Texas Tea [Del Fantasma]

by Maura Anderson

But the little girl's ghost had never been seen outside the room she died in. So what could Lara be interacting with?

  Since she didn't seem to be in any distress, he forced himself to stay back and not interfere. Coyote didn't appreciate it, however. Any time he felt his nerves tingle with awareness, Coyote yipped and screamed in protest that something else was speaking to her. He wanted to be free to protect her, to keep her from any possibility of harm.

  Most of his life he lived in harmony with Coyote, willing to give control over regularly and enjoying the non-human side of his spirit. Recently Coyote had been in charge as often as his human side had been. But this was one time when he wished he could figure out a way to muzzle the animal spirit. The continual rollercoaster ride of alarm and struggle for control had given him a headache.

  The instant the thought crossed his mind, Coyote made his feelings about a muzzle very clear. Painfully clear.

  The crowd of visitors started to thin out and he looked at his watch. Only a half hour until the park closed for the day. Surprisingly, he didn't want the day to end. He'd enjoyed the time spent with her, even without doing much other than stand around, fill in tidbits of information in addition to what the on-duty guides provided, and just watch Lara work.

  The volunteers began the familiar closing routine and Matt idly listened while he watched Lara take a last few pictures from the walkway of the lighthouse lantern then disappear inside. A few minutes later, she reappeared at his side.

  "Thank you for keeping me company, Matt. You've got to be utterly bored by now, but I really appreciate the extra information and that you got permission for me to go up to the lantern. The view from up there is incredible."

  She babbled a bit and fumbled as she tried to tuck her camera back into her bag and he realized she was tired. Even beyond merely tired. More accurately, she seemed exhausted to the point of being barely able to function. The lack of a real meal and the entire day spent on her feet, taking pictures and notes, must have exacted a large toll from the photojournalist. One she couldn't really afford on top of what had seemed to be a severe case of jet lag yesterday. She just didn't seem to have much in the way of reserves.

  "Not a problem."

  She seemed wobbly as they made their way back to the parking lot and his hand shot out to steady her. This time she didn't protest. A bit emboldened, Matt wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, the few inches of difference in their heights making her fit perfectly against him, tucked under his arm.

  "Let's get something to eat. I know a great little restaurant that serves real Mexican food, not the Americanized crap."

  He braced himself for the almost inevitable no.

  After a moment of silence, she surprised him by accepting. “That sounds great. I have no idea where anything is around here and I know I really need to eat, even if I don't feel hungry."

  He only just stopped himself from sighing in happy relief that the day wasn't over yet but Coyote went nuts at her words. Why did spending more time with this visiting photojournalist matter to him? To Coyote? He had the ominous feeling it mattered more than he could imagine—and when she knew his secret and rejected him for it, it would hurt beyond any other pain he'd ever known.

  Chapter Four

  Matt opened his truck's passenger door for her and the wonderful smells of the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant's food hit her with such intensity her achy stomach went into full-fledged growling in an instant. Her missing appetite returned, with a vengeance.

  Eyes closed and mouth watering, she could almost taste the Mexican peasant cooking she loved. She licked her lips and opened her eyes again to see Matt standing beside the truck's open door, one hand extended to help her climb out.

  He smiled, lips curving into a surprisingly sultry smile given his earlier care to distance himself. “Can I give you a hand?"

  Even his voice seemed deeper and sexier.

  There were others things she'd like him to give her in addition to his strong, long-fingered hands. Like his lips. Or the not-insubstantial cock she'd seen outlined by his worn jeans. Nearly groaning aloud, she pulled her thoughts back from that particular path. She really did need some nourishment. Maybe it would allow her to concentrate on something other than Matt. She forced herself to focus on his face again.

  The expression on his face softened, muscles smoothing out and relaxing, but his golden eyes seemed to be looking through her own, examining her soul. Not waiting for her to take his hand before dismounting from the very tall vehicle, he reached into the cab, grasped her waist tightly, and lifted her out of the truck with ease.

  Startled, Lara grabbed his arms. No one had picked her up, or even tried to, since the ghost rescued her when she was sixteen—and she'd been shorter and quite a bit lighter than she now was. Rather than being scared, she reveled in the unaccustomed sensation of being small, almost dainty.

  Even after he set her carefully on her feet, Matt didn't seem to be in a hurry to take his hands off her. He slowly grazed them down her hips in a slow, lingering caress before letting her go completely.

  The light graze of his fingers over her layers of clothes set her nerve endings on fire as if he caressed her naked skin. Burning heat radiated from her sides and mixed with the wild tingling she'd learned to associate with his presence nearby and created waves of awareness and longing. Her nipples tightened and her uterus clenched in rhythm. If this was what happened through cargo pants and thermal underwear, what would happen if he touched her skin?

  Common sense. She had to rediscover her common sense. Lara forced herself to break the sense of intimacy by taking a step to the side and turning to shut the truck door.

  Matt seemed to take the hint and didn't stop her. He pressed the alarm button on his key fob and motioned her toward the door of the restaurant.

  The interior of the small restaurant was clean, decorated in burgundies and blues, and very crowded. The bitter taste of panic set in at the sight of how many patrons clustered just inside the door, laughing and chattering in Spanish. She took a half step back in retreat but bumped into Matt before she could escape back outside.

  About to turn and suggest they find somewhere less busy, she realized her fear had ebbed the instant she touched the quiet man she'd spent the day with. Heartbeat slowing, she took a deep, steadying breath. Then another and another until her heartbeat returned to normal.

  Somehow he calmed her. Just having him close made her feel she had help nearby. The strange wild side she could feel in him now made her feel protected instead of threatened. It was sexy and arousing instead of terrifying. Her rational mind seemed to have no say in the matter, no matter how much she questioned her own reactions.

  What is he doing to me?

  Matt's strong, muscular arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her firmly back against his solid body. Their closeness nestled the ridge of his cock against her butt and sent white-hot needles through her pussy.

  Wow.

  Arousal blazed up again. Her clit throbbed and she rubbed her thighs together in search of relief, regardless of the very public location. Somehow she couldn't bring herself to be upset at her totally out of character libido, instead she was amazed by the fact she could become so aroused so easily. So much for her a-sexual self-image.

  The urge to play a little took over and she moved her hips in a subtle wiggle, rubbing herself against Matt's impressive bulge. He exhaled in an almost inaudible hiss next to her ear before he tilted his hips to rub his thickening cock more firmly between her cheeks. The glorious sensation lasted an all too brief instant before he released her and nudged her away.

  She wanted to groan at the loss. Now annoyed at her sudden fixation on Matt, she collected herself and straightened her shoulders. The other customers waiting nearby were studiously avoiding looking at her and she hated wondering if her lack of control was the subject of their amused conversation.

  Matt followed her when she resolutely stepped back into the small amount of s
pace available in the waiting area. She still needed to eat some real food or she would be in sorry shape tomorrow. It seemed like the only hunger she would be able to slake would be the one for food anyway. How was she supposed to cope with what was happening if she didn't understand it at all? This was so far outside her experiences that it might as well be happening to another person.

  Even the ghosts seemed remarkably silent. By now there would typically been multiple comments or warnings, maybe even some deliberate attempts to freak out the man she'd become interested in. Why not this time?

  A plump woman with a smiling, wrinkled face and long black hair liberally laced through with gray wove between the tables toward them, beginning to chatter excitedly in Spanish as she pushed her way through the waiting customers.

  When she was near enough, the older woman reached up and grasped Matt's cheeks with both hands while she continued her nonstop monologue. Her obvious affection for, and fearlessness of, the ranger was amazing. Were they related somehow?

  Matt flinched away, almost imperceptibly, and broke into the next millisecond pause in the woman's talking. “Buenos noches, Ines. This is Lara. I've told her about your cooking."

  When Matt spoke in English, she relaxed a little. Her own knowledge of Spanish was limited to a few curse words and asking where to find the bathroom. Any more than that and she was lost. No matter what, she always had a paranoid fear that any conversations she couldn't understand were about her, laughing at her. Foreign languages only increased that feeling, sometimes to the point of panic.

  Matt reached out an arm, wrapped it around Lara's waist with his hand on her hip, then pulled her gently up against his warm and muscular side. She relaxed, almost against her will, fitting her body's contours into his. It felt ... natural.

  "Lara, this is Ines. She and her sister own this restaurant.” Matt gave her a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

  Ines stared at them, looked at Matt's arm and then into his face in obvious surprise. Eyebrows raised, she gave Lara an assessing glance before a slow smile turned her expression from questioning to accepting, even welcoming. She took Lara's hand and tugged her away from Matt, then pulled her through the restaurant toward the back of the room. She didn't spare even a glance to see if Matt followed them or not.

  Ines finally stopped near a small empty table tucked in the back corner, near the kitchen but not in the path. “This is my table. Tonight it's for you."

  Despite Ines’ earlier rapid Spanish, she spoke English without much of an accent at all.

  Lara glanced back over her shoulder, relieved to see Matt only a few steps away. Looking back, she saw Ines’ questioning look and nodded to the restaurant owner. The table was perfect; a little isolated and quiet enough for her to have a chance to calm down and catch her breath. She might even be able to carry on a real conversation with the quiet and gorgeous man accompanying her.

  She was eager to know more about Matt. Surprisingly eager. Well aware she only had a few days to spend here and then she would leave, as she always did, she still wanted to get closer to someone she'd have to leave behind. Her nomadic life and career suddenly felt somehow lacking, no longer as perfect as it had once seemed. Regret wasn't something she acknowledged very often.

  Ines fetched two large glasses of water, then disappeared into the kitchen after giving Matt a final pat on the shoulder. He waited until the older woman was gone before rolling his eyes.

  The expression on his face was so resigned and long-suffering that she couldn't contain the girlish giggle that erupted from her, surprising even herself. Only able to stifle it with a hand over her mouth, she shook her head and laughed again when Matt assumed an exaggerated expression of innocence.

  Ready to get off her feet before she collapsed, Lara reached for her chair. Matt took a single long stride forward, brushed her hands away and pulled it out for her. The old-world manners from the imposing, alpha man gave her a warm, somehow tender feeling of being cared for again.

  Lara immediately gave herself a mental shake to dispel the soft feeling. She had to remember that only she could care for herself. No one else could or would do it for her—especially not a virtual stranger. Why was this becoming more and more difficult to keep in mind? Her entire adult life had been built on duty, self-reliance and the fulfillment of a promise in return for the gift of her life. There was no room for ease. No time for more than a quick sexual encounter. No space for a real relationship, however short.

  Why was she now feeling like she'd met someone special? Someone who might not be so easy to discard when she needed to start a new project?

  Because you don't really want to be alone.

  The softly whispered words could have been a figment of her own imagination, only she felt the thrum of a ghost's faint presence.

  She muttered an obligatory thanks to the ghost as she collapsed into the chair Matt held for her. Not her most graceful moment, by far, but the throbbing of her feet was growing more severe and her mental chaos was increasing as well.

  Just as she pulled her chair forward to the table and reached for her napkin, her stomach growled another unmistakable, loud demand. Great. She needed that embarrassment on top of her own turmoil. The heat flooding her face told her she was blushing again, badly. She looked anywhere but at Matt, sure that he'd been disgusted by the unfeminine sound, no matter how natural it was.

  Without any comment, Matt merely chuckled and sat in his own chair. He held a plastic-encased menu just out of her reach until she finally looked directly at his face, now annoyed and ready to slap him down if he was actually laughing at her. Or she'd call a cab and leave. He'd talked her into letting him drive and going back for her car later but she still had her wallet and her cell phone.

  A ripple of relief flowed over her when she saw only a slight smile on his face—one that seemed more sympathetic than mocking. He handed her the menu, but he didn't seem to have one of his own. “Didn't you get a menu? You can share mine if you want. You have to be hungry after the long day today."

  "I don't need a menu. I've probably eaten just about everything here. It's all very good."

  He picked up his dripping water glass and drank almost half the contents in a few long swallows.

  Mesmerized, she stared at him. The dark hint of stubble just shadowed his strong chin, making his exotic skin tone even more attractive. His high cheekbones gave him an aristocratic, mysterious air but his golden eyes belied that—seeming more like a wild animal's eyes than those of a human. His hair was thick and blue-black, its gleaming strands saved from perfection by their disarray.

  He took another sip of the water, his eyes drifting shut as he drank. If he took this much pleasure in the simple act of drinking a glass of cold water, what else would he enjoy? Lara's newly explicit imagination veered off into mental images of Matt enjoying other kinds of pleasure. Would he relax and throw himself into the moment? Would he fight to control the pleasure instead?

  "Lara?"

  She heard her name, as if in the distance, but didn't connect it to the sight of Matt's lips moving for a moment. Such intriguing lips. How would they feel against her own? Would they caress and coax? Would they instead demand and compel? Would they open to let her explore the secrets they hid?

  "Earth to Lara."

  The amusement in Matt's voice snapped her out of her sensual daydream and back to the reality of the small restaurant. He looked questioningly at her and tapped the menu clutched in her hands, still unopened. “Do you want me to order for you? You seemed to drift off for a moment there. You must be really tired."

  This was ridiculous. She wasn't prone to mooning over handsome men. She had only just met Matt and, while he was attractive and seemed interested, his playful overtures could have been just that—playing. And she didn't have time for this, let alone the energy. The obligation she owed the dead lighthouse keeper had to come first. Without it, she wouldn't even be here. Her promise still ruled her life, and it would continue to until this last
book was completed.

  Sex was fun but celibacy had never been difficult for her. Some women spoke of sex as if it were so compelling that it overshadowed common sense, honor or even self-preservation. She'd never been able to understand why. It was merely a release she could just as easily accomplish with her own hands or a few toys. And that had the added advantage of not having to worry if her lover would wake up screaming when the ghosts decided to torment him.

  So why the sudden fixation on Matt?

  She shook her head and forced herself to look through the menu, putting aside her questions in favor of nourishment. After deciding what she was in the mood for several times, Lara finally surrendered and closed the menu with a sigh.

  "Okay, you order for me. I just can't decide.” She handed the menu to Matt and closed her eyes, rubbing her temples to try to dispel the building tension.

  "Is there anything you feel really hate or can't have?” Matt's voice was just loud enough to carry over the background noise of the restaurant.

  "I'm not really fond of moles. I'm not actually fond of any stews. Something about the texture just doesn't work for me."

  Lara continued to rub her forehead until the tension eased a bit and she ran her hands back to her braid. As usual, it was unraveling. It took a conscious effort to not pull out her hairbrush and rebraid the mass. She hated the uncontrolled curls and any time she knew it was escaping the tight control of her braid; she wanted to immediately tame it again.

  Her eyes popped open and she dropped the braid the instant she heard someone approach the table. Matt looked at her with a slight frown and Ines now stood beside the table, water pitcher in hand.

  "I'm okay, just tired."

  Ines refilled Matt's empty water glass and pushed Lara's untouched glass toward her. “Drink. You need water."

  She watched until Lara obediently raised the glass to her lips and sipped, then turned her attention to Matt. “What do you and your lady want for dinner?"

  Lara's hackles rose at the assumption that she was Matt's anything. She was her own person. But before she collected her wits enough to protest, he ordered what sounded like enough food for four people instead of just two and Ines disappeared back into the kitchen.