by Petrova, Em
“What? I don’t have the big city education you do, man.” Linc knew what Nick meant but didn’t want to even think about it.
“You beat yourself up over a stupid, really stupid, mistake you made years ago. Sure, you deserved your punishment, but you got it. Move the fuck on, man. You deserve a second chance. Take it. If you like this woman, ask her out.”
Nick’s words made everything seem so simple, and Linc had been thinking about second chances just yesterday, when he was feeling so restless. The restless feeling had left as soon as he’d pulled up in Vanessa’s driveway, though, hadn’t it?
The seed was planted, but did Linc dare let it flourish?
“Hmmm…” was Linc’s only response—the only thing he could think to say. Before he could elaborate, a familiar, cloying floral scent greeted his nose, right before Cindy’s talons ran up his chest.
“Hey, baby…” she purred in his ear, sending stale beer and old tobacco across his face.
Grabbing her hand, Linc stilled it before it started a downward descent. “Hey, Cindy.” He sent a beseeching glance at Nick, but he just snickered and turned his back on them.
Cindy and Linc had begun a mutually beneficial ‘thing’ a year ago, when he’d gotten desperate for feminine companionship and nobody else in town would give him the time of day. Of course, they’d rocked along for the better part of a year, and on the surface, it was still what it started as: itch-scratching.
“You up for some fun tonight?”
“Naw, Cindy. I’ve got to start a job tomorrow and need to get up early. You go ahead and find somebody else.” Linc jerked his chin at the truck-drivers in the corner table, and she reluctantly pulled away.
“’Kay.”
It was weird; she seemed to handle rejection well and didn’t let it faze her. Like a tenacious puppy with a bone, he knew she would come back tomorrow. Or later tonight.
He finished his beer and called out a goodbye to Nick before leaving. Maybe he would start that book before going to sleep tonight.
Or maybe not.
Chapter Eight
Linc was up early the next morning and loading his trailer to take to Vanessa’s house. He told himself he was just doing his job, but as he filled the three-hundred-gallon water container for her until he could re-plumb the house, he admitted he was going above and beyond, trying to make her comfortable. Especially with loaning her the generator. Yesterday, she hadn’t looked like she’d slept all that well, and he hoped he could provide something to ease her. Some part of him wanted her to stick around a while and not get scared off, see if she would give him the second chance he so desperately needed.
But another part of him was afraid she would be like everybody else and unable to forgive past mistakes.
At any rate, today was the first of many full days of work. Work he wasn’t sure he would see if he managed to screw things up. So he was doing his best to suck up to the boss lady without letting things get out of hand.
Two hours later, when he pulled up in front of the old Evans cabin, he tried not to grin at her obvious joy at the container of water he was leaving with her. She looked like she’d slept better, the spring in her step showing off a rested body.
A curvy body he wasn’t going to think about—much.
“How’s your leg?”
“It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt at all,” she said as she ducked into the house and returned with two cups of steaming hot coffee. “I cannot thank you enough for letting me use the generator.” Her grin was infectious—making his heart pound a little harder in his chest—and Linc’s grin answered.
“You’re welcome. I can’t imagine you sleeping in this creepy-ass house with no electricity.” He saw a shadow cross her face before she smiled again, not as brightly as before. “What? Did something happen?” This damn town. Ghosts everywhere. Everyone knew about them, but few people actually acknowledged them. And now they were going to scare off Vanessa.
“No, it’s stupid, really,” she hedged, looking into her cup. Linc wanted to take her in his arms, as dumb as that sounded, but he did. So he nudged her with his elbow instead. “Okay, the first night I slept in my car because the closet door upstairs scared the hell out of me.”
He wanted to laugh but could see she’d been legitimately frightened, and he couldn’t blame her. “When I was a kid, we used to dare each other to sleep here,” he told her quietly, squashing the desire to hug away her fear. “The house looked all spooky and stuff, and we told each other there were sinister things inside.” Smiling, he continued, unsure of how much she knew. “Of course, there’s nothing any worse in there than there is in town, but we messed with each other endlessly.”
“That’s some serious daring. I’m not sure I could have done it without the generator last night.” She shuffled her feet around on the porch. “I slept with my lamp on. I think I’m going to get a dog.” She smiled at him shyly, and the dimple in her left cheek sang a little song to him.
“I might be able to help with that. Anything in particular?” Nick from the bar was friends with Sheriff Asshole and last he’d heard, there were puppies at his ranch.
She shrugged. “Something big that won’t eat me in my sleep but will keep intruders away.”
He winked at her. “Gotcha.” He gulped down his coffee, scorching his throat. “I’m going under the house to start replacing pipes.” Handing her the empty mug, he shuffled down the steps and out to his trailer for his tool box before he got more attached to the woman letting him peek at her vulnerability.
Shortly afterward, Linc was crammed under the house, relieved at being away from Vanessa and her deep brown eyes and that fucking dimple. Jesus. As he yanked old copper pipes down from their brackets, he tried desperately to get the look in her eyes out of his mind. But he couldn’t.
His reactions to her were so visceral, they were uncontrollable. He wanted nothing more than to stroke her sweet curves, kiss those soft lips, make her moan. He spent most of last night reading that damn book she’d given him, imagining Cole and Katy were none other than he and Vanessa. Linc had even entertained the idea of using some of Cole’s moves on Vanessa, just to see if they would work.
The first move was easy. Cole had pushed Katy away, which was all Linc wanted to do right now. As much as he wanted Vanessa, he knew a relationship with her wasn’t plausible. Pushing her away just made the most sense. He was confusing himself. If he pushed her away, how in the hell would that get her in the end? Did he even really want her, or was he just that hard up for something meaningful in his life?
He smashed his finger, mumbled a curse, and then a shadow passed across the opening to daylight.
“You okay?” Vanessa’s light voice broke into his ruminations and he cursed again as she started squirming under the house next to him.
It was too small, too cramped of a space for both of them, he desperately thought as he felt her softness writhing next to his body, scooching up to be eye-level with him. This was a no-brainer. He definitely wanted her.
“What are we doing today?” He could see her gleaming teeth as she smiled in the dimness. So close to him, he could just lean over and kiss her.
“I’m taking out all these old pipes in your kitchen so I can put in the PVC,” he gritted out. Linc was hard as a fucking rock with her squeezed next to him. He had just enough room to roll over and take her in his arms. Squeezing his eyes shut, he slowed his breathing.
“Cool,” she said, and he’d be damned but she was feeling this shit, too. He felt her tiny hand as it brushed against his thigh and he hissed in a lungful of air. Holy fuck.
“Look, there’s really not enough room for both of us down here,” he managed to sound unaffected by her presence. Pushing her away was suddenly the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“But I thought you were going to teach me what you were doing?” He could hear the question, the woman next to him trying not to be hurt.
Fuck it. “It’ll be faster if I do this part myself. Other
wise, we’ll be down here all week.” And Jesus, wouldn’t that be heaven? He heard her sharp inhale and resisted the urge to kiss her to soothe the hurt he was about to cause. “Why don’t you go upstairs and clean some more?” Wow. That sounded harsh even to him. But Cole was an asshole, and it had worked to push Katy away in the beginning of the book Vanessa had loaned him. Then Katy had come back to him, begging. The image of Vanessa on her knees begging Linc very nearly sent his erection into his teenaged years, threatening to blow his load in his pants. Not that that ever happened, but it sure felt like it was about to.
She didn’t even try to hide the harsh exhale, and Linc wilted a little. “Fine,” she gritted out, and he smiled with grim satisfaction as she writhed her way back down the side of his body.
“Look, Vaness—” He tried to apologize for his brusqueness, but she cut him off.
“I get it. I’ll go do something girly while you beat your chest down here doing man’s work.” He wasn’t sure, but he thought she might have whispered “asshole” as she crawled out.
It hadn’t worked like he’d thought, or had it? Had he gently nudged her away to have her come back to him? Or had he totally ruined everything? Linc felt like a fucking —idiot—with experience with women, whatsoever, with absolutely no idea what he was doing. He told himself this was for the best, that there was no way they could have a future together. He knew she was a good girl, one who deserved more than the physical attention he could give her. She needed a husband, someone with a solid foundation, someone who the town respected.
And that wasn’t him, by a long shot. He wished he could be that guy. But wish in one hand and shit in the other and see which one filled up first. That was one of his dad’s favorite sayings—one Linc had to remind himself of.
Vanessa stomped around inside the house, sending dust and dirt raining down on his face with every step. No less than he deserved. He could still hear her as she cussed him. It was good she thought poorly of him, right?
Chapter Nine
“So there’s all sorts of rumors with the old folks talking about Union Soldiers making a stop here after the Civil War on their way home. I really wish I could find evidence of that. I could make a stunning exhibit.” Kristie was leading Vanessa around her museum, obviously at home here. Vanessa could see why it was a good fit for the socialite’s skills. The work which had gone into the exhibits was exceptional. The museum was an old school, and each classroom was designed around a theme: African American history, with newspaper clippings, old photographs, and memorials to freed slaves, lynchings, and the Civil Rights Movement. There was one for life in the early twentieth century, complete with an old still from the bootlegging days. There was a room about the beginnings of Mystic, when it was initially settled by frontier people traveling from the big cities back East. Each room was meticulously researched and arranged to make a visually appealing, educational experience. Vanessa could spend a week in here and not see it all.
“Hello? Kristie, where are you?” Melanie’s voice rang out from the front of the school/museum.
“We’re back in the Depression era!” Kristie hollered back. When Melanie came in, dressed in a pencil skirt and heels, Vanessa was glad she’d dressed up for her lunch outing. Next to Kristie in her skinny jeans and heels, along with Melanie’s work attire, Vanessa didn’t feel too out of place with her flirty knee-length skirt and sandals.
“I thought I would never get out for lunch. Working with Joe seemed like a good idea when we first got married, but after eight years, I’m ready for some alone time, even if I have to spend it with you bitches.” Melanie’s smile countered her words, and Vanessa felt the warm flush of acceptance. “Have you shown her the basement, yet?”
A wicked grin crossed Kristie’s face, and she said, “No. Not yet.” Spinning on her heel, Kristie led the way down a spooky flight of stairs. “Come on.”
With more than a little trepidation, Vanessa followed. Even with all the updates and decorations, there was nothing that could hide the fact this was an incredibly old building. With all the talk of ghosts here, Vanessa had yet to see one, even though the constant prickle of unease kept her watchful. She still didn’t know exactly what to think about the whole ghost thing. She’d decided she might have one in her house but was still on the fence about everybody in town having one. That seemed more than a little far-fetched. Although, if there were a ghost anywhere, it would be here.
This building was just fucking creepy.
Melanie broke the dreadful silence as they descended the stairs. “How’s the writing coming, Vanessa?”
She sighed. “Not as good as I’d like for it to. The house has a lot of distractions.”
Melanie chuckled low in the back of her throat. “I can think of a major distraction. His name is Linc Ward.”
“Yeah, there’s that, too.” Vanessa didn’t want to talk about Linc. She was still confused about him. He seemed almost too broody for words and made her not-so-excited about doing anything with him. He was worse than a PMSing woman, with his crazy mood swings. But then he would go and take off his shirt or something, and she couldn’t stop herself from having insanely inappropriate thoughts.
“What made you start writing?” Kristie broke in as she came to the bottom of the stairs and pulled out a ring of keys to unlock a large door.
Vanessa shrugged. “I was having a hard time finding that one book that would change my life. So I started thinking about writing it and talked about it a lot. When my mom read an article about the indie revolution, she’s the one who suggested I go for it. So I did. I started writing my first novel for public consumption.”
Kristie’s eyes widened. “Wow. My mother would never do something so cool as to support my individuality like that. What does she think now? Has she read it?”
A pang hit Vanessa, and she looked down. “She died in a car accident before I published it.”
Kristie reached for Vanessa’s hand, clutching it. She didn’t say anything as Melanie reached around and rubbed her back. Ridiculously grateful for the lack of empty platitudes, Vanessa bit her lip and smiled weakly.
Melanie reached up and yanked a handful of Vanessa’s hair, the sharp pain radiating through her scalp.
“Ow! What the hell, Melanie?” Vanessa turned to the woman, who must have thought things were getting a little heavy. But she looked entirely innocent of hair-pulling.
“That was probably Edgar. He pull your hair?” Kristie asked. “The basement has a lot of ghosties, but Edgar is always the first to come out and make his presence known.”
Vanessa looked around. The basement was full of boxes and piles of junk, all of it musty and old.
“Okay. Sorry, Melanie.”
“No worries,” Melanie turned to a stack of boxes on the table behind her. “This some new stuff?”
“Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll get to it, though. It’s a bunch of arrowheads and stuff from Mr. Henshaw’s estate. His son says they’re Comanche or something, but I haven’t gotten a chance to look at it. Wouldn’t that make a cool room?”
Melanie’s eyes lit up, and the women eagerly discussed the possibilities of a Native American exhibit in the Mystic Museum of Historical Culture while Vanessa listened. She had to admit, she only half-listened; her eyes were too busy darting around, looking for ghosts.
Judging by the floors, the basement had been a gym at one point, and it was now filled with shelving around the edges, all neatly stacked with boxes, catalogued and labeled. Tables were set up with various items on them, obviously in the process of being sorted for either storage or exhibition. Something on one table struck Vanessa as out of place, and curiosity got the best of her. She walked over to get a closer look at it.
On yellow legal pad paper, was one word, written in what looked like blood. Without thinking, Vanessa held it up and waved it at Kristie.
“What’s this?”
Kristie’s eyebrows came together as she frowned. “I don’t know, what is it?” Walking
over, she grabbed the paper, and read the word—BORED. Her lips thinned in a line across her face as it paled. “This wasn’t here yesterday.”
“Should you take it to the sheriff’s Office?” Melanie asked.
“I think so. Someone must have broken into this room to leave it. I don’t like the idea of someone messing around down here. Liabilities and stuff.”
“A ghost couldn’t have done it?” Vanessa wondered aloud, finally giving in and drinking the Kool-Aid.
“They don’t manipulate physical things like this. They’re not into creating scary stuff, typically. That looks like blood. Should you be touching it?” Melanie said. Whatever she did for her lawyer husband, she’d totally missed her calling. Vanessa decided she really should have become a teacher. “They’ll leave stuff lying around or make a scent or vision, but they’re more into touching, though. Not writing notes. I’ve never heard of one doing that, anyway.”
Kristie murmured agreement. “I’m taking it to Tate. You coming?” She looked at Vanessa, who shook her head, suddenly not hungry.
“No. I should get home. Linc’s probably waiting on me to give him the next job.” Besides, she honestly didn’t need an excuse to get out of this creepy-ass basement. Not after finding a note written in fucking blood. A shudder ripped up her spine, and Vanessa turned to leave. “You’ll be okay? Is your fiancé coming to pick you up?” She felt bad for ditching the lunch date, but between the note, the ghost, and the creepy surroundings of the basement, she honestly didn’t have much of an appetite left. She just wanted to go home and be around familiar stuff.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” It had come to her attention that her fiancé didn’t like her driving around and drove her everywhere. It was weird to Vanessa, but whatever. Not her life.
Vanessa scurried up the stairs and walked across the street to where she’d parked her car, still trying to shake off the heebie jeebies from finding that note, taking deep breaths to calm her stomach. When she saw Linc on the sidewalk ahead of her, she started to wave, but then saw Cindy clawing at his arm. Vanessa’s steps faltered. She hadn’t thought they were together together and seeing them now took her aback.