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You’ll Understand When You’re Dead: Broken Heart Vampires Book 12

Page 5

by Michele Bardsley


  He didn’t know what had happened last night. He hadn’t meant to let things get so heated, but Natalie was intoxicating. Her vulnerability had drawn him in. He’d wanted to soothe her, to show her ... well, that had been a mistake. He had no right to push the idea of a relationship on her. Especially when physical intimacy came at too high a price. Love with a vampire risked more than the heart, it risked the soul.

  All the same, he needed to go rescue his damsel in distress.

  When Matt arrived at the Emporium, he entered the building and peered down the hall. People entered behind him, and Matt moved to the side to allow them to pass. He caught sight of Natalie rushing toward him.

  She wore a short, white dress and sandals. Her toenails were painted pink. She’d worn her hair down, and it draped her shoulders. For a moment, he was utterly struck by her beauty, and it made him mute.

  “Matt!”

  His name was a rush of relief from her lips, but he wanted to hear her call his name in passion. Need tightened him. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t going to seduce Natalie, despite the fact that he very much wanted her. Damn it. He’d already had this conversation with himself.

  She took his arm and dragged him down the hall, through a dark, musty-smelling corridor and into a tiny room. “They’re going to notice I’m missing soon,” she said. “Something terrible happened this morning.”

  Matt covered her trembling hands. “What?”

  “Another ghost wanting to date me. I, er, put him off by saying I had a fiancé.” She nibbled her lower lip. “I didn’t know that Bettie Smith was standing behind her rose bushes listening.”

  “Bettie?” Matt sucked in a breath. “The fae woman who headlines gossip faster than Yahoo’s OMG!?”

  Natalie nodded. “That’s the one. She thinks we’re getting married. I couldn’t untangle myself long enough to explain it was a ruse, and the next thing I know, she’s arranged a dress fitting and has ordered orchids for the church.”

  Natalie’s cheeks flushed, and Matt tried not to think how lovely it made her look. She was still talking, and he realized he hadn’t heard a word she’d said.

  “Wait. What?” he asked. He swore she said something about a wedding.

  “How would you feel about ‘breaking up’ before the wedding day?”

  “We have a wedding day?”

  “The twentieth. Of this month.”

  “That’s next Saturday.” He should be feeling a lot worse than he did just now. He should be annoyed that Natalie had carried the charade so far, but Matt couldn’t work up sufficient anger. He frowned.

  “Matt?”

  “Okay, Natalie. We’ll break up before the big day.”

  Her gaze softened. The gratitude in her dark eyes wrapped around him, and he wanted to kiss her stupid. He wanted her naked, writhing, and coming apart in his arms.

  “We’re going to have to sneak out,” she said.

  Matt guided Natalie out into the hallway, and they hurried toward the exit. Just as they reached the double doors, Matt heard, “There’s the lovebirds now.”

  Natalie tensed then turned around, her troubled gaze colliding with his. He took her hand and held it tightly.

  “Hello, darlings,” Mrs. Smith trilled as she marched toward them. “Natalie, we must speak about the photographer. And I talked to Lenette at the Three Sisters Bed & Breakfast. She can host the reception. Isn’t this wonderful?” She turned to Matt. “Our Natalie is quite a catch. Good thing you snatched her up when you did. I heard she’s had men just knock, knock, knocking at her door!”

  “Yes, well...” Matt noticed Bettie’s smile had the force of a laser beam. It was bright and steady and aimed right at him. Natalie looked as stunned as he felt.

  Bettie stood in front of them, her hands on her hips, looking at Natalie then Matt with narrowed eyes. “We’ll need pictures of the reception, too, I think. Matt, do you like purple? I’m terribly fond of purple ... do you like orchids?”

  “What?” Matt asked, staring at the tiny, elderly woman. She looked remarkably like a Drill Sergeant—despite that peach hat covered with baby’s breath that matched her peach dress.

  “She’s a black hole,” Natalie warned in low voice. “She’ll suck you in, and your will to live disappears.”

  “Of course, Kimmie will be the maid of honor,” Bettie was saying. Her bird-like gaze landed on him. “Who will be the best man?”

  Sweat broke out on his brow. He leaned down and said, “Let’s run for it.”

  “It’s not going to be that easy,” Natalie whispered.

  “The hell it’s not.”

  A crowd of elderly women formed behind Bettie. Some held bridal magazines like shields. Where in blazes had they all come from? Matt eyed the old lady in front of them with a growing respect. The sergeant had called in the troops.

  “I’ve gathered some of the girls to discuss the wedding arrangements. Natalie, do you have a few hours? We need to choose the music. How do you feel about the harpsichord?”

  “What are you waiting for?” Natalie hissed in his ear. “Run!”

  And Matt did, pulling his fake bride after him.

  Natalie and Matt sat in the booth at the darkest corner of the café. The cracked vinyl seat wasn’t comfortable, and it didn’t help that Matt had squeezed beside her. He wore shorts, and the warmth from his flesh crept through her dress. She felt bathed in lava even though the air conditioner vent above their heads emitted an ice-cold breeze. And she didn’t have blood circulation, so obviously her attraction to the psychic had reached nuclear proportions.

  They each held a plastic menu to hide their faces.

  “Did they see us?” asked Natalie.

  “I think we’re safe.”

  Natalie looked at Matt and shared a conspiratorial smile. His thick-lashed green eyes had flecks of gold around the pupils. Beautiful tiger-eyes. She finally managed to tear her gaze away from Matt’s only to find it riveted to his sexy, full lips.

  Matt leaned against the seat. His muscled, tan arm slid along the worn wood edge of the booth until she felt his fingers in her hair. His touch was light and disturbing. And wonderful.

  “They’ll find us in here,” she said. “There are only two eating establishments in the entire town. We can’t hide here forever.”

  “True. But we need nourishment if we’re going to fend off Bettie and her battalion.” He eased back, finally giving her some room. “Doesn’t she remind you of rabid terrier?”

  Natalie laughed. She shifted, grimacing when the vinyl stuck to her legs. Her short dress was useless protection against the seat.

  “Hello, Natalie.”

  She looked up and sighed. “Jerry.”

  Without invitation, the ghost slid into the booth. His hound-dog features looked pastier in the bad light of the diner.

  “Still getting married?”

  “Yes,” Matt said with a possessive edge.

  Surprised, Natalie glanced at Matt. He put his arm around her shoulders, fiddling with the spaghetti strap of her dress. The warm, lazy strokes tingled her skin.

  Jerry’s expression drooped.

  “Well, here’s the happy couple.” Dottie the Ghost, a regular fixture in Broken Heart, pouted her bright pink lips in mocking accusation. She usually hung around Patsy, gave the vampire queen advice she didn’t want, and caused trouble whenever she could. Dottie was determined to have a fun afterlife since her earthly life had been so crummy. After all, she’d been killed by her truck driver boyfriend.

  “Please tell me Bettie isn’t behind you,” said Natalie.

  “Don’t worry, sweetie. They got distracted by the skeletons.”

  Natalie and Mattie stared at the ghost.

  Dottie lit a phantom cigarette and blew out the smoke. It amazed Natalie how many habits spirits kept after they left their corporeal forms. “I’m guessing they came from the graveyard. There’s not a lot meat left on ‘em to be zombies.” The voluptuous redhead slid into the booth next to Jerry. �
��What’s shaking?” she asked the sullen suitor.

  Jerry blushed.

  Matt continued the soft touches, slipping a forefinger under her dress strap. Natalie felt a prickle zip down to her girly parts.

  “So,” said Dottie, her gaze taking in Matt’s wandering fingers. “Are you waiting for the big day to do the nasty?”

  Natalie nearly choked on her spit. “Dottie!”

  “Well, you haven’t bonded. I can always tell when vampires are mated.” Dottie studied Jerry as the amorous ghost took in the redhead’s beauty. She smiled winsomely.

  “This is Jerry,” said Natalie. “He’s visiting.”

  “Well, that’s just fine,” purred Dottie. “You want me to show you the sights, honey?” She winked at him.

  “Yes,” said Jerry. “Definitely.”

  “Have fun, lovers,” said Dottie. She put her hand on Jerry’s rumpled jacket, and the two ghosts faded away.

  “Poor Jerry doesn’t stand a chance,” Matt murmured.

  The intent look in Matt’s eyes belied the teasing tone of his voice. Natalie felt as if she’d been swimming in a strong current, and now the undertow was dragging her down.

  Thankfully the food arrived, and Natalie concentrated on her chicken fried steak instead of Matt’s disconcerting presence. Chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes dripping with homemade gravy, and thick, steamy biscuits were weaknesses of hers. Now that she was a vampire, there was no such thing as calories or bad-for-you food.

  Without ceremony, Matt dug into his meatloaf.

  They ate in silence, which held a thread of tension she didn’t understand. Some time between hiding from Bettie and the conversation with Dottie, something between she and Matt had changed. She shoveled a particularly huge, dripping bite into her mouth.

  “You look like a chipmunk,” he said.

  She chewed, barely able to swallow the meat. It finally went down, and she cut a smaller bite. “Shut up.”

  Matt laughed.

  Natalie bit into a biscuit, sighing at its hot, fresh taste. “This is the best part of living in Broken Heart.”

  “Nat!”

  Natalie looked up, her mouth full of biscuit and saw Jessica and Eva chugging toward them.

  “You look like a chipmunk,” said Jessica.

  “Are you two getting married?” asked Eva. “Bettie Smith couldn’t tell everyone fast enough.”

  “You’d think you’d tell us first,” said Jess. “Have you had sex, yet?”

  “Oh, dear lord.” Natalie stared down at her plate.

  “No,” said Matt. “Look, it’s a long story.”

  “Oh, you’re telling us the story,” said Jessica. “But you’ll have to do it at the PPTA garage sale.”

  “PPTA?” asked Matt.

  “Paranormal Parent-Teacher Association,” explained Eva. “You’re still going, right?”

  Natalie had completely forgotten about the event, and that she was supposed to provide snacks and donate items. Shit.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’ll be there.”

  Jessica stabbed a finger into the air. “You both will be there.” She gave Matt a narrowed-eye look. “Don’t you dare break her heart, or I will chop you into little pieces.”

  Matt swallowed the bite of food that had caught in his throat. Natalie took in his expression. He’d probably never noticed before how scary Jessica could be. He nodded.

  “Good. Because no one would ever find your body.”

  “Noted,” said Matt faintly.

  Chapter Seven

  “How did my own mother get engaged and not tell anyone?” Kimmie lamented as she, Jenny, and Tilda spread vinyl tablecloths over card tables. The annual PPTA garage sale was held at the Three Sisters Bed & Breakfast at sundown. Tilda’s aunts had wasted no time putting the teens to work.

  “Yeah. Makes the whole ghost dating thing really awkward,” said Jenny.

  “Look, your mom will be here soon,” said Tilda. “We’ll stick the juju bag on her person, and the ghosts will be repelled. Later on, we’ll perform the binding ritual and get rid of the ghosts for good.”

  “I bet Patsy could get rid of them,” said Jenny.

  Tilda and Kimmie stared at her. “Are you trying to get us grounded?” asked Kimmie, horrified.

  “We’re going to be grounded anyway. Not one of us will walk away from this without parental fury being unleashed.”

  Tilda shook her head. “I got this. The ghosts disappear, your mom is safe, and hey, she has a man just liked you wanted for her.”

  Kimmie felt hot tears well up in her eyes. “I just wanted her to have someone good. She doesn’t know that I know, but my dad is the one who got her killed. It’s his fault she’s a vampire. He fed her to his stupid boss!”

  “Oh, Kimmie. I’m so sorry.” Jenny hugged her.

  Tilda patted her on the back.

  She sniffled, feeling somewhat better...until she saw who was sauntering up the driveway, and had a moment of panic.

  “Ohmigawd. It’s him,” said Kimmie.

  “Mr. Dennison?” asked Jenny, turning around. “Oh, you mean loverboy.”

  “Shush.”

  “Whose loverboy?” Tilda craned to get a good look. “It’s just Hayden Wickam. You like him? But he’s such a nerd.”

  “Okay,” said Jenny, pulling Tilda by the arm. “We’re leaving.” She dragged the girl all the way to the front porch and disappeared into the house.

  Kimmie’s heart pounded as the boy neared. He stopped, tucking his hands into his jean pockets. As he looked at her, a lock of brown hair fell across his forehead.

  “Hello, Kim.”

  His use of her formal name sent a delightful shiver through her. Kimmie leaned against the table, crossed her arms, and pretended to be bored. “Hi, Hayden. What are you doing here?”

  His mouth quirked. “Reporting for duty. Dad insisted.”

  Kimmie flushed then ducked her head to hide her embarrassment. Hayden’s dad was a local doctor for the human population in Broken Heart. “Oh, yeah. Help. Right.” She felt stupid and disappointed. But why had she thought he would come just to see her?

  “Yeah, help,” he said. He stepped closer and brushed her hair away from her cheek. Kimmie looked into his brown eyes and felt like she was going to melt into a big, goopy puddle.

  He leaned closer, and she could smell the peppermint on his breath. “Kim. I was wondering—”

  “Yes?”

  “The new theatre in town is playing Shaun of the Dead. And I know you’re so cool and everything.” His tone was teasing and nervous. “But I thought you might want—”

  “Hayden.” Dr. Elliot Wickham clasped his son’s shoulder. “We’re going to sticker the electrical items.”

  Hayden smiled at Kimmie and shrugged apologetically. As he turned to follow his dad, she snagged his T-shirt. “What were you going to ask me?”

  “I’ll ask you later.”

  Kimmie’s heart skipped a beat as she watched Hayden walk up the driveway with his father. Her pulse continued to race. Hayden had been about to ask her to the show and had chickened out. Darn it. Why were boys such wimps?

  Matt carried another box from Natalie’s garage and shoved it into the back of the minivan. The night was typical of August in Oklahoma: hot and muggy. Even at night, it made no difference in temperature, but the heat enhanced the scent of fresh cut grass and honeysuckle that perfumed the air. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, and watched Natalie tirelessly lug an armful of clothing to the car. She flashed him a grin before returning to the garage.

  He and Natalie seemed to be the only people outside. By the looks of it, everyone else had wisely decided to stay indoors. An odd quiet stole through the small neighborhood, making Matt feel as if he and Natalie were only human beings left on Earth.

  Matt looked at Natalie, who flitted around the garage like a butterfly in a field. He watched her bend over a stack of magazines and saw the white dress rise... rise...he swallowed as the material dangled over
her derriere, swinging provocatively as she dug around in the pile of stuff. She turned, holding a gold candlestick holder as triumphantly as an Olympic athlete holding the Torch.

  He had an insane urge to flip up that damn dress and— “Do you want to take a break?” he called out.

  Natalie put the candlestick in a carton and walked toward him. “There’s still stuff to do,” she said, handing him the box.

  He put it in the van for her, but before she could get away, he grasped her by the elbows and drew her close. “C’mon. Even vampires should take a break from hard labor.”

  “I’m a vampire and a mom, which means I really don’t get any breaks.” All the same, she leaned into his embrace, apparently content to be in his arms.

  Just one taste. He’d take just one tiny taste of Natalie Haltom. Before he could stop himself—as if he wanted to—he pressed his mouth at the hollow of her throat, and kissed the pale, cool flesh. She inhaled sharply and grasped his shoulders. Matt nipped kisses up her neck to her jaw, flicking his tongue on her skin.

  “Matt, please.”

  “Please what?” he whispered. He pulled her closer, looking at her wide amber eyes. He lowered his head and traced her trembling lips. When his tongue demanded entrance, she yielded, and met him with her own tentative touches. Desire twisted inside him, a spiraling need that claimed him until all he could feel, all he could breathe, was Natalie.

  She broke the kiss and sagged against the back of the minivan. He put his arms on either side of her head and leaned down, feathering kisses along her cheek to the corner of her mouth.

  “I want you, Natalie,” he said in a jagged voice. He took her lips in a fierce possession, showing her with his mouth what he wanted to do with her body.

  Her hungry little moan destroyed his already flagging willpower. Somehow his shirt had become unbuttoned and Natalie’s cool, eager hands stroked his chest. The sensible voice in his head cited all the reasons he couldn’t make love with Natalie Haltom, but she chose that moment to explore the waistband of his shorts, and he forgot everything but the woman in his arms.

  “Hey, folks,” a man’s jolly voice chortled.

 

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