“Come with me.” He took her hand and led her to a gazebo near the back fence. A thick magnolia tree stood between the small structure and the house, blocking them from his mom’s curious view. He stepped into the gazebo, but Emily hung back, taking in the scenery.
“This is cute. It’s—oh!” She stumbled over the step and fell into him, her hands landing flat against his chest.
He caught her around the waist and grinned as she looked up at him. “I think that’s the fourth time you’ve thrown yourself into my arms now. Are you trying to tell me something?”
“I did not throw myself.” She smoothed the wrinkles out of his shirt, but she didn’t pull from his embrace. “I missed the step.”
“And you aren’t usually clumsy?”
“No.”
“Hmm…” With his arms around her waist, he pulled her deeper into the shade of the gazebo.
Her light blue eyes were almost the same color as the sky, and a glint of mischief sparked in her gaze as she focused on his lips and slipped her tongue out to moisten her own. A tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “What ‘hmm’?”
“You’re shorter than I remember.” Why was he stalling? She’d agreed to kiss him. All he had to do was press his lips to hers. His nerves were getting the better of him. She was obviously interested, or she wouldn’t still be standing here in his arms.
“Patent leather high heels aren’t exactly practical when I’m on my feet all day.” She ran her hands up his chest and rested them near his neck. Definitely interested.
“Maybe not practical, but they were damn sexy.”
“You’re not blond. I don’t wear three-inch heels all the time. It seems we’ve done nothing but disappoint each other today.”
“Oh, I’m not disappointed, sweetheart. You could make a muumuu look sexy.”
“You think so?”
“I do.”
She snaked her hands behind his neck. “Are we going to stand here talking all day, or are you going to kiss me?”
That was all the invitation he needed. He took her mouth with his, and she parted her velvet lips with a gasp. His tongue brushed hers, and his body burned. She was sweet and soft, and she melted into his arms like she was made to be there.
She slid her hands up and down his neck, gliding them across his shoulders and down to squeeze his biceps. Piercing pain ripped through his arm, and he instinctively jerked away.
“Careful with the stitches.” He cradled his injured arm in his hand, silently berating himself for being such a wuss. Damn, he was enjoying kissing her.
“I am so sorry.” Her lips were swollen from the kiss, and he wanted nothing more than to feel them against his skin again.
“I’m fine.” He rotated his shoulder to ease the pain.
“Let me make sure I didn’t pop a suture.” She lifted his sleeve and peeled the bandage away from the wound. She brushed her fingers over the incision and pressed the bandage to his skin. “It looks good. Healing fast.”
“I don’t know. I think you might need to kiss it and make it better.”
A seductive smile lit on her lips. “Are you sure that’s where you want my lips? On your boo boo?”
“Hmm…no. But I do think I need a do-over on that kiss. It ended entirely too soon.”
She slid her hands behind his neck and pressed her body to his. “I promise I’ll be more careful this time.”
The feel of her soft curves against him, her tongue tangling with his, had him hardened with need. She must have felt his arousal, because she pressed into him, sliding her hands into his hair. Good lord, this woman was hot.
“Soup’s on, kids,” his mom called from the porch, and he groaned inwardly. She really needed to work on her timing.
He cupped Emily’s face in his hands and ran his thumb across her swollen lips. “Dinner?”
“I’m free Wednesday.”
“Wednesday works for me. We better get inside before my mom comes looking for us.” He took her hand and led her out of the gazebo.
She hesitated on the step, biting her lip and furrowing her brow.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t normally do this sort of thing. I don’t want you to think poorly of me.”
“What sort of thing?”
“Sneak into gazebos and make out with men I hardly know.”
“Hey.” He pulled her into a hug. “I don’t think poorly of you. And for the record, I don’t normally do this sort of thing either. You’re the only person who has this effect on me.” He rubbed her arms and laced his fingers through hers.
Emily was quiet. Practical. Reserved. But she had an adventurous side, and the fact that she was letting him experience that part of her had him aching to pull her back into that gazebo to explore some more.
“Sean?” His mom called again.
“Coming.” He sighed and looked at Emily. “Are you hungry?”
She smiled. “Starving.”
As they entered the kitchen, his mom eyed their entwined hands and flashed him her classic “I told you so” look. “Did you enjoy the garden, Emily?”
An adorable blush spread across her cheeks, and she glanced at him before speaking. “It’s a lovely garden. I especially like the gazebo.”
Madeline made her famous Quiche Lorraine, and Emily scarfed down every bit she was served. She wasn’t kidding when she said she was starving. She took seconds on the cinnamon rolls, and she looked like she was considering thirds when a thunk sounded from the foyer.
“I wonder what that was?” His mom looked at him. Of course she wanted him to investigate.
He reached under the table and gave Emily’s hand a squeeze. “Be right back.”
His high school senior portrait lay face down on the foyer floor. Unfortunately, the glass didn’t break, so he had no reason to throw the god-awful photograph away. As he hung the frame on the wall, the air temperature in the small room seemed to drop ten degrees, and goose bumps rose on his arms.
He scanned the area, but no spirits showed themselves to him. He was still blocking the blonde ghost, but it was possible she’d followed him here. If she was able to knock a picture from the wall, she had more energy than he’d thought. But he wasn’t about to let a dead woman interrupt his life. He’d learned to control his gift years ago, and only he decided which spirits to communicate with.
He shuffled into the dining room, and both women looked at him expectantly. “Picture fell off the wall. I put it back.”
“Is Lenore being mischievous again?” his mom asked.
Emily shifted in her seat and gazed at her plate. The subject of spirits was a touchy one with her, and he wasn’t sure why. Most nonbelievers would laugh off a comment like that, or if they were assholes, they’d scoff and make a rude retort. Emily’s reaction puzzled him. It was something more than nonbelief, and he intended to figure out her problem with ghosts. Eventually.
“I think it came loose. Probably from the door opening and closing over time. The draft or something.” He wasn’t about to explain that Lenore had been sitting in the chair across from him the entire time.
The tension in Emily’s shoulders eased, and she raised her head. He took her hand under the table, lacing his fingers through hers. There was definitely something more to the ghost issue than an analytical mind.
They finished brunch, and when it was time for Emily to leave, he walked her to the white Prius she’d parked along the street. A practical car for a practical woman. It suited her.
He stopped by the driver’s side door and faced her. “I knew I could get you to go out with me if you kissed me again.”
She leaned against the car, a playful smile curving her lips. “I didn’t need to kiss you to know I wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make you work for it.”
“Well, you let me know if there’s any more work you need done. I’m happy to oblige.” He leaned in to take her mouth, but she pressed her index finger against his lips.
“Don’t p
ress your luck.”
He laughed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Dinner Wednesday?”
“Just dinner.”
“Text me your address. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Okay.” Her eyes held his like she wanted to say something else. Then her gaze slid down to his lips and lingered there. She wanted to kiss him. The magnetic energy dancing between them pulled him toward her, but he fought it. He wasn’t going to get shot down again. And if she wanted to play hard to get, he’d let her. The heated look in her eyes told him she’d felt every bit of the excitement exploding inside that gazebo this morning.
He cupped her cheek in his hand and ran his thumb over her smooth, porcelain skin. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes.
“Have a nice day, Emily. I’ll see you Wednesday.”
Chapter Eight
Emily stared at the calendar on the wall, focusing on the square for Wednesday, the day of her date with Sean. The anticipation of seeing him again had twisted a knot in her stomach so tight she could hardly eat her breakfast. Between him and her sister’s stupid box she still couldn’t get open, her thoughts had been a whirlwind of anxiety.
Trish had the nerve to tell her she was getting obsessed with the box. She kept suggesting she take it to a Voodoo shop to have it checked out. It was a ridiculous notion, and if Robert would hurry up and send her the key, she could prove it. Though she doubted any kind of evil was trapped inside the box, maybe she wasn’t meant to open it. Maybe she shouldn’t try.
“Am I going to survive?” The patient’s voice snapped her back to reality. Mr. Armstrong was pushing ninety, and his daughter rolled her eyes and helped him into his wheelchair.
“You drink half a bottle of brandy every night, Dad. Swallowing two ounces of mouth wash isn’t going to hurt you.”
Emily handed the paperwork to his daughter. “You might experience some nausea, but you’ll be fine. Just remember to spit next time, okay?”
“Sorry to waste your time.” His daughter pushed him to the door. “Again.”
“No problem.”
As soon as the patient left the room, she fished her phone from her pocket and sent a text to Robert. Hopefully he hadn’t forgotten about the key.
She glanced at the clock. One-thirty. If she was going to take advantage of the two o’clock lull, she needed to order lunch soon. She opened the breakroom door and found Becca touching up her makeup.
“I’m going to order lunch. Want anything?”
Becca shoved her makeup bag into her purse. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to meet Andy next door. I’ll keep my phone on me in case things get busy.”
“No problem. It’s been a slow day.” She headed to the front desk and leaned against the counter.
Trish minimized the window she was browsing the web with and spun around to greet her. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”
“No. I was going to order something for lunch. Do you want anything?”
“Actually.” She glanced toward the door. “I, uh…already ordered you something.”
“What did you order?”
“It’s, umm…” She picked up a pen and tapped it on the counter. “It’s a surprise? I mean, you bought lunch last time, so I thought I’d take care of it today.”
She eyed her friend. Trish wasn’t a nervous person, but the way her leg bounced up and down, she seemed like she wanted to bolt for the door. What was she up to?
“Bye, ladies. See you in a bit.” Becca pranced out the door.
Emily crossed her arms and looked at Trish. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Trish’s eyes held all the guilt of a kid with her hand stuck in a cookie jar.
Emily’s phone buzzed in her pocket, and she yanked it out to check the screen. Robert hadn’t taken long at all to respond. She typed in her unlock code, and her heart sank. The text wasn’t from Robert, it was from her cheating ex, Phillip.
I miss you. Can we talk?
She shuddered at the thought of talking to that creep again. She typed in her response: Not a chance, and hit send. The moment she walked in on his naked secretary straddling him in their bed, it was over. She didn’t do second chances.
When the front door chimed, she shoved the phone into her pocket and looked up to greet the new patient. Sean walked through the door carrying a paper bag and a tray of to-go cups. He wore jeans and a dark blue, long-sleeve button-up shirt, and his dark hair was tousled from the wind. Her heart did this weird thud…thud-thud-thud thing, and she nearly tripped over her own feet as she rushed around the counter.
“Sean. What are you doing here?”
His smile could’ve lit an entire city block. “I heard you ladies might be hungry.” He set the food and drinks on the counter and turned to her. “And I missed you.” He cast a glance at Trish. “Did I time it right?”
She grinned. “Perfectly.”
He reached in the bag, pulled out a sandwich wrapped in wax paper, and handed it to Trish. “Meatballs, extra sauce, and sweet tea.”
She batted her lashes and widened her grin. “Perfect. Thank you.”
“Thank you for the advice.”
Was her best friend fawning over her man? Heat flushed her cheeks. He wasn’t hers yet, and she needed to remember that. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to get him alone. “Do you want to come back?” She gestured to the door leading out of the waiting area.
“Only if there won’t be any needles involved this time. My ass is still sore.”
Trish giggled.
Emily glared at her friend, grabbed the bag, and pushed open the door. “No needles. I promise.”
He picked up the Styrofoam cup and followed her into the break room.
She took a deep breath to slow her sprinting heart. This was the fifth time she’d seen him. She’d made out with him twice. There was no reason to turn into a babbling idiot again. He obviously liked her, or he wouldn’t be here.
She opened the bag and pulled out the contents. “There’s only one. Aren’t you eating?”
“I can’t stay. I’ve got work to do. I just didn’t want to wait until Wednesday to see you again.”
She set the sandwich on the table next to the cup and stepped closer to him. Electricity seemed to sizzle between them, and she couldn’t help but inch nearer. “This was sweet. Thank you.”
“Tell me if I’m being too forward. I don’t want to scare you away.” He closed what little distance remained between them, until they stood toe to toe.
Her breathing grew shallow. Was she afraid? If she stopped to think about it, she’d be scared to death. Her feelings for Sean were frighteningly intense for the short amount of time she’d known him. And then there was the ghost issue. But being near him felt so damn good, she wadded up her fear into a little ball and stuffed it into the back of her mind. She could deal with it later. Right now, the sexiest man she’d ever met had brought her lunch, and she wanted to show her appreciation.
“I’m not scared.” She laced her fingers through his and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “I missed you too.”
“Good.” He cleared his throat as if he were nervous. “Because it’s been a long time since I’ve dated anyone, and I’m not familiar with all the rules.”
“I’m not sure the rules apply in this case.”
He grasped her other hand and brought her fingers to his lips. “I like you, Emily. A lot.”
“I know.” She felt like she’d been shot in the chest with a confetti cannon. His actions proved he liked her, but hearing him say the words sent her heart into overdrive. “I like you too, Sean. A lot.”
“Would it be wrong for me to kiss you while you’re working?”
“I think a little one would be okay.” She linked her fingers behind his neck and pressed her lips to his.
He let out a satisfied “Mmm…” that weakened her knees, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.
She pulled away before the sparks he ignited inside her burned the buildi
ng down. “What did you bring me?”
“Trish told me you like olives, so I got you a muffuletta.”
“I love olives. What’s a muffuletta?”
He balked. “Are you serious? How long have you lived here?”
“Three months.”
“You haven’t lived until you’ve had a muffuletta from Serio’s. Have you seen that show Throwdown with Bobby Flay?”
“The cooking show?”
“Yeah. The owner went up against Bobby to make the best muffuletta.”
“So he was on TV?”
“Yeah. And he beat Bobby Flay.”
She eyed the sandwich. “Impressive.”
“Try it.”
“Right now?”
“Just take a bite. Then I’ll go.”
She slid her hands up his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her waist again. They fit together so easily, it felt like she’d known him forever.
But the ghosts.
The tiny ball of fear in the back of her mind tried to unravel itself, but she squashed it down. “And if I don’t, you’ll stay?”
“I would love to, but I have to get back to work. Just one bite? So you can tell me what you think?”
She sighed. “Okay.” She unwrapped the sandwich and weighed it in her hands. It was heavy, with thick Italian bread surrounding three types of meat, cheese, and a chopped olive salad. The first bite was like a flavor explosion in her mouth. Ham, salami, and mortadella blended perfectly with provolone cheese, and the tangy zip of olives had her mouth watering for more.
His gaze never left her eyes as she chewed and swallowed the delicious treat. He looked at her expectantly. “And?”
She set the sandwich on the table and wiped her mouth on a napkin. “Where have you been all my life?”
He chuckled. “Me? Or the sandwich?”
“Both. It’s delicious. And you’re pretty tasty too.”
His mouth quirked into a crooked grin. “I’m glad you like us.”
The front door chimed, and she sighed. “That’ll be a patient.”
“You better eat fast then. I’ll show myself out.”
“Thank you for coming.”
“My pleasure. I’ll see you Wednesday.” He slipped out the door, and she took another bite of the sandwich. Then, she braced herself for the onslaught of sweetness and sipped the tea he’d brought her. To her surprise, the drink was unsweetened, just the way she liked it. He must’ve drilled Trish with questions to figure out what to bring and the perfect time to arrive.
Love & Ghosts: Crescent City Ghost Tours Page 10