Unexpected information overload. An icy chill spread up my arms and down my spine. My body began to shudder and I hopped around as the willies crawled upon my skin like tiny spiders. Wildly, I brushed my arms to rid myself of the imaginary arachnids.
Sam laughed. He laughed loudly, from his belly.
“I’m glad my doom can bring you amusement.” I looked at him with great annoyance.
He stopped laughing, but his grin remained sharp. He tried to conceal it with a phony itchy-chin cover up. Finally, he just pinched his lips shut.
“Stop it!” I stomped my foot.
“Come on, Miss Emily. Watching your reaction was funny.”
A new bend in life revealed itself to me. “Perhaps I should get comfortable laughing in the face of death.”
“I wouldn’t feel as bad about it if I knew I’d take you to Heaven.” We both shared a forced smile until Sam’s expression turned south. “It was never my intention to put you in harm’s way, but we have to be realistic. This is serious stuff! Loving me could be the ultimate death sentence for you.”
“But this is only a theory. You could be wrong.”
“Do you really want to take the chance?”
A drawn-out exhale gave me time to think. “I think so.”
“We’re talking about Hell. It’s forever.”
“But you’re not sure. Besides, I don’t believe that God would send you or me to Hell!”
“What makes you so sure we’re playing on God’s playground?”
His comments were starting to piss me off. I didn’t want to deal with it anymore. “Then we’ll just have to figure out how to get there.”
A faint smile crossed his lips as his brow relaxed. “You continue to surprise me.” He stepped closer and wrapped one of his muscular arms around me, drawing me in close to his chest.
My taste buds tingled, but this time, fear replaced the pleasure. He must have felt me stiffen, and released me. Grasping his arms, I pulled them back into a hug. “Don’t let go.”
Sam held me warmly in his arms. “You are either very brave, or very foolish, Miss Emily. Which one, is yet to be determined.”
Breathing him in, a tickle of smoke in my throat made me cough. “I am not afraid with you by my side.”
Sam’s hands slipped down my arms until he found mine. “How much bad news can you handle in one day?”
“You mean there’s more? What could be worse than going to Hell?”
“I suppose it's all how you look at it, but I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
“What is it?” I asked.
Sam spied something in the grass and kicked it with his boot.
“Stop stalling.”
“We shouldn’t kiss.”
Chapter Forty-four
EXCUSABLE ADMISSION
THE SOUND of my fluttering eyelids filled the otherwise unnatural silence dangling between Sam’s lips and my own. Images of Zachary Melcomb, Alex Hibbs, my beautiful white dress, and a prom night spent eating popcorn with my parents flashed before my eyes.
The kiss that filled my daytime fantasies and scoured all other waking moments was being denied. Permanently.
I thought of Sam and how perfect he was for me. But no kissing? Ever?
There were many things in life I could deny: after all, I loved denial. But pretending I did not want a beautiful, romantic kiss? This I did not expect. An excruciating desire flared within my flesh.
“It’s only a kiss,” I lied to myself and then to Sam.
He studied my eyes as I spoke. “I’m sorry, Miss Emily, but I don’t see any other way. I reckon that playwright who created A Prelude to a Kiss may have been onto something. The people in that production kissed during the day, remember?”
His words came crushing down on my chest, which was no longer pressed against Sam’s.
He bent down to recapture my attention. “We’ll still have our nights.”
I envisioned the white wispy Sam encircling my body. It had been so intense! I looked at his charming face, and found little consolation.
“Last night was incredible, but I’m not ready for that. I want to start with the basics; you know…first base and sneaking into second—”
“I don’t need a dating manual. Men are pigs, remember?”
I tightened my fists and questioned why life could be so cruel. “This just doesn’t make sense to me. Why are nights safe and daytime kisses outlawed?”
His frame jerked upright. “Work with me, Emily. Remember when we tried to kiss? We sparked. That’s just not normal!”
“Sparked! What does that mean anyway? Is it dangerous?”
Sam’s head tipped to the side. “You didn’t back into a pricker bush, did you.”
Now I was embarrassed and angry. He had known all along what had happened. “How do you know sparking is normal at night?”
He opened his mouth, but then shut it. His eyes darted from side to side, maybe in search of someone holding up cue cards.
“Tell me right now, or I’m leaving.”
His jaw clenched tight. “Fine! Have it your way. Have you ever had a dream that involved groping…you know, making out?”
I nodded. Then blushed.
“That only happens when you are being seduced by a ghost.”
I’m not sure how much time passed before I finally blinked. “Oh. Oh? Oh my—”
“Hey! You asked. But at least now you know why I think nighttime is safe.”
My lips curved in disgust. “Pig! How often do you do that?”
“I never said I did it. I just said I knew about it,” he answered, crossing his arms.
I didn’t know what to think, so I just stood there, looking at him. I finally crossed my arms too. There we were, in some sort of standoff. He looked like he belonged in professional wrestling. I probably looked like a bratty teenager.
Contemplating my choices, and staring at his hugeness, my frustration began to melt. And maybe I was being judgmental. My image of angry wrestler transformed into the Grumpy Bunny, and a smile snuck upon my face.
“Do we at least get to hold hands?” I offered him mine.
He remained still.
“I’m sorry.” I reached for his hand and unhooked it from his other arm, breaking the lock. Bringing his hand to my lips, I gave it a small kiss and looked into the deep brown eyes that I adored so much. I was quickly reminded that I loved him, and that nothing could change that; time had come to put on my big-girl-panties.
“I suppose that wouldn’t be so bad,” he said, interlocking his fingers with mine. “In fact, they fit together quite nicely, don’t they?” He raised his hand, bringing mine along for a brief visual inspection.
“Perfectly,” I said. “All that kissing is probably overrated, anyway.”
He returned the affection with a smooch on the back of my hand. “Well then, I think it’s about time for a little fun, don’t you?”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“Care to do a little gardening? Or, it’d only take a few seconds for me to fix up the place if you’d like to take a tour.”
The house sat quietly, without paint or dignity. It was easy to tell where the barn had been. Daisies topped the mound. For all I knew, Sam’s ashes could be under them too. “Not today.”
He gave me a quizzical look. “Are you afraid of it?”
“Mmm, not afraid.” I couldn’t put my finger on it, but somehow my feelings had changed about the house. “How about we pay Lucy a visit.”
“Splendid idea,” Sam agreed. “She might even have some pups.”
Hand in hand, we started off through the open field, heading in the direction of the fox den. The summer sun felt warm against my face; a wild turkey strutted off in the distance. Sam started chatting about the healing properties of a plant, and my insides tickled with happiness because I was the luckiest girl on Earth. And I was in love.
“Hey!” I said, stopping abruptly. “I had a dream about you last night. You were about
to kiss me!”
Sam laughed and pulled me along. “Well, there always has to be a first time.”
A GIFT FOR EMILY
Book Two in the Emily Stokes Series
Chapter One
CASUAL CONVERSATION
SAM ONCE TOLD ME that the Grim Reaper was the most frightening thing he’d ever seen. I’d liked to have asked him if that was because the creature was truly scary or because its intent was to take Sam to Hell. I decided against asking, figuring my own morbid curiosity wasn’t that important.
There were definite drawbacks to dating someone like Sam. Being seventeen and in love, the “no kissing” rule seemed be the worst part. At least for me. And of course I still wanted my romantic kiss. What girl wouldn’t? Determined not to be denied, I became bent on finding some kind of solution.
“What was that word again?” I asked.
“What word?” Sam returned.
“You know, that word. Transitori…”
“Transmigration? Why are you asking about that?”
“Would you still look like you?”
My little sister, Kat, was busy feeding the ducks that had made their summer home here at the local pond while I appeared to be a crazy person sitting on a picnic blanket talking to myself. Sam never materialized when we went into public, even in our little town of Silver Lake, Kansas.
“I don’t think so, Miss Emily,” Sam’s voice answered my question.
“I’d prefer it if you would still look like you. Call me shallow, but at least I’m honest.” He didn’t give me a reply and after further thought, I had more questions. “Do you think you could inhibit a recently dead body, or would you have to steal it from somebody?”
“Such creepy words from such a beautiful mouth.”
I dropped my head in embarrassment. “Haven’t you ever thought about it?”
“More lately, I reckon. I’d feel less guilty about taking a dead body, but at the same time, I wouldn’t want to get myself into a worse predicament. I’m not sure I’d heal up from what the person died from,” he answered.
“I bet it would be a fresh start. Just like new.”
A noticeable draft chilled my skin despite the heated air temperature. It was Sam, moving to the other side of the blanket. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up for a glorious resurrection if I were you,” he said.
“What if you turned into a zombie!”
An exasperated huff filled the air. “You watch too many movies.”
“Hey! Maybe you are forgetting that I am having a conversation with a dead person?” Immediately, I looked around for anybody who could have heard me.
In all actuality, I wasn’t worried. No one from town seemed to notice the path we cleared in the underbrush to gain access to the tiny lake. But this was good. It gave Sam and me another place to be.
“Emmy!” Kat called from knee-deep water. “Look at the babies! Aren’t they adorable?” My little sister was obsessed with anything baby. I waved and gave her a spirited thumbs up. Satisfied by my acknowledgement, she resumed her own quacking, taking part in some sort of cross-species dialogue while tearing off another piece of bread and tossing it into the feathery huddle.
Subtle movement beside me brought my attention back to Sam. Pieces of cracked corn began magically arranging themselves on the blanket. A thin row of kernels progressed into an arch, angling down, then sharply going back up, forming a V at the bottom. A smile spread across my face as another arch joined the first one. The heart was now complete.
The taste of smoke settled on my tongue as his breath tickled my ear. “How about if I steal Taylor Lautner’s body?”
Swatting the air, I asked, “How do you know about Taylor Lautner?”
Kitty heard my question and looked up. “Are we going to a movie?”
“No. And mind your own business,” I called out. Rubbing my chin in exaggerated thought, I mulled over the offer. “I suppose that wouldn’t be so bad. Gorgeous and famous.”
“You weren’t supposed to be that excited.” Sam said dryly.
Flopping back on the plaid blanket, I looked up into the cloudless blue sky. “I really just want you.” I turned my head to the side, wanting to see him next to me. I heard his voice instead.
“As long as we’re on the subject, I also think the donor—”
“Donor?” I echoed. “And you called me creepy.”
“I thought it sounded a little less…something…no? At any rate, the deceased should have a good moral background. It would be atrocious get into another body and then be wanted for past crimes.”
I sat up on my elbows. “Atrocious. I haven’t heard that word for years.”
“It means terrible.”
“I know that.” Ignoring the need to defend my vocabulary, I plunged forward. “There’s just so much to think about. We’d probably have to relocate.”
“Not if I found the body in a different city.” Sam added.
The body.
The body?
I repeated these two words in my head several more times using different tones, yet each time, arriving at the same mental picture: dead body, cadaver, zombie, Frankenstein. “I think you should steal it.”
“Stop your fretting, Miss Emily.”
Just then, Kat walked up to the edge of the blanket with the empty plastic bread wrapper clutched in her hand, saving me from mental anguish of dating a rotting zombie.
“They ate it all?” Sam’s voice asked in sudden up-beat manner.
“Every last crumb.” She turned the bag inside out and let the bread-dust scatter.
“I guess this means we’re ready to go.” I stood and shook the debris from the blanket.
“We’ll get back just in time for you to start feeding all the critters at home,” Sam added.
“This has been the best summer vacation ever!” Kat cheered as she took off up the path, holding the plastic bag above her head like a miniature kite.
“She wears me out, just watching her,” I said, thinking Sam was still nearby. At least until I heard a “Gotcha!” followed by a scream, and a “No fair! That’s cheating,” and finally cries of mercy because it was impossible to ward off ghost-tickles otherwise.
Without further delays, an invisible Sam rode shotgun while Kitty was forced to sit in the back of my little green and blue VW Love bug. The two exchanged cheesy g-rated jokes, allowing me to calculate the assumed benefits of stealing a healthy body versus one in need of medical attention, or altogether dead. Then the notion hit me like a flat iron: that this entire idea was completely deranged. Twisted. Gross.
But I couldn’t let it go. There had to be something we could do.
Before I even had the drive shift pushed into park, Kitty was scrambling into the passenger front seat to get out.
“Look out for Sam!” I scolded.
“Sorry!” she yelled as she slammed the door closed and ran for the garage. It was already past feeding time.
As I watched her run, something else caught my eye in the passenger seat. No doubt, it was Sam assuming human form.
“She’s a good kid,” he said.
I took a moment to feast upon his good looks before answering. “It was nice of you to collect the animals and bring them home to her.”
Since it was my summer job to look after my sister while our parents were at work, Sam was wise to occupy Kat with a brood of her very own. While the living slept, Sam combed the dark forest and grasslands rescuing small abandoned animals that would have surely died without a maternal figure. Now wherever Kat went, she was followed by an entourage of young orphaned woodland creatures: a small black and white skunk, a little furry raccoon wearing her painted black mask, and a brazenly tough white and gray feral kitty who enjoyed pinning the less agile animals in a game of roughhouse. There was also a red-tailed fox, not yet weaned, that still lived in a box inside the garage.
It always made me smile to see the little critters follow their unusual mother in single-file around the confines of the mowed
lawn.
“It’ll be sad to see them go,” I murmured, taking the keys out of the ignition.
“What are you talking about? They ain’t leaving,” Sam said.
“What do you mean?”
It was a mischievous grin. “They’ll never leave. This is their home.”
“Seriously?”A nervous laugh snuck out, probably because I knew how my father felt about pets. “You’re lucky my dad likes you.”
His large frame shook with a chuckle. “Until the raccoon starts chewing holes in the patio screen door to get in.”
“In that case, you’re lucky you’re already dead.”
***
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A Kiss for Emily (Emily Stokes Series) Page 26