him. Yes, damn it, that’s exactly what she was doing now.

  “Andrew? Please.”

  But by the time darkness fell, she had to face the fact that Andrew would not return that night. The stone remained cold and the air had turned chilly as well. She made her way home with a heavy heart and crawled into bed to await the dawn.

  Something had changed with their kiss. That wonderful, beautiful, soul-melding kiss. But the way he’d said, “Thank you,”—she feared she’d never see Andrew’s ghost again.

  Chapter Six

  Melanie called in sick to work for the first time in twelve years. One day. She’d give herself one day to mourn her loss and then she’d have to move on with her life. The only way she could be so stoic about the situation was to keep reminding herself that Andrew had assured her all was okay.

  His soul had found peace, as it should. As he deserved.

  Today, she planned to go to the cemetery for a final goodbye, then find John to talk about her idea of writing the book. She would not go back on her word to Andrew that the world would know the truth about what happened. She already knew the title: If Tombstones Could Talk. No longer would the local historical society debate good and evil in the name of Andrew Lindeman.

  The walk to the cemetery took forever and yet did not give her enough time to prepare. Hoping against hope, she halted beneath the giant red oak and knelt beside the tombstones. She felt the plain rock first. Cold. But it always had been. It was the other stone, the tall one placed with her family’s love that had always warmed with his presence.

  Her hand trembled as she reached forward.

  She traced the A in Andrew, then flattened her palm over his name. Nothing happened. Head hung low, she kept her hand there and said a prayer for his soul. She’d expected tears, even brought tissues, but her eyes remained dry. Her heart hurt, but not as bad as she’d thought. Knowing he finally rested in peace eased the ache.

  She wasn’t sure how long she knelt there, but suddenly the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

  “I hoped you’d come back.”

  Her heart nearly stopped at the sound of his deep, sexy voice directly behind her. Holding her breath, she rose to her feet and slowly turned around. “I had to say good—”

  She stared in shock. Her hand reached of its own accord, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to touch.

  “My God,” she whispered. “What…how?”

  He lifted his arm—his flesh and blood arm—and stroked her cheek. His thumb brushed her mouth, parting her lips as he stepped closer. “I’m just going with the flow here.”

  His head dipped, and she rose on her tiptoes to meet him halfway. He urged her arms up around his neck, then skimmed his hands down across her back to pull her tight against him. As his seeking tongue parted her lips and caressed hers, he lifted her off her feet in a slow turn. His heat burned her inside and out, her softer curves molding to his hard contours. Yesterday’s kiss had been amazing; this one was pure heaven.

  Though she didn’t want the magic to end, she finally leaned back in his arms and gazed deep into his slate-gray eyes.

  “Andrew…before I lose my chance…I mean, if you were to go away again, I want you to know—”

  He silenced her with another kiss. “You set my soul free. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Much as I pray that’s true, you don’t know that for sure. After what happened yesterday—”

  A finger to her lips cut her off again. As he led her to a bench nearby and sat her down, she let her gaze travel over his body and that’s when she noticed his clothes—a black T-shirt, a very worn pair of faded jeans, and Nikes that’d seen better days.

  He’d never looked better. Strange though, the different clothes—

  “Melanie, there’s something you need to know.”

  His serious statement brought her gaze back to his. Before he could say something that would make her chicken out, she leaned close to rest her palms against his firm chest. As long as she was able to, she’d never tire of
touching him.

  “It’s okay, I know already. I heard you yesterday, and I love you, too.”

  He went still except for the hammering of his heart beneath her fingers. Then that slow, sexy smile of his spread across his face. “Yeah?”

  She answered with a deep, sensual kiss that should leave no doubt as to her feelings. Still, when she pulled away, she gave him a grin and said, “Yeah.” She reached a hand to run her fingers through his hair, absently marveling at the short, fashionable cut.

  “Well, in that case, you’ll have to get used to calling me Drew.”

  She frowned with a bewildered smile, but before she could ask why, a voice called her name behind them.

  “Melanie?”

  They both turned around to see John walking toward them.

  “Hi, John,” she called back as she waved.

  She couldn’t wait to introduce them, and Andrew was right, using his full name would be a little conspicuous—especially with John. Maybe someday, after the book, she’d be able to tell him who Andrew really was.

  John’s gaze shifted to Andrew as he approached, then he turned to Melanie with a wide smile. “I see you’ve met my son, Drew.”

  Melanie’s gaze swung to Andrew’s. Drew’s. The clothes...the hair...

  Oh my God.

  “But...it’s you,” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “And him?”

  “You mean me?” He smiled. “Yes.”

  She swept her gaze over Drew, then eyed John with suspicion. “Did you know about this?”

  His welcoming smile faded to a confused frown. “About what?”

  Back to Drew. Her heart was completely on board, but her mind was having trouble catching up. Before she could voice the next question on her tongue, he was already mid-shrug.

  “I don’t know how, Melanie. All I know is I remember both lives. Somehow, I’ve lived both lives.”

  She relaxed a bit after hearing him say what she’d been trying to grasp. If he said it, that meant she wasn’t going crazy. His smile wavered, vulnerable and hopeful at the same time as he dipped his chin and lifted his eyebrows.

  “Can you handle that?”

  After a quick glance toward an obviously perplexed John, she focused back on Drew and lowered her voice. “Did I really hear what you said yesterday, or was that just wishful thinking on my part?”

  “I may have the memories of two souls, but I know you, and yes...I love you, Melanie.”

  The words sounded even better out loud in his emotion-rough voice. Grinning so wide her cheeks hurt, she slid her hands over his shoulders and linked her fingers behind his head. “Then I can handle whatever you’ve got for me, Drew.”

  A grin flashed before he caught her mouth in a hot, heady kiss that sealed their pledge and promised so much more. She pulled him closer, reveling in the warmth of his solid embrace. Just before passion took over, John cleared his throat and dragged them back to reality.

  “Would someone please tell me what the heck is going on? I thought you two just met.”

  Melanie felt Drew’s smile and eased back with a soft laugh. “Probably better if you explain.”

  “Think he’ll believe it?”

  “Yeah...I think he might.” She laid her palm against his cheek, gazing into his shining gray eyes, happier than she’d ever imagined possible. “But in the end, it really only matters if we do.”

  ~*~

  Ditched Again

  by

  Stacey Joy Netzel

  (back to top)

  Summer Clark: Yes, I’m excited for my ten year class reunion—I flew all the way from Florida to Wisconsin so I could rub my success in Josh Nelson’s face. I know it sounds vindictive, but the jerk ditched me at the Snowball dance, left me to find my own ride home, and never apologized. He’s got it coming…if I can get a tow truck to come out in this freak May snowstorm and pull my rental car out of the ditch.

  Josh Nelson: No, I’m not looking forward to the reunion. Just hearing the name Summer Clark brings back memories of a night I buried long ago and never talked about again. Seeing her means skirting the truth while trying to deliver a way-too-late apology. No, with this storm, I think I’ll head home…as soon as I help this car sunk in the ditch.

  Clearly, there are two sides to every story.

  Dedication:

  Jena, thanks for your friendship and input...

  now and back in high school!

  Additional thanks goes to authors Barbara Raffin and Carol Ericson.

  SUMMER CLARK

  I drove down the two lane state highway toward my hometown of Silver Falls with a ball of nerves tangled in my stomach. Some were excited nerves because I was returning home for my ten year class reunion. Others were just nerves because as was typical in Wisconsin, Old Man Winter was paying one last visit on this fifth day of May and the road was covered in four inches of snow.

  My fingers white-knuckled the wheel as the wet, slushy mess shoved and pulled my small rental back and forth, juggling me and the car between the invisible center line and the mushy gravel shoulder that had already tried to suck us into the ditch twice. I’d forgotten what it felt like to drive in this crap, but thankfully I only had about fifteen more miles to Northeast Wisconsin’s version of civilization.

  Despite the unexpected weather, I was really looking forward to this weekend. Being back in the Dairy Land of rolling hills and plowed fields (though I couldn’t see them now), I realized I’d missed my home state, snow and all. I’d had no reason to return. See, once I’d finished college, I found myself an amazing job in southern Florida, and my parents decided to enjoy early retirement in…you guessed it—Florida.

  Don’t get me wrong. I liked having them there. They’re great dog-sitters and it’s really nice not to have to spend a fortune travelling for the holidays, but it was a bit of a shock when they came for that first visit—and stayed. These days, my dog, Jenga, and I enjoyed an acceptable half an hour buffer between their condo and mine and Mom finally realized it’s not polite—or smart—to drop in for an unannounced visit. Then again, since my last relationship ended six months ago, that hasn’t been much of an issue.

  I saw the sign for Silver Falls and the nervous excitement did another little dance in my belly. I couldn’t wait to see how the town had changed. I couldn’t wait to see my cousin and classmate, Jenna. But mostly, vain though it sounded, I couldn’t wait to show Silver Falls how this shy wallflower had blossomed into a confident woman who now ran her own successful business.

  And by Silver Falls, I meant Josh Nelsen.

  My grip tightened even more on the steering wheel, and I forced a deep breath, willing my hands to relax. It was stupid to let what had happened in high school still bother me. Actually, I thought I’d forgotten it, or at the very least, put it behind me years ago.

  Until the reunion invitation arrived.

  Faced with the possibility of seeing Josh again, the old hurt and humiliation surged forward. Standing in my sunlit kitchen the day after New Years, I was transported back to not only my worst date ever, but my one and only date in high school.

  I’d had a crush on Josh Nelsen for three years, ever since we were freshman and he showed up in my English Lit. class. It was two weeks until the Snowball Winter Formal, and Josh had been elected to the Court as the representative for the junior class. Now he had to pick a date, our class’s female representative, and she had to be a junior, too.

  Oh, I dreamt about going to dances as most girls do in high school, but I’d already had two and a half years of staying home to prepare for my reality. Not quite pretty enough for the popular clique and not someone who excelled at anything in particular, I was easygoing on the outside and painfully shy on the inside.

  I had a few close friends, girls and boys alike. I got along with most of the people in my class, as well as classmates in the grade above and below me, but I’d never been asked on a date. Of course, the one guy I really wanted to ask me to do anyth
ing, Josh, was dating a senior and had been for a year. Josh and Lyssa had a rocky relationship, punctuated by hallway break-ups and equally public make-ups that involved lots of tongue.

  About the time Josh was elected junior representative, he and Lyssa were in the off-again stage. That’s when rumors began to circulate that Josh was going to ask me to be his date to the Snowball. Me, Summer Clark, the junior Snowball representative. Me, on a date with Josh! I was so nervous, and yet more excited than when I’d gone to Space Camp for a week in the seventh grade.

  Miracle of miracles, he did ask. I even managed to accept without sounding like a total, breathless idiot. I hoped. We’d maintained a very casual friendship prior to him asking me out. Josh was one of those people I got along with while still managing to hide my feelings. Casual “hi” in the hall; smile across the classroom; “see you tomorrow” if we happened to pass each other at the end of the day. Much to my relief our status continued as normal because it was bad enough I kept fantasizing about the end of the date, I didn’t need added social stimulation in the weeks leading up to it.

  It snowed the night of the dance, too. I wore a beautiful, emerald green floor-length dress to complement my long dark hair. Josh showed up looking great in a black tux and crisp white shirt, his brown hair gelled back in the current style.

  “Wow,” he said when I opened the door. “You look great, Summer.”

  “Thanks.” I ducked my head and smiled, full of shyness and hope. “So do you.”

  He slipped a pink corsage on my wrist and took me to dinner before the dance. It was almost perfect, except for the shrimp that fell off my fork and rolled along my dress to the floor. My cheeks flamed with embarrassment, but as I wiped at the barely discernable stain, he laughed and told me not to worry about it. I tried not to.

  Once inside the transformed, glittering school gymnasium, Josh and I danced, he got me punch before the seniors spiked the bowl, and then escorted me through the formal court processional while I prayed I wouldn’t trip. I felt like a princess during the yearbook pictures that followed. The night was a dream come true. I even managed to set aside my anxious anticipation of a possible goodnight kiss while I giggled on the side of the dance floor with Jenna and my other friends. Josh smiled at me from across the gym and I couldn’t help but think of the kiss again.