“You’re my date?” She seemed to have a hard time with the concept.
“Yup, seems like it.”
“I want my money back.”
He laughed. It felt good and when her lips twitched and she seemed to be fighting her own mirth, he did a mental fist bump. “Well, I should have figured that a woman who liked ghosts as much as me, who would find being locked in a plantation overnight fun, would be you.”
Her mouth flattened as quickly as she’d smiled and he regretted his words.
“I don’t know that we can say we like ghosts on the same level. After all, I’m full of bullshit.”
****
Heather remembered that TV show with a medium on it and how the ghosts always filled the heroine in on what other people were thinking. She’d give her left tit to be able to read the expressions shifting on Gavin’s face but no handy ghost felt the need to translate for her.
Seeing him again brought all the old feelings back. She wished things were different. He’d been the only man to make her heart race before and he still possessed that power. She longed to ask him to forgive her for mentioning Garrett. She wanted to tell him she’d never, ever, no matter how urgent the message, tell her what he had to say again.
She didn’t have it in her to slap her gift in the face and pretend she hadn’t heard Garrett. In the years since they’d split, Garrett returned, checked in on her even though his essence was so like Gavin’s it almost stung to have him in her head.
Not even if it meant gaining the forgiveness of the one man she’d ever loved.
Loved. Stupid word. Is my pride worth more than his love?
She wasn’t sure anymore.
“You’re not full of bullshit.” His whispered words were almost like a ghost’s voice, carried on the evening breeze.
She shook off the need for him, the desire to run into his arms and hug him because he was there and she’d missed him. Instead she tugged at her reserves of strength and kept her chin high. “I wish that was how you really felt but I know differently. I’m still staying tonight, by the way.”
If she thought, even a little, this would dissuade him from going through with the date, he quickly squashed that idea. “I’m staying too. My gut says tonight is important.”
Funny that he said that. She thought the same thing, still felt the prickle of anticipation even through the clusterfuck of emotion swirling inside her.
“In this, at least, we can agree. Too bad our fascination with the dead is the only thing we share now.” The words felt like a lie even as she said them. She might be nothing more than a liar and a fake to him but he was so much more to her. So very much more. If only there was a way to get past their differences. If only.
Chapter Four
“Well, hello! You both beat me here!” A perky woman he hadn’t noticed pull in and get out of her car made her way up the stairs. “Ready for your night of haunting?”
It was a chance. To make right what he’d flubbed so horribly. The dating service couldn’t know, not possibly, how much Heather meant to him. How happy he’d been with her.
How much he regretted his explosion. If she believed in him, in his work, who was he to dispute hers?
“Yes,” he answered and shifted his green bag.
Without another word, he offered a hand down to Heather, an olive branch disguised in polite civility.
She ignored the offered hand, and walked the long way around to climb the stairs. “So, you lock us in there for the night?”
“Yes, this house has long been known to have an extensive and rich past. The paranormal elements, though, are mostly confined to two areas.” Unlocking the front door she waved them in and Gavin took in the wide, sweeping stair that curved up to the next floor. Dust lay like a protective blanket over every available surface but didn’t hide the richness of the woods, intricately carved and with much attention to small architectural details that spoke of the wealth of the owners.
“The first is the staircase. Many have spotted an elegant woman, garbed in period attire, sweeping down the stairs to gaze at the door as if waiting for someone. In the upstairs, if you’ll follow me, the second bedroom is also an area of interest. A fire in the early nineteenth century swept through that room, damaging others around it, and killing the owner's daughter and her lover. Tragic past, but a lot of action seems to happen in that room.”
Heather stopped dead, halfway up the stairs and Gavin turned back to her.
“You okay?” he asked.
Her nod was slow and her face looked pale.
“You’re staying, right?” he spoke softly, only for her ears.
“You have no idea how much I have to. I’ve been looking for this house for years.” Her mysterious answer seemed to give her back her strength and she bounded after the caretaker, a look of excitement chasing away the shadows that for a moment haunted her expression.
Chapter Five
To have finally found the house of her dreams, to have the answers that eluded her for so long now at her fingertips, elated Heather. When she was younger, the fire freaked her out and waking up choking? Horrifying. It was like she died every time she dared close her eyes.
With this many years into the haunting, she was more curious why they called out to her, again and again, reliving the moment they died in her head each night. She understood enough about the dead to know they were begging her for help.
But what could she do?
Her hand rested on a door, having raced ahead of the caretaker, and she knew this was it. This was the room.
The door was different, more modern than the one in her dreams but that would make sense. The door in her dream burnt up.
The caretaker touched her arm. “Yes, this is the room. Supposedly the lovers met in this room and, somehow or another, a fire started. No one knows how or why but the wardrobe—”
“Henry pushed it against the window to keep her from getting out. They were arguing." The words seemed pulled from her, as if she had to say them.
“Uh, yes. So you’ve researched the history of the house?”
Meeting the caretaker’s gentle gaze, Heather bit back a hysterical giggle. “You could say that.”
“Well, there is food downstairs in the kitchen and modern appliances to make your stay comfortable. Is there anything else you need from me?” The caretaker looked at Gavin, drawing Heather’s attention back to him.
Locked in this house. Of all the houses in the world. With Gavin.
But even if she would have run from him, escaped the painful memories of him leaving, she couldn’t run away from this chance to finally have answers.
He shook his head. “No, we’re good. Have a good night.”
He didn’t move as they both stood and listened to the caretaker’s heels click down the stairs. The door closed behind her and the lock engaged with resounding finality. Neither moved or spoke as the sound of an engine in the driveway faded into the distance, leaving the silence of the house to settle around them.
“We should talk,” he finally whispered.
She shook her head this time. “No, let’s not. It’s done. There’s no use rehashing the past. We came for a date and it’s not what we expected. We both want these ghosts, though, so let’s put it all behind us and enjoy this for what it is.”
He looked, briefly, like he was going to argue. The silly, girly part of her wanted him to refute her words. To say something romantic like, “I can’t forget the past, or you. I still want you.”
He didn’t, of course. Men only said things like that in books. Real men did what he did.
He ran a hand through his hair and nodded.
“So, you getting a feeling off this place?”
She grinned. “You aren’t going to believe me.”
“Try me.”
“Remember the dream? The fire dream I told you I’ve had as long as I can remember?”
“Oh, shit!” Excitement lit his features, animating the carved beauty of a face she’d never forgot
ten. “This is it? Henry and Louisa?”
She couldn’t resist the grin that split her face. Her hands shook as she stroked the door. “Yeah, Henry and Louisa. I think we’ve found them.”
“I brought instruments for measuring things…heat, sound, motion—”
“Well, get out a recorder and let’s go in. Save all your other toys.”
He dropped the bag, rummaging, and then held up a small, handheld device. “Got it. I’m bringing the camera, too.”
“Whatever. Are you ready?” She trembled, curiosity overwhelming caution.
“Let’s go.”
She opened the door and was overwhelmed with the smell of roses. In the dream, the only scent she ever smelled was the acrid burn of the smoke as it choked her—Louisa, not her—but in this room, roses.
“They died in here,” she whispered to Gavin.
“Would it be totally weird if I told you I could feel that? Can you smell the flowers?” Gavin’s voice trembled, giving away his excitement.
“Roses. Not just flowers, roses. I never smelled roses in the dream.”
The room was empty save for a huge bed, surrounded by a wooden canopy. In the dreams, the canopy was gauzy material that ignited when the flames licked them to life, fluttering in shreds as the flames engulfed them. Now, heavy wood surrounded it, arching to a gothic style peak that wasn’t period for the house at all.
“What’s in that box?” Striding across the room, past the bed, Gavin headed toward something she couldn’t see. Then again, he topped out at six four and had a good foot on her.
She followed him around the bed and saw a large steamer trunk on the floor. Before she could say anything, he’d thrown it open.
“Sex toys?” he muttered.
Glancing inside, she realized he was right. The box was filled with interesting things from nipple clamps to cuffs to…
“What the hell is that?” She nudged it with a finger.
“I would have to say that is a golden dildo. Is it real gold?”
A shiver of need shot through her. Sex toys plus man you desire does not a platonic conversation make.
Pressing a button on the toy, it came to life, filling the room with the sound of its vibration against the box.
“I would say yes, real gold and yes, fresh batteries.”
“Who has a box like this?” He looked intrigued. “And in a haunted room.”
A voice seemed to whisper in Heather’s ear. They’re things I wanted. It’s amazing what you can make people buy with little nudges. They think, well, it was their idea but aren’t sure why they did it. But I wanted it. I’ve always been excited by erotic things.
“We’re not alone, Gavin.”
He looked up at her, his close proximity making her breath come just a little more harshly. She could smell him, over the roses, a tempting blend of soap and man.
“Someone talking to you?”
She nodded and listened but the ghost, Louisa she would guess, didn’t add more.
“About the toys?” His half assed grin stung her with its familiarity and she brushed hair from his brow, an automatic response to that smile.
“Yeah. Apparently we’ve got a horny ghost.”
“Never met one of those. This could be fun.” He stood, looming over her and running hands down her arms. “You’re still in, right?”
The feel of his skin on hers brought back memories of how wonderful that skin felt heated by passion.
“Yeah, but what could a ghost want with a golden dildo?” She pondered it but the answer came quickly.
I want to tell him I’m sorry. I was a fool, a proud fool, and I want to show him how much he meant to me.
Meeting Gavin’s dark gaze, she choked on a laugh. “Oh, boy. You might not like the plans of this ghost. Then again, she has to get Henry to agree.”
Gavin’s head tilted. He looked like he was listening to someone.
“Um, Heather?” His voice broke a little, sounding startled. “You’re not going to believe this but…”
He paused, sucked in a breath and then laughed. “Is this what you have going all the time?”
“What?" She focused on him, watching the way his face paled. He tapped his head, as if removing excess water, and then looked around.
“Can you hear that?” He continued scanning the room frantically.
“Hear what?” The silence of the house was like a blanket around them, buffering out the world beyond the plantation.
“Seriously, is there like a mute button for this?” He seemed a little freaked out and excited all at once.
“For what?” She waved her arms helplessly.
“Either I’ve just lost my shit and gone loony or a ghost is talking to me.”
She punched his shoulder with a smile. “Welcome to the club, ghost hunter. What did the ghost say? Is it Louisa?”
“Nope. Henry. And, well, he wants to do very dirty things to Louisa. Very. I kind of like the way the guy thinks.” His smile, filled with masculine arrogance, left her wanting to find out, up close and personal, how dirty the things were.
“You’re getting turned on by the ideas a ghost has about sex? This has got to be one of the weirder conversations I’ve ever had with anyone.” Scoffing seemed easier than admitting it tripped her trigger, too.
“Yeah. Oh, shit. Has she told you what she wants to do? Because…he has a plan.”
He looked uncomfortable, as if he wasn’t sure how she would respond to whatever the ghost suggested. Instantly intrigued, she shot a question at the ghost in her own head. Louisa, what is it, exactly, you would like to do?
A feminine giggle, recognized from dreams, rang in her head. The smell of roses became cloying.
“I can’t talk to Henry. He can’t talk to me. But if you help us, I have things I need him to hear, to feel.”
Shaking her head, trying to get past the strong flowery scent, Heather focused on Gavin, the only solid point in a suddenly slightly dizzying world.
What do you want me to tell him? she asked.
The room shifted, seeming somehow less solid than just a moment before, as if her view of things changed and the room itself became lost in the fog or mist.
“You don’t need to tell him anything. I just want to borrow your skin, your flesh, and touch him. Tell him with your voice that I love him. It’s only a loan, dear. May I talk to my love one last time?”
The request sent a shiver of panic skittering up her spine. Heather darted her gaze to Gavin who looked somewhat disconcerted himself.
“Heather?” the question seemed to ask more of her than the one word suggested.
“Is he asking you to borrow your body for the night?”
“Yeah, talk about a blind date. I can fight him off.” The offer trailed off a bit at the end. As if he didn’t want to.
The possibility of touching Gavin once more, of feeling him needing her, seeing his face twisted in desire, even if it was because a ghost hid behind those dark, heavy lidded eyes, tempted her.
“We don’t have to.” The words came out in a whisper. She didn’t dare say she wanted it, wanted him. She couldn’t bear to be rejected by him again.
He caught her face, tilting her head and looking into her eyes. “I’ve wanted you every moment of every day that we’ve been apart. This is me talking, not the ghost. If I can have you for one more night, I’ll take you however I can get you.”
A dazzling light seemed to fill her. “Me too.”
Her words weren’t erudite but they didn’t have to be. His lips covered hers and he thrust his tongue inside her mouth, the kiss sweeping her away. Then he released her, eyes sparkling in desire.
“So, let’s play.” His smile was devilish and she shivered.
This was an adventure. This was danger and excitement and everything that Gavin meant to her.
“I’m ready.”
She closed her eyes and let the smell of roses sweep away her inhibitions, her worries, her sense of self and fill her with the nee
ds of another woman.
And this woman would dare to do just about anything for her lover.
Chapter Six
Her face cupped in Gavin’s hands, she couldn’t think of anything that might feel better than him looking at her like he was.
But the ghost was thick in her head, the smell of roses permeating everything.
I’ve tried this before, Heather. It never works. For us to do this, you have to give up all your control. If you become upset or uncomfortable…you will push me out. You’ve got to trust that I will do nothing to harm you, that your lover won’t do anything to harm you. Can you trust us?
Heather considered. Never one to fear—it was hard to really comprehend fear when she wasn’t afraid of dying since she knew, for a fact, that there were good things coming—she usually dared to do just about anything. But Gavin hurt her like no man ever had before. Could she trust him, especially if he was being possessed by some alpha male ghost from the eighteen hundreds?
Meeting his gaze, falling into his eyes, she wanted to. But it was a risk.
A gamble.
I trust you, Louisa. I’ve had you in my dreams for as long as I can remember. I want you to find peace. And I can trust him, even if just for this night. He wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.
Because he hadn’t.
He freaked. It was like light shining on that truth in her mind. She understood the survivor’s guilt that motivated this man. Understood that sometimes you’re waiting for the epic sign and you get a gentle nudge—like her message from Gavin. It wasn’t her gift—more importantly, it wasn’t her—that he rejected, rather the idea that it could be that easy, after all his work, to find Garrett.
He hadn’t meant to hurt her.
Peace flowed over her, replaced almost instantly by the feelings and emotions of Louisa as she gently took the reins and control of Heather’s body.
****
Gavin knew tonight would be epic and the voice of another man in his head, clear as if he was speaking out loud, could be called just that.
As the ghost explained the rules, that he would have to give over control willingly and not snap it back if he became uncomfortable…that it needed trust, he realized there was not another woman on the face of the planet he would be able to do this with.
Hunting for Love Page 2