Chef's Delight (Stories of Serendipity)

by Anne Conley

  Still kissing, their tongues were thrusting into each other’s mouths, mimicking the act they were leading up to. Jessie gasped, and the tiny sound almost made Connor come undone. He growled low in this throat, breaking the kiss.

  “Bed’s upstairs.” He rasped.

  “Lead on.” She directed.

  He led her upstairs by the hand, and when they got to the bed, Connor gently pushed Jessie onto it.

  “Hang on a minute.” As she watched, curiously, he went around the room, lighting candles, which he had already scattered about. He turned to watch her watch him. “Is that okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said, her voice low with desire. “Now get back over here.”

  Connor walked to the bed, then crawled onto it, easing his body next to hers, kissing her gently.

  “No more interruptions.” He whispered to her, his voice filled with anticipation.

  “Thank God.” She jerked him to her, and pulled his jacket off, throwing it to the floor, before yanking off his tee shirt. Her need was so intense, she was beyond being gentle, or seductive. She eyed his chest, as she ran her hands over the smooth planes and valleys of muscle, twisting her fingers in the smattering of golden hair. Connor’s breath hitched at the feel of her warm fingers that sent arcs of electricity from their tips, but he wasn’t about to stop her. He could see her eager eyes, and he wanted her to get her fill.

  As her fingertips moved around to exploring his back, Connor lowered his mouth to Jessie’s neck, to taste her sweet skin. With his mouth, he felt the hot pulse in her neck, as it pounded in time with his. He moved his mouth over to her shoulders, where the straps of her sundress were, leaving a trail of hot kisses in his wake. His hands pulled her dress up over her hips, rubbing up and down the outside of her thighs.

  The feel of her skin under his fingertips was almost too much to bear. He wanted to feel her skin all over. He sat back on his feet, his thighs straddling her legs, and looked down at her, willing himself not to explode with desire.

  “Jessie…You’re so beautiful…” She sat up, and he pulled her dress up over her head, before she leaned back onto the pillows. His eyes devoured her, while his hands ran over her body, down from her shoulders to her hips, reveling in the feel of her taut skin over her smooth muscles. He could feel her body shudder beneath his questing fingertips, and he felt a certain smugness that his touch could make her feel such desire.

  The candle flames had grown bigger, making the room seem impossibly bright by candlelight, accentuating the shadows in the curves of her body. Goosebumps rose on skin, as the temperature in the room chilled against their feverish bodies, neither of them aware they were not alone.

  Lowering his mouth to her breast, he listened to her gasp of pleasure, as he tasted her sweetness. He sucked gently, before he ran his tongue back and forth over the nipple, flicking it. Then he bit down gently, feeling her body arch under his. Her hands were in his hair, rubbing his scalp, pressing him to her breast, wanting more.

  He didn’t notice the windows were starting to fog up.

  He continued his attentions, while listening to her breaths become more ragged, feeling her press against him. He looked at her over the mound of breast in his mouth, to see her eyes squeezed tightly shut, her mouth open, panting hot gasps. She moaned his name.

  “Connor…”

  “I want to hear you say it.” He needed to hear her say she wanted him.

  She seemed to be having trouble speaking, though. Her eyes opened to look down at him, laving her nipple with his tongue. The desire glazed her eyes.

  As he watched her, the desire in her eyes turned to shock, then horror, as she suddenly scrambled away from him, to a sitting position, her hands covering her breasts. A jagged cry tore from her throat.

  “Fuck!” She reached for her discarded dress.

  “What? Jessie, what?” Connor was at a loss.

  “It’s her! She’s behind you.” Jessie’s dress was over her head in a split second, inside out, but Connor wasn’t about to tell her. He looked around, and didn’t see anything. He did finally notice the chill in the room, though, and goose bumps on his chest. Jessie leaped from the bed, and quickly scooted along the perimeter of the room, her back to the wall toward the door, eyes on something to his left, which he couldn’t see.

  “Wait, Jessie!”

  “Not now, Connor. I’ve got to get out of here.” When she reached the door, her steps were faster, until she practically leaped down the stairs and out the front door of the carriage house.

  Going to the window, to watch Jessie’s abrupt departure, he noticed the word ‘MINE’ written in the fog on the glass.

  Swiping a hand through the writing, angrily he turned to the room. “What’s yours?” His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “What? What do you want from me?” He hurled curses at the empty room, then stalked out the door to go downstairs.

  Outside, he saw Jessie was gone.

  Connor strode across the parking lot, bare feet pounding into the rough cement. The pain on his feet was a wake-up call.

  The ghost was Louise, the girl who had written the diary, of that he was sure. She had had a terrible life, and he pitied her for that. But she was dead, for Christ’s sake, why did she hang around this house, which brought her so much misery? How was he supposed to get rid of her? He had to get rid of the ghost, because she was messing up things with Jessie. And he had never wanted any woman as bad as he wanted Jessie.

  He continued pacing the parking lot, not wanting to go back inside the carriage house, not wanting to go into the big house. He didn’t want any reminders of his spectral houseguest who was ruining his relationship with Jessie.

  When his feet were sore, he warily decided to return to his room. He cautiously opened the door and peered inside. Calling out tentatively, “I’m coming back inside, and I want you gone.” He felt stupid, but he didn’t know how else to go to bed. Maybe she would at least leave him alone, so he could sleep. If it was possible.

  There was nowhere else to go. This was his house. He had absolutely no liquid funds for a motel room, which was his first inclination. But he wasn’t going to be run out of his own house.

  He called out again. “I want you to leave, Louise. I need you to go now. This is my house. It’s not yours anymore. Please leave.” There was no response, not that he was expecting one. Sighing heavily, he climbed the stairs, repeating his entreaty for the ghost to leave him alone.

  In the loft, he still didn’t see any sign of her. The temperature seemed normal, the fog was gone from the windows. He threw himself on the bed, and didn’t sleep a wink the entire night, dreading more signs of Louise.

  Chapter 12

  Jessie had not slept at all, either. The next morning, when she got up to milk the goats, her eyes were gritty and blood-shot from lack of sleep, and her arms and legs were lead. Her muscles seemed gelatin, and everything was more difficult than necessary. Out in the barn, her fingers wouldn’t work to clip the lead on Anna Marie, and she dropped the bucket on the way to the stanchion.

  When she finally settled herself behind the goat on the stanchion, her fingers started working, and her mind traveled to last night.

  That woman had been pissed. It was the same one from the glimpse in the mirror, the flapper-like girl with the spit curls. She would have been attractive, if it weren’t for the expression of murderous hatred on her face. Her eyes had been narrowed in malevolence, and her lips curled up into a cruel sneer. Her hands were claw-like, as if she were fixing to attack. She’d been standing next to the bed, just beyond Connor.

  And she scared the hell out of Jessie.

  “Jesus, woman. What time do you get up in the morning?” Connor was standing in the doorway, a goofy grin on his face. He had shadows under his eyes, leading Jessie to believe he hadn’t slept much the night before, either.

  “How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak up on me?” Jessie was irritable this morning.

  He looked chagrined. “I�
�m sorry. I whistled when I walked up, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”

  Slightly mollified, Jessie snorted. “I’m not sure I could hear anything over the music here.” She continued her work, aware he was watching her raptly.

  Jessie felt his intense gaze like a warm caress over her body. It sent a prickle of heat across her. She finished up with Anna Marie, and went to turn her into the pasture, and grab the next goat, Sugar.

  Connor watched her lead Sugar up to the stanchion, and start milking.

  “So this is an every day thing? No breaks?”

  “Yeah. No breaks. I try to rotate who’s nursing when, so one goat doesn’t lactate year round, but I need to sell cheese year round. So when the next batch of girls have their babies, I’ll milk them and let these ladies rest.”

  “How many goats do you have?”

  “I’ve got thirty five mature females, two bucks, and about twenty babies, twelve of which are males.”

  “What do you do with them?”

  “I’ll butcher a couple to sell for meat. I’ve got a buyer who likes males for a lawnmower, and I was thinking of castrating a couple, just to keep around the herd.”

  Connor shifted uncomfortably. “Nice…”

  “Yeah, I get that reaction a lot.” She laughed. “In fact, if you have any good cabrito recipes, I can do the butchering next week before the Open House.”

  “That would be great. I have a great cabrito recipe, as a matter of fact.” His intense stare was boring into her, an undercurrent to his words. “What kind of goats do you raise?”

  “These are mostly a Nigerian Dwarf bred with Alpine. They produce the most milk, although the meat isn’t as tender as the strictly meat goats. But they’re smaller, and easier for me to handle on my own.” She finished with Sugar, patting her on the rump, and went to get Lucy. “Although as tame as they are, any breed would probably work. Except the bucks. They don’t get raised here, and I don’t handle them as much. They’ll come to a feed bucket, but that’s about it. These guys will climb into your lap, when they want attention.” She scratched Lucy behind the ears, earning a gentle nudge of affection in return.

  Connor watched Jessie as she worked, asking questions, which she readily answered. Jessie loved talking about her goats, and felt an inward surge of pleasure at his interest. He seemed genuinely curious. She was surprised when she had finished with the last goat. Not only was he still there, talking to her, but the two hours had flown by.

  As they walked back to her house, Connor took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

  “I wanted to talk about last night.” He said to her.

  She stopped walking, and looked up at him. “I’m not coming back to your place. I’m sorry if you don’t believe me, but that woman was there, and she was really pissed at me.” Jessie shuddered at the memory.

  “I believe you. She’s been there, but I have no idea what she wants.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Louise Cargill”

  Jessie gaped at him. “You actually know?”

  “Yeah, Luke found a diary in the wall of the carriage house. I read it.”

  Goosebumps popped up on Jessie’s arms, despite the rising heat of the day. “Come inside and tell me about it.” Part of her was feeling guilty she had dismissed Summer’s perceptions so matter-of-factly. But the other part wanted to know more, horrified at the fact the woman was real, and not a figment of her imagination. She had been a real woman, with a real life, and Jessie was curious about the malevolence emanating from her spectral being.

  Connor had seen her reaction in the expressions that flitted across her face, and he understood them completely. He too, had wondered if all of this had been his imagination, until Luke found the diary. He followed her into the kitchen, accepting a cup of coffee, and sat at the table.

  “I’m going to go see a priest today, about an exorcism.” He expelled the words with a whooshing breath, realizing how stupid it sounded. “I don’t have any idea if that is something they even still do or not. Of if it’s just a Hollywood thing…”

  “My friend Summer knows people.” Jessie said quietly.

  “That can get rid of ghosts?” Connor could admit he was relieved. If he started going around town, asking about exorcisms, he would certainly feed the rumor-mill.

  Jessie nodded. “Her girlfriend is a paranormal investigator, she knows how to make them go…away.” She shrugged. “I’ve never really paid attention. It all seemed so…over the top, before. You know?” She looked at Connor, questioningly. “But now, it’s all so real.” She poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat at the table next to him. “Tell me about her.”

  “Louise?”

  She nodded.

  Connor took a deep breath. This wasn’t a pretty story with a happy ending. “Well, the diary is from the nineteen twenties, starts when Louise is twenty three, living with her parents. She didn’t use the words, exactly, but I think her father sexually abused her. It didn’t start out that way, but that’s what it accelerated to.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Her father was mentally unstable, paranoid, delusional. She lived a hellish existence in this house. Louise took a lover, in the carriage house. The met in secret up in the loft. Her father found out, and the lover disappeared.” Connor paused.

  “I think the father killed him, or threatened him, or something. Shortly after, the father snapped. He accused his wife of an affair, which I’m not sure she actually had. He’d been abusing her for years. But the night he snapped, he shot her and Louise, then turned the gun on himself. Louise survived, and continued to live in the house, taking lovers to fill some void inside. When none of the men would marry her, she killed herself.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair, again. “At least she said she was going to, and then the diary entries stopped.” He looked at Jessie. “She had a truly tragic life, but I don’t know what to do with her now. I don’t know how to get rid of her.”

  Jessie had paled at his telling of Louise’s story. Connor couldn’t help but think of her and Chad, and a surge of protectiveness flowed through him. He pulled her into his lap, wanting to wrap her in an embrace that would bring color back to her cheeks.

  “It’s okay. It’s the past.” He murmured into her hair, not sure if he was referring to Louise, or Chad.

  “But she’s still here, so it’s not the past.” She turned to him, caressing his face with her calloused fingers. “What if she wants you? What if she thinks of you as her lover?” Her eyes were wide at the possibility. “That would explain why she hates me so much.” She shuddered in his arms.

  Connor sighed. He had come up with the possibility himself, especially with the possessive writing on his windows. “Yeah, it would explain it. I don’t want you to come over again.” His voice was pained. He hated telling her she couldn’t come see him. “Not until I figure out how to get rid of her.” His grasp on her strengthened. He felt protective of Jessie, wanting to shield her from the presence in his house.

  “I’ll call Summer. Right now, if you want me to. She’ll know what to do. If she doesn’t, her girlfriend will.”

  “Okay.”

  She released herself from his grip, and went to the phone.

  After dialing, she listened for a little while and then said, “Hey Summer. Connor and I have a favor to ask.” A pause. “Um…we were wondering if you and Bo could do something about the ghost in his house?” A longer pause. Connor could hear murmuring from the other end of the phone line. “Yeah.” “Okay.” Jessie glanced at the calendar next to her phone. “Sure.” “Yeah, he has her diary.” The murmuring Connor heard got shrill, excited sounding. “Okay. I’ll let him know. Thanks, so much.” “I love you, too.” Jessie sighed. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning to.” “Okay.” “Bye.” She hung up.

  “Bo is on a job in New Orleans, which may take up to two weeks, but Summer said she’ll talk to her about coming down as soon a
s she’s finished. Summer wants the diary. She said that would make it easier, if she had it to prepare.”

  “Sure.” Connor agreed. “I can’t think of any reason why I need to hold onto it. It’s damn disturbing.”

  Jessie nodded, before walking back to Connor and sitting on his lap again. She snuggled against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, reveling in the warmth of her against his body. He trailed his fingers lazily up and down her back, inhaling her scent as she rested against him.

  Jessie made a contented sound against his chest, that sent a swell of warm satisfaction through his body. “That feels so good…” she said quietly.

  He could feel her breathing slow, and deepen.

  Connor thought she might have actually fallen asleep, in his lap, here in the kitchen. Deciding she probably slept just as well as he did last night, he picked her up in his arms, and carefully walked through the doorway to the hall off the kitchen. He followed the wide hallway until it opened into a cavernous room, which brought a chuckle to his lips. While the rest of the house was immaculate, dirty clothes covered Jessie’s bedroom. The part of Jessie that she let everyone see was a put-together, hard-working farm girl, but the part of her evidenced by this room showed she had the capability of letting some things slide. Like laundry.

  He laid her down in her bed, carefully, and pulled her muck boots off her feet. Looking down at her, he felt a tug at his heart. She looked so peaceful in sleep. He laid a soft kiss on her forehead, pulled the covers up to her chin, and left quietly.

  Jessie didn’t even know she had been asleep, until the phone woke her up. She sat up groggily, wondering how she got into her bed, then panicked briefly, wondering if the morning had been a dream. Had she really milked the goats? Or did she just think she did? Then she remembered she had been in Connor’s lap, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his fingers stroking her back. She’d fallen asleep, and he must have put her to bed.