by Vivien Dean
When Cruz slammed the door shut behind them, Brody snapped out of his fugue. His wide eyes swiveled upward, luminous with unshed tears.
“Whoever these ghosts are, they’re assholes.”
The incongruity of Brody’s observation startled Cruz into smiling. He threw an arm around Brody’s shoulders and guided him away from the door. “Did you try stripping for them when communication failed?”
Brody glanced down at his bare chest as if he’d forgotten about his state of undress. “I was in the middle of changing when they locked me in the bathroom. So much for Etienne’s idea, huh?”
Cruz had to agree. The ghosts weren’t interested in negotiating or coming to any accord. Their greatest joy seemed to come from taunting Brody, though why still remained a mystery.
“If it’s any consolation, the tactic would’ve totally worked on me.” It would’ve too. A fine layer of hair covered Brody’s pecs, teasing a peek at his tight nipples. Cruz squeezed Brody’s shoulders. “Come on. You can borrow one of my shirts for now.”
Five minutes later they were back in the yard, strolling to the edge of the property so Brody could clear his head, when Cruz called Etienne back.
“Everything okay?” Etienne asked before anybody could say hi.
“Yeah,” Brody answered. His voice was remarkably strong considering how shaken he’d been when Cruz found him. “Talking failed, so what’s your next bright idea?”
“Still want to get rid of them?”
“More than ever.”
“Then we work on that. Just tell me when to expect you.”
When Brody cast a frown at him, Cruz concentrated on Etienne rather than the fresh guilt rushing through him. “Don’t I still have to do Mr. Weber’s evictions?” he asked.
“What’s the point? Junior’s our sensitive. Get him out of the house, and everything’ll clear up.”
“He won’t believe it,” Brody said. “They really shook him up.”
“If you tell him what’s going on—”
“No. Not happening.” Bullheaded Brody was back. Cruz liked this version a lot more when he wasn’t on the receiving end. “He needs to feel like his home is free of them.”
“How have you managed to keep it a secret all these years?”
“By being smart.”
“We’ve got other words for that around here.”
“I like mine.”
This was devolving fast. Cruz didn’t understand why these two were sparking against each other, but he needed to intervene before it got out of hand. “I’ll tell Mr. Weber it’s not as widespread as the manifestations made it appear, and we’ll scale it down considerably. Just do enough to convince him they’re gone. Then we’ll head back to Pennsylvania. Sound good?”
“He’s expecting the whole kit and caboodle. If you don’t deliver, he might want a partial refund.”
Cruz had already thought of that. While the money would make a huge difference to his parents, it wasn’t worth deceiving Brody more than he already was.
“If Dad made a deal, he’ll stick to it as long as he’s happy with the end results,” Brody said. “I won’t let him renege.”
Their eyes met. They both understood why he would insist Cruz got paid. Cruz wanted to wallow in gratitude for his magnanimity, but his guilt eclipsed it.
He tore his gaze away and kicked at the grass. “I’ll keep you updated on how things are going. If there’s a problem, I’ll call.”
“Call even if there isn’t a problem,” Etienne said.
“Will do.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Cruz said after he’d disconnected.
“I couldn’t live with myself if I added to your parents’ troubles,” Brody replied.
No, but now Cruz had to find a way to live with his deceit. Would it all be worth it in the end?
BRODY stayed outside while Cruz went back into the house to gather up all the supplies. He moved as quickly as he could, but nothing seemed amiss. No cold patches, nothing moved, no more random music.
He saved Brody’s room for last.
Everything was as he’d left it, though the music box had finally either wound down or been stopped by Brody’s ghosts. When he picked it up, it looked like any other he’d ever seen, albeit heavier from the use of natural materials. One corner was scuffed, but otherwise it was in pristine condition. Nothing was inside either. Unsure what to do with it, he opted to take it back to his room for the time being. Brody didn’t need it around for an encore.
In Brody’s bathroom, he found batteries abandoned in the sink and his discarded T-shirt in the hamper. The scent of his deodorant hung in the air, but beneath that was an earthy decay that reminded Cruz of late fall, when the dead leaves in the yard were starting to rot from the growing cold and wet of impending winter. It wasn’t everywhere. It was faintest near the shower and choking in the doorway.
That was where Brody had been standing when he’d walked in.
To be certain, Cruz walked through the house again, focusing on the way it smelled. He discovered no more traces of it. Before returning to Brody’s room, he went to the back door and yelled out for him.
Brody came jogging up the hill, frowning when he reached the house. “What’s wrong?”
“Follow me.”
Upstairs, he stayed to the side as he gestured toward the bathroom. “Do me a favor and stand where you were when I came up.” He waited until Brody was in place. “Now sniff.”
Brody did as he was told. “What am I supposed to be smelling?”
“You don’t smell anything unusual?”
He sniffed again, this time more deeply. “No, not really.”
That was weird. Just to be sure, Cruz went to his side, but he detected the same stench without any effort. “I’ll have to ask Etienne about it.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Don’t worry.” Brody had enough on his plate, and until Cruz had an explanation, it would only be conjecture. “Listen, how do you feel about getting out of here tonight?”
Brody’s features hardened. “I thought we agreed I was here until the end.”
“I didn’t mean go home. I meant out of the house. Something relaxing. Do they bother you when you go to the movies or out to dinner or things like that?”
Once he understood what Cruz meant, Brody relaxed again. “No, they usually wait until I’m alone. That’s why I always thought it was in my head.”
“That settles it. We’re going out for dinner and a movie. Preferably something silly that we can laugh at.”
“And no ghosts,” Brody said with a tip of a smile.
“No ghosts.”
“Any allergies I should be aware of?”
Cruz cocked a brow. “Why do you get to pick where we’re going?”
“Because I’m the one who grew up here.”
“Then I’m picking the movie.”
“You should be warned. Our theater is tiny. Only three screens.”
“It’s still three choices.”
When a car door slammed outside, they both looked in the direction of the hall.
“Dad’s home,” Brody said. “What’re we going to tell him?”
A watered-down version of the truth, but at least Cruz didn’t have to face him alone. “Exactly what we said to Etienne, unless you’ve got a problem with that.”
“Not with that.” Brody fidgeted for a moment before he blurted, “Do we have to go see your friend when we’re done? I’d rather you took care of everything. I trust you. I don’t know him from jack.”
“Etienne’s the best.”
“So?”
He wanted to give Brody some peace, but if he explained why Etienne had to do it, Brody would lose that trust in him in a heartbeat. “I won’t let him charge you,” he tried.
Brody grimaced. “I don’t care about the money. I don’t even think it can be done, to be honest. But if someone’s going to try, I want it to be you.”
Why did this have to be so difficult?
“Look at it this way. If you discovered you had a twenty-year-old problem in your plumbing, who would you rather fix it? The plumber who only works part-time for some extra money? Or the professional with a full-time business who’s so good at what he does that he has to turn away clients? Etienne’s that professional. It’d be a dereliction of my duty if I didn’t want you to have the very best.”
Silently, Cruz prayed Brody would see reason. He almost sighed in relief when Brody finally relented.
“Fine. But you’re going to be there too. Something about him gets under my skin.”
People disliking Etienne was not a phenomenon Cruz was familiar with, but he played along. Anything to keep Brody from changing his mind again. “Whatever it takes. Now come on, let’s go talk to your dad.”
Chapter Eight
THE most surprising thing to happen to Brody today was not having his father hug him in gratitude for believing the house really was haunted—though that was astonishing all on its own—but rather Cruz’s insistence they go out that night. Alone. For the classic dinner and a movie.
A date.
Brody hadn’t been on a real date in over six months. His research had been intense recently, for reasons that had nothing to do with his ghosts and everything to do with making some real breakthroughs about the effects of microbleeds. He hadn’t had time to think about sex, let alone miss it that much, so the prospect of going out with someone who was smart, empathetic, and gorgeous felt like he’d cashed in all his celibacy chips at once for the supreme deluxe package.
He stared at the sparse offerings in his closet. This was going to be a disaster before they even left the house. He had nothing to wear.
The Chinese restaurant he’d chosen was casual, which meant the jeans he’d arrived in would suffice, but he only kept T-shirts and sweats here at the house, for the unexpected nights when he was forced to stay. He hadn’t packed a bag before coming either. If he didn’t want to look like a slacker, he had to raid his father’s closet and hope Loren didn’t notice or comment before they left.
He sneaked into Loren’s bedroom while Cruz was in the shower and snagged a black pullover. Simple enough not to draw attention but sharp enough to look like he cared. The final result was more than adequate, though when he went downstairs to leave, his mouth went dry at the sight of his date.
Cruz had changed out of the khaki shorts from earlier into a pair of navy slacks that accentuated his already long legs. The short-sleeved yellow polo he paired with it wasn’t expensive, but the pale shade heightened his darker complexion. He’d undone his hair too. Brody didn’t usually care for guys who sported longer hair, but the unruly curls skimming Cruz’s shoulders added to the Mediterranean fantasy he hadn’t even realized he was cultivating.
“I can’t believe how hungry I am,” Cruz said.
Brody smiled. “That’s because you eat rabbit food.”
“At least I’m not eating the rabbit.” He said it with a matching grin, taking away any potential sting. “Since this is your turf, I’m guessing you’re driving.”
“Just follow me.”
As they passed the living room, Cruz paused and poked his head in. “We’re heading out.” Beyond his shoulder, Brody saw Loren sitting on the couch, embroiled in a portfolio. “Last chance to join us.”
Loren waved them off. “You two have fun without me. Though I can’t promise I won’t call if I get any more surprise visits.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Brody’s excitement waned a bit as they headed out to the car. Had Cruz invited Loren out of courtesy because he knew he’d refuse, or had Brody completely misread the invitation earlier? He could’ve sworn Cruz was interested—the touching when it wasn’t completely necessary, his nearness in the kitchen when Brody had been on the edge of losing it—but maybe his instincts were off. He’d been out of the game for months, and the word “date” had never actually come from Cruz’s lips.
Crap, was this just Cruz’s way of trying to make Brody feel better?
By the time he slid behind the wheel, Brody was convinced he’d spent the whole afternoon building castles in the sky that were actually rubble better suited for demolition. Who was he kidding? His life was a mess. Nobody in their right mind, especially knowing all the details like Cruz did, would want a part in it.
“Well, that happened a lot sooner than I was hoping,” Cruz commented when Brody pulled out of the drive.
Brody kept his eyes on the road ahead, his grip tight as he navigated. “What did?”
“You getting stuck in your head again. You seemed happier this afternoon. I was keeping my fingers crossed I could keep you there until at least tomorrow.”
So he’d been right. This was just about Cruz’s desire to help. The certainty didn’t actually make him feel better, though.
“I’m fine.” It wasn’t really a lie. Most of his life was defined as “fine.”
“You’re not.”
“And you’re the expert in everything me now?”
“No, but you have the most expressive eyes of anyone I’ve ever known. I’d have to be blind not to see that something’s bothering you again.”
A compliment wrapped up in concern. Not how he’d wanted the night to go.
But if Cruz could read him as easily as that—it had taken him all of thirty seconds to realize something had shifted in Brody—honesty was probably the best policy. Pretense would only drive a wedge between them, and he needed Cruz on his side if he had any hope for ridding himself of the ghosts.
“I don’t like being considered a damsel,” he said. “I’ve fought for my independence my whole life. It only just hit me when we got in the car that that’s how you see me.”
They coasted to a halt at a four-way stop, and he stole a glance sideways. Cruz had sobered from his teasing at the house, his mouth a hard line as he stared out the windshield, his shoulders completely rigid.
When he hadn’t replied before they went through the intersection, Brody did his best not to squirm. “I made this really awkward, didn’t I?”
“No, it wasn’t just you.”
Out of habit, Brody checked for any signs of his specters in the vicinity. Just because Cruz couldn’t see them didn’t mean he might not be able to sense their presence, but thankfully the car was devoid of anything supernatural. “I’m the only other person here.”
“True, but you’re not the only person who’s said something like that to me today.” His tone was as tight as his body language. “It’s annoying.”
The only people Cruz had interacted with today outside of Brody were Loren and Etienne. Brody doubted his father would overstep that boundary. He seemed completely enamored with Cruz. That left a sole option.
“You asked Etienne’s opinion of me?”
His glimmer of hope that he’d misread the situation yet again was dashed immediately. “No, he offered it without any help from me. He calls it the best friend’s prerogative.”
Brody steeled against letting his disappointment show, then wondered if it was in any way effective if he was as easy to read as Cruz claimed. “You’d probably do the same thing for him.”
“I suppose I would,” Cruz said, a begrudging edge to his voice. “But I don’t often get the chance. Simone usually beats me to the punch.”
“Who’s Simone?”
“His sister.”
“Ah.” With that acknowledgment, however, Brody was left high and dry about how to go on. He’d ruined the mood with his observations, and Cruz wasn’t offering anything further in way of conversation. All he could think to say was, “I’m sorry if I hit a nerve. That’s the last thing I wanted. But I had high hopes for how tonight was going to turn out.” Then, because he couldn’t really make it any worse, he added, “I thought tonight was a date.”
His confession snapped Cruz’s gaze back to him, probing and tangible even with Brody keeping his eyes on the road. “Really?”
His cheeks warmed, but he held on to the desire to kee
p things honest now that everything about his ghost problem was out in the open. “I thought you were interested, but I guess it’s been so long since I’ve actually gone out with someone, my instincts are shot.”
“How long?”
Brody tried not to grimace. “Over six months.”
“That’s not so bad.”
“How long has it been for you?”
“Do hookups count?”
“Sure.”
“Almost a year.” When Brody glanced at him in disbelief, Cruz nodded. “No lie. My last relationship ended after Labor Day last year. A couple weeks later, I hooked up with this guy I picked up at a bar when I was trying to convince myself I wasn’t Bilbo Baggins, and that was it.”
“How is that possible?” At least Brody had a good reason to keep guys at bay. The ghosts were unpredictable at best.
“I told you I was a workaholic.”
“That doesn’t mean all the guys you probably met were blind.”
A hint of a smile softened Cruz’s mouth. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“That’s because it was.”
“I’m not anything close to you, though. That was something else Etienne said that pissed me off. He guessed you were gorgeous and then laughed his ass off about me wanting to help you, because, according to him, that’s part of the trifecta of my perfect guy.”
The blush he’d felt coming on deepened at Cruz’s appreciation. His head was a muddle. He hadn’t messed up the part about Cruz finding him attractive, but he still couldn’t tell how much was genuine and how much was the crusader in Cruz wanting to win the day.
But…. Cruz thought he was gorgeous. His word. Certainly not one Brody would’ve ever used to describe himself. Maybe there was hope for this evening after all.
“I’m guessing from your reaction to my comment that it’s not,” Brody said carefully.