by Bryn Donovan
Late in the afternoon, the apartment manager led Nicole into the snug living room. “You get great light in here,” she said, pointing to the large windows. “And your own fireplace.”
“You probably don’t use fireplaces too much in Savannah.” Nicole winced at her own cynical tone. It wasn’t like her. Besides, just because she was in a foul mood didn’t mean she needed to spread it around.
“Oh, it gets chilly in the winter,” the woman countered. “And a lot of people love having a mantel for decorating.”
Nicole stiffened. The crystal.
She’d left it behind on Francie’s mantel. Had Aaron realized she’d forgotten it? Or worse, did he think she had left it behind on purpose?
Regret coiled inside her. His buying it for her had been such a kind, impulsive gesture. No, a romantic gesture. Oh my God, I’m such a jerk. As if she hadn’t felt bad enough for disappearing on him.
The apartment manager said, “I forgot to mention, there’s one reserved parking space. You’re just looking to rent by yourself, right?”
“That’s right.” She was alone.
Maybe Aaron would have been different from her past boyfriends. He was funny and caring, not to mention good-looking. In the face of scary ghosts, he was surprisingly calm—and that was something one didn’t usually learn about a person right away.
He was quite possibly the best guy who’d ever been interested in her. But she was alone, because other relationships had messed her up so much that when the right person came along, she couldn’t even deal with it.
Was that being strong and independent? Was that moving on? Hardly.
The apartment manager looked over her shoulder at where Nicole stood staring at nothing in the middle of the living room. “Did you have another question?”
“What? No.” Nicole followed her to the kitchen doorway.
“The stove is new,” the woman said. Nicole flashed back to her dream. Polly Shepps making fried chicken, and the terrible scene after that. Was there some other way Aaron and Nicole could have convinced her to leave her pain behind?
Oh, God. It hit her. She already knew that Polly Shepps had somehow tied herself to Nicole’s feelings. The ghost couldn’t move on because Nicole couldn’t, even though she’d told herself otherwise.
She had to tell Polly that she might still be able to trust men—starting with Aaron. True, Nicole’s past hurts were nothing compared to Polly’s, but Polly had several decades and another dimension between her and her brutal tragedy of a marriage. She could let go of her pain, too.
“I’m sorry.” Nicole interrupted the woman. “I have to go.”
CHAPTER TEN
There on Francie’s mantel, the crystal geode glittered, right where Nicole had left it. She strode over and picked it up.
On Facebook, she’d sent Aaron a message: I’m going to try talking to Polly again. I’m on my way over. For a solid minute before hitting the return key, she’d tried to think of something else to add—just something about how she was sorry she’d run away, and she didn’t like being away from him, because as far as she could tell, he was practically perfect.
She couldn’t come up with a casual way to express all that. She hadn’t seen a light on in his place, or she would have knocked on his door. Probably he was working.
It was just as well. She could talk to Polly first. And if she succeeded, she could stop by Aaron’s later and say something like, Hey, so I got rid of that ghost. Want to get some breakfast?
Of course, there was the possibility that Polly would pull some kind of stunt again. Nicole’s nerves were on high alert, but she was ready to face the ghost. So far, all Polly Shepps had were creepy special effects. Nicole marched through the dining room and out the back door.
The flashlight and the matches still lay next to the circle of black candles, all askew. It was like returning to the scene of a botched crime, but she was doing something good, and she’d try to get it right this time.
Now that she thought of it, Nicole wasn’t sure she even needed the candles. Polly Shepps certainly had no trouble barging into her life without them. Nicole set the crystal down next to the candles and lit them, anyway. Once they all flickered and glowed, she opened her mouth to do the Polly Shepps, I summon you thing.
Wait. First she should figure out exactly what she was going to tell the ghost, about Aaron and truly moving on. Nicole sat down on the garden bench.
A creak made her jump. She looked up to see Aaron coming through the garden gate.
In a plain white tee shirt and jeans, he looked as beautiful as she’d ever seen him. He glanced down at the ring of candles and gave her a wry look as he walked over to her. “You started without me?”
“I didn’t call on her yet. I’m sorry I ran off like that.” She reached up and touched his arm awkwardly. She wanted to hug him and press herself tight against his chest. But after her past behavior, she didn’t think she had the right to grab him.
“It’s all right,” he said. “You were scared.”
“And not just of the ghost,” she admitted as he joined her on the garden bench. She took a deep breath. “Aaron, I was being stupid. I had this idea of coming here and being all independent and on my own...and the idea of seeing someone else right away freaked me out.”
“You thought I might be just like your ex. I guess I didn’t make a good enough impression yet.”
“No, it wasn’t even you!” she protested. “You were perfect.”
Aaron gave her a dubious sidelong look. “We both know that’s not true.”
“No, really. And I mean, I totally didn’t expect my ex to break up with me. And it was the same with the guy before. It got me thinking that I’m just—not someone people want to commit to, you know? Not the kind of person guys fall in love with.”
Aaron opened his mouth as though he were about to say something, and then clamped it shut again. A muscle in his jaw jumped. Oh, God, now she’d annoyed him too, thoroughly proving her point. “I’m sorry, that was really pathetic. But I’ll tell the ghost that I’m going to forget the past—”
“Wait.” His gaze bored into her. “Nicole, listen to me. You’re smart, you’re fun. I somehow want to tell you things I never tell anybody, and you’re completely understanding. You have the prettiest blue eyes I’ve ever seen in my life, not to mention an ass that could stop traffic—sorry, but it’s the truth. And when you sing, you sound like an angel.” He shoved an agitated hand through his hair. “I’ve gotten nothing but mixed signals from you, but come on. You are exactly the kind of girl people fall in love with.”
Nicole’s throat tightened. This was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her, and she didn’t even know what to say in return. She pulled him to her and kissed him.
His body jolted as if in surprise. Then he poured himself into her, one strong arm wrapping around her shoulders and drawing her close against him they kissed. The fingertips of his right hand feathered across her cheek, sending little tingles of sensation down her body. She moaned.
He broke off the kiss, buried a hand into her hair, and urged her head to the side, exposing her neck. The stubble of his beard abraded her tender flesh as he kissed her there, right where her pulse slammed. Her breath came fast and shallow. He nipped her beneath her jaw and traced a path of kisses to the hollow of her throat.
Nicole wiggled out of her denim jacket, the sleeveless floral dress beneath baring her arms and décolletage to the mild night air and his desires. Responding immediately, he cupped her breast through the dress, lifting it against his ravenous mouth.
It was nowhere near enough. Heat flushed through her whole body and she ached for his full attention. She drew back long enough to unzip the back of the dress, yank it down to her waist, and take off her white padded bra, tossing it on the bench behind her.
Too late, insecurity cut through her desire. What was she doing?
She’d always been shy about her small breasts and her hips that were too wide in comparison. The moon shone too brightly.
Bright enough that she could see Aaron’s exact expression of wonder as he gazed at her, mouth parted. “Sweet Jesus.” His low voice was Southern as bourbon, and more intoxicating. “You’re so beautiful.”
Heat blossomed deep within her at the praise. He drew her close and almost reverently brushed his mouth across the hard peak of one breast. The rough pad of his thumb swiped across the other. She arched against him, begging for more pressure.
Obedient, demanding, he gripped her shoulder and suckled at one breast and pinched the other nipple hard, sending a shock of pleasure through her that tore a small cry from her lips. Her insides turned to hot, sweet honey. God, she needed this—and not just from anyone. She needed him.
He lowered his head to suck and taste her again. At the same time, he reached down and pulled up the hem of her dress. He insinuated his hand between her thighs, coaxing them apart.
Oh, God. He cupped her through the thin cotton of her bikini underwear. She’d soaked through it, and he made a low growl in the back of his throat at this discovery.
Suddenly every part of her body and soul wanted to please him, however he wanted, wherever he wanted. But she could hardly make a move. He thrust aside the flimsy barrier of her panties and settled his hand instinctively at her most sensitive place, his fingers establishing a rhythm that elicited a whimper from her lips.
He kissed her again and swept into her mouth, opening it beneath his. His male taste and the smell of his body, like mysterious woods and soap and dusk, overwhelmed her senses.
She trusted him. And even if things didn’t work out, she trusted herself to be all right regardless. Yes. She could be strong and independent, and still enamored with this man, who at the moment was single-mindedly and single-handedly driving her to new heights of pleasure.
God, she was close, and what was left of her consciousness begged him not to stop. He didn’t, although when he ended the kiss she made a small noise of complaint.
“Nicole, look at me,” he commanded.
She opened her eyes, unable to deny him, though she was about to come apart. His face was close to hers, his gaze locked with hers, unwavering and filled with lust and devotion. “You’re with me.” His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. “No one else. Me.”
Nicole understood. The fact that other guys had hurt her didn’t matter here. Breathless, she nodded, and then her orgasm crashed over her. Her eyes closed again. “Aaron!”
She was so glorious in her pleasure that Aaron thought he would lose his mind. He’d wanted to bring her to climax so badly that it almost reverberated through his own body, and hearing his name on her lips sent a surge of male satisfaction through him, even as it ratcheted up his own need. She allowed her head to loll onto his shoulder, gasping, “Oh, God.”
“So beautiful,” he murmured, supporting her. Suddenly logic and rational thought returned to him.
She was half naked, her dress pooled around her waist, outdoors where any neighbor might see. He should have thought of this sooner. The sight of her body, bathed in the moonlight, had struck him with awe. It was like encountering a work of art, but with life and warmth pulsing beneath the beauty.
Desire had slammed through him, demanding to be inside her. He’d put it in merciless check to serve her needs first, but it still clamored for satisfaction.
They’d need a condom. He could take her back to his house. But wait, he had one! He’d tucked it into his wallet, absolutely unrealistically, before the bike ride the other day.
She kissed him again and slid her warm hands under the bottom of his tee shirt, stroking his sides and belly in a way that threatened his control. As she ran her hands everywhere, she literally purred. Every nerve and fiber of Aaron’s being strained toward her. She reached for his fly, and about the last thing he wanted was to prevent her from doing whatever it was she planned to do.
At least he tried. “Hey. We should go inside.” He intended to gently stop her from unbuttoning his jeans, but somehow his hand got distracted, caressing the delicate outer curve of her lovely breast again. Although he was sitting on the very edge of the bench, it seemed almost impossible to stand up and move.
“You said no one’s ever around,” she breathed. True. He had said that. She unzipped his fly and dipped a hand inside, stroking his hard aching cock through his boxer briefs. Aaron couldn’t prevent the grunt that escaped from him, which seemed to encourage her.
The next thing he knew, she was crouching down between his knees and easing the waistband of his underwear down. She wrapped her hand around his shaft and teased the head with a devastating twirl of her tongue.
“No.” Panting, he reached down to cup her cheek. “You do that, I’m going to lose it.”
“Go ahead.” She looked up at him with a mischievous, delighted smile. Jesus. He’d never seen anything so sexy.
But he didn’t want it that way, not this time at least...and he prayed there would be many more times. Shaking his head, he dug for his wallet. “I want to be inside you.”
The blunt words didn’t express all he really wanted: to join with her, a complete union and consummation. Or maybe they did, because he couldn’t keep the longing out of his voice. He found the foil packet of the condom.
“Let me,” Nicole said, taking it from him and opening it. As if on impulse, she ran her tongue up his engorged cock, making him groan, before sheathing him.
He got on his knees on the ground, urging her to lie on her back on the grass, and stripped off her drenched panties—too rough, but she only gave a soft laugh. He shoved his jeans further down his hips and she shifted to welcome him as he settled his body over hers. Her hands rested on his bare shoulders as he kissed her again, soul-deep.
Something told him that this unceremonious and not completely graceful encounter might be one of the most important in his life. It was too early to say he was falling in love—wasn’t it? But he didn’t know what to call the feeling that both elated and humbled him.
Nicole reached down and gripped him, guiding him to her entrance. He pushed in slowly, sucking in a breath at the sensation. She moaned and writhed beneath him. “God, you feel good.”
The motion and the huskiness in her sweet voice destroyed his last bit of control. He stroked into her deep and hard, running his hand over the hair that spilled out all around her on the sweet grass and clover, then dragging his thumb along the inside of her lower lip that was plump and red from kissing. She let out a soft, high cry.
Ah, he wanted more of that from her, to match the wild pleasure rising in him. He kissed and bit the side of her neck again. Reaching down to where they were joined, he brushed his fingertips across her clit, and she bucked. “Yes! Please...” Another caress, and she tightened around him. “Oh, God!”
He slammed into her, a half dozen strokes, before his climax crashed over him with the force of a summer storm. He bowed his head over her, utterly spent.
“You’re amazing,” she said, and stroked the side of his cheek.
He turned his head and press his lips against her palm. “Ah sweetheart. You’re the amazing one.”
He withdrew from her and got up long enough to deposit the condom in the bin near the back door, zipping up his fly as he walked. When he returned to her, she was sitting up on the ground. She’d zipped up her dress again so that she was more or less covered up, which was for the best, although Aaron couldn’t be completely glad of it. He got down on his knees beside her and kissed her on the cheek.
She smiled at the innocent gesture. With her sparkling eyes, she looked as happy and contented as Aaron had ever seen her, and it made his heart soar. He couldn’t remember when he’d felt so good himself.
Nicole looked around them. “It smells amazing out here right now! Don’t you thi
nk?”
The sweet scents of camellias and roses mingled, so strongly they might have been in a summer greenhouse packed with thousands of blooms. Lovely, but not normal. “What the hell.”
Nicole gripped his arm. “She’s here.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nicole watched as tendrils of mist from different corners gathered into the center of the garden. Aaron stood up in front of her, his feet planted wide. She got up to stand beside him.
Aaron’s expression was controlled, attentive. “Polly Shepps.”
The ghost took form, her same housedress, her same pale marcelled hair...but now it framed her face in perfect symmetry.
Nicole gasped. “Your head.”
Polly Shepps raised her hand to the side of her head and touched it, finding no damage, no gore. Her rosebud mouth fell open, and she looked from Aaron to Nicole. Aaron took Nicole’s hand.
Nicole said, “I couldn’t hang on to my hurt. You can’t, either.”
The ghost looked around the garden, thick with fragrance, and nodded. Why wasn’t she talking? She appeared sheerer. Before, she’d been almost solid.
“She’s letting go,” Aaron murmured.
He was right. Of course she was...because Nicole had. Or maybe because they both had.
“You should move on,” Nicole said. “You deserve to have some fun.” As soon as the words left her lips, she realized she meant them with all of her heart.
Polly Shepps smiled. Now that her head wasn’t bashed in and she wasn’t consumed with sadness and rage, she was a lovely woman, and still very young.
The ghost walked toward the garden gate. She hummed to herself—the melody of the song she sang in the dream, the beautiful love song. Every hair on Nicole’s body stood up at the sound.
And then she disappeared.
Nicole clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God.”
Aaron wrapped his arms around her. She stared up at him. “Is she gone? I mean gone gone?”
He lifted his head. “Polly Shepps, I’m going to count to ten. Give us a sign that you’re moving on. One...two...”