Whispering Hearts

by Cassandra Chandler

  It had been the most abrupt dodge she had ever done. She’d felt his breath ruffling her hair as she stepped away. The awkwardness of the following moments had been brutal—she still hated herself for letting it happen and putting him through that.

  “Lyra is filled with double stars.” She started to talk just to hear something other than her own thoughts. “It’s really a fascinating constellation. If I’m remembering correctly, Vega is the third brightest star visible from the Northern Hemisphere.”

  He stood up straight, but didn’t move away from the telescope. And he still didn’t say anything back.

  “But you didn’t want an astronomy lesson. Right.” She fished around for anything to say instead. “Have you ever heard of Tanabata?”

  “Can’t say I have.”

  “It’s a celebration in Japan that involves Lyra. There are a bunch of myths about the stars Vega and Altair being lovers separated by the Milky Way. My favorite version portrays Vega as a Celestial Maiden who fell in love with a human. When her father found out, he forbade them from being together and put the Milky Way between them to keep them apart.”

  Even in the near-darkness, she could feel the tension build in him. A warning sounded in the back of her mind, but her momentum carried her forward. It was a beautiful, sad story.

  “On the seventh day of the seventh lunar month, the Sky Gods take pity on them and create a bridge of magpies so that they can be together. I guess technically that would make it take place in August, but if you go by the Gregorian calendar and wanted to celebrate it here, Tanabata would have been yesterday.”

  “It sounds like a sad thing to be celebrating.”

  “They’re focusing on the time the lovers can be together. You can look at the bitter or look at the sweet.”

  “Take what you can get, huh?” He snorted and shook his head, then walked back to the table. He picked up his beer and held it for a while before taking a drink.

  The idea of a star-party for two had been impulsive, like almost everything Rachel did. Instead of making Garrett feel better and easing any embarrassment or tension between them, she had only made it worse.

  “I’m guessing you aren’t interested in lessons on Japanese culture and religious festivals either,” she said.

  “I was actually thinking we could just enjoy the view.”

  “Sure.”

  Like she had enjoyed the view earlier—especially watching him walk to the canal. She doubted she would find any dust on his exercise equipment, either. Judging by his backside, he must do a few dozen squats every day.

  The assessment of her plan to ease the awkwardness between them with some stargazing shifted from failure to dismal failure. It wasn’t even keeping her mind off his body. And the more she thought about his body, the harder it was to resist him.

  The last thing Garrett needed was to get involved with her. It would condemn him to a life filled with the dead. He deserved better.

  Rachel was skirting the issue, trying to avoid or deny what had happened and hope it would go away on its own. It was how she dealt with everything in her life—her powers, her family issues, even her feelings for him. For once, she wanted to face something head on and just deal with it.

  “Listen,” she said. “We should probably talk about what happened earlier.”

  “It’s been a full day. You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

  “The thing with the scorpion. How I behaved.” She wasn’t surprised when he stayed silent. “I’m sorry I kept staring. I didn’t mean to. It’s been a really long time since I’ve seen a naked man and well, you’re just…”

  She lifted her hands toward him and waved them up and down like she was showcasing his physique. “It was difficult to look away. But I should have. And I’m sorry.”

  She forced herself to pause so that he could respond. Silent moments dragged on, time seeming to dilate as she shifted from one foot to another. Finally, she couldn’t take it.

  “Aren’t you going to say something?”

  “That’s a lot to process. How could you have not seen a guy naked when—” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t go there.”

  “When what?”

  “Well, you were pretty serious with…”

  The hair on her arms stood on end. Her stomach cramped, the pasta from dinner feeling like a lead weight.

  “Michael.”

  She didn’t blame Garrett for not wanting to say the name. She didn’t want to say it, either. But she refused to let Michael have power over her anymore.

  Garrett let out a huge breath of air and ran his fingers through his hair, holding it back from his face. “I don’t want to bring up bad memories.”

  “No, it’s all right. Talking about it is supposed to be healing.”

  He shrugged and let his hand drop to his side. “But you don’t have to push yourself. You can take your time. As long as you need.”

  “I don’t want to take my time. I don’t want to still be talking about this a year or even a month from now. I want to move on with my life.”

  He nodded and simply said, “Okay.”

  Rachel walked over to him and sat in one of the patio chairs. He sat next to her. She picked up her beer and took a long drink before she began.

  “Michael told me he wanted to take things slow. That was fine with me. I didn’t want… Well, I haven’t done more than kiss a guy for a couple of years now.”

  Garrett sat back, his eyes wide and glittering in the light from the candle on the table. He let out another huge breath that he must have been holding, and shook his head.

  “I’m glad you didn’t…” He shook his head. “I’m glad you don’t have that to work through on top of everything else.”

  “Me too.”

  Her chest felt tight, but the dread in the pit of her stomach was lessening. Talking to Garrett was lightening the burden she carried. And it seemed to be doing the same for him.

  “I know I’ve been dating a lot, but none of those relationships were serious at all. I was trying to distract myself more than anything.”

  “From the ghosts?”

  She felt her eyebrows rise, the warm citronella-laced air tickled her tongue as her mouth dropped open. The candlelight couldn’t be covering her reaction. He had to see it too.

  “Among other things.”

  He had asked for her honesty, but telling him how she felt about him would ruin their friendship. Worse, it would make him even more impossible to resist because he would want to take action based on that knowledge.

  Then he’d be stuck with a weirdo who could see spirits and constantly spouted awkward factoids. When she wasn’t pretending to be a socialite at the beck and call of her somewhat—totally—evil mother.

  “I’m dealing with a lot,” she said. “I understand that. But it isn’t as much as you think. I had already broken up with him.”

  “What?”

  She shivered at the memory. Michael had been calm when she told him. He said he understood and wished her the best. He only had one request—that she sit for him so he could make a portrait to remember her by.

  At the time, she’d thought of the paintings in his gallery room. His opening show consisted of a dozen portraits of women in painterly style. The portraits evoked despair, with the women having distorted bodies and either hiding their faces or keeping themselves turned away from the viewer.

  As grim as they appeared, the dark red and gray paint he used hid a more disturbing secret—he had mixed the paint with the blood of his victims, the subjects of each painting.

  He had started Rachel’s portrait before she was rescued.

  She’d ignored her own misgivings when he asked her to sit for him, like she ignored the voices of the dead around her. She was too practiced at ignoring things. She had agreed and gone with him to his house. />
  “It might have accelerated things,” she said. “After I told him.”

  Garrett looked like he was going to snap his beer bottle in half. She reached over and took it from him, then set it on the table.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m having trouble with my poker face. I don’t want to make this harder. I want you to be able to talk to me.”

  “You don’t have to put on a face for me. I guess that’s what makes our friendship so special. We can both let our guards down.”

  “I suppose. I still appreciate you sharing this with me.”

  “I want you to know that I’m doing better than you think.”

  “Yeah. I kind of noticed when you lit into your mom.” He smiled, one side of his mouth curving up and a deep dimple appearing in his cheek.

  Oh she had missed that dimple. She wondered if she could bring out the other one. But that would be a bad idea. His smile was devastating. It made her want to crawl into his lap and kiss him.

  “That kind of surprised me too,” she said.

  “It was a long time coming.”

  “Jazz says she’s going to give you a big discount on the next piece you buy for getting me out of my mother’s house.”

  “That was all you. I only gave you a lift.”

  “And a place to stay and the motivation to finally do something.” She couldn’t believe how much her life had changed just since that morning.

  “Yeah, but you’re still the one who did the work. It took courage to walk out of that house—way more than I understood at the time.”

  “I feel like I had help. Watching Jazz over the years and how she doesn’t take crap from anybody has been very educational. It was like I was channeling her or something.”

  “Not literally, right?”

  She knew he was joking by the way his smile deepened. Dimples… Keeping her focus on the conversation was difficult, but she managed.

  “No. That would require training to be a medium. I’m just psychic.” A thrill went down her spine and she shivered. “It’s strange to say it out loud. But it feels good.”

  “I’m glad.” He leaned closer and asked, “What’s it like? If it’s uncomfortable to talk about, you don’t have to answer.”

  “I don’t think you could ever make me feel uncomfortable.” Her voice had a bit of breathiness to it she hadn’t intended. Consciously, anyway. She laughed and looked away.

  “Give him a kiss.”

  Rachel was so caught up in the moment, the quiet voice caught her off-guard.

  “It’s obvious you want to. Him too, from the looks of it.”

  Rachel leapt to her feet.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Garrett rose right after her.

  “Someone is here.”

  “Who?”

  “I didn’t mean to ruin your moment.” The voice was male. He sounded older, genial.

  She didn’t care if he sounded like a super-friendly grandpa. Rachel shook her head, then ran to the house. She kept her eyes shut tight as she approached the glass doors. Whoever it was, she didn’t want to see him in the reflection from the candlelight.

  Seeing always made it worse.

  Scrabbling for the handle, she managed to slide the door open and jump inside. She still couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes and bounced off something—probably Garrett’s recliner. As upset as she was, she couldn’t remember the room’s layout.

  She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around her middle, waiting for Garrett to come to her rescue—again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Garrett ran after Rachel and shut the door behind them. When he turned back around, she was huddled in a ball on the floor.

  “It isn’t Michael, is it?” he asked.

  She had said Michael was gone, but with the way she reacted, Garrett had to wonder. His hands kept flexing into fists. If it was…

  If it was, he couldn’t do a damned thing about it. His insides boiled at the thought.

  “The water bottle,” she said. “Spray down the door.”

  He grabbed it and did as she asked, then knelt at her side. “It’s done.”

  She was trembling, shaking her head. She started to rock back and forth, like she had at the hospital. He did not want to go down that road again.

  “I’m going to touch your back,” he said. He gently placed his hand on her back and let out a little breath when she didn’t scream or jerk away. “Do you still hear the voice?”

  “No. I don’t.” She shook her head again and her rocking slowed.

  Garrett rubbed her back, trying to soothe her.

  “All right, then. Rachel-1, ghost-0.”

  She stopped rocking, but the trembling increased. At first he worried he had made things worse, but then he realized she was laughing. She leaned toward him. As soon as her shoulder touched his chest, she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck. Her eyes were still pinched shut.

  He sat and pulled her into his lap.

  “What can I do?”

  “I’m just trying to build up my nerve to open my eyes again.”

  Garrett glanced around the room. “I don’t see any reflections.”

  She pressed herself closer to his chest and opened first one eye, then the other, looking around carefully. She let out a huge breath and leaned her head on his shoulder.

  “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  But it was a problem. Rachel curled up in his lap with her arms around him, her face nestled close enough that her warm breath fanned his neck… Biology took over. He had never held her so close, felt her press herself against him this way.

  He shifted beneath her, trying to get more comfortable and keep her from noticing his predicament. The citrus scent of her shampoo was driving him crazy. He could tilt his head a few inches and kiss her if he wanted to. And he did want to.

  Trouble was—he wanted a whole lot more than kisses from Rachel.

  Desperate to distract himself, he asked, “Do you know who it was?”

  “No. I didn’t recognize the voice.”

  That was a relief.

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand how he found me so fast.”

  “I still don’t know how it works. Do ghosts have to…walk to where you are? How do they even get around?”

  “They sort of will themselves to go places—if they aren’t tied to a person or place. If the ghost is haunting a location, they’re usually stuck in one spot. But if they’re haunting a person, they can follow them around. If the person dies or somehow severs their connection, the ghost is free to roam.”

  The thought of people being haunted… And the voice was male. Garrett’s stomach tightened. Maybe the ghost wasn’t tied to Rachel at all. Maybe it was him.

  “Were there any other distinguishing characteristics?”

  She shook her head. “He sounded older. With a bit of an accent.”

  Garrett felt some of the tension ease from between his shoulders. If the ghost sounded older, it wasn’t Dylan. The thought of his brother’s spirit lingering for so many years was more than Garrett could deal with on a good day. It had been a long time since Garrett had experienced a good day.

  “What did he say?”

  “Nothing scary.” Her face reddened and she looked away. “He didn’t even ask me for anything, which is kind of strange. Ghosts usually are pretty fixated on getting what they want. He actually reminded me of Hiram.”

  “Hiram?”

  “He was the only ghost I ever became friends with. He watched over me. In life, he had been an astronomer. He’s the one who taught me the constellations.” She smiled, her eyes getting a faraway look. “We would sit out back and look at the stars and talk for hours sometimes.”

  No wonder she loved the scope so much. Garrett doubted her mom
had been more loving when Rachel was younger. At least Hiram had been there.

  How messed up was it that the most supportive adult in her childhood had been a ghost?

  “Could it be him?” Garrett asked.

  She shook her head. “No. Hiram crossed over decades ago.”

  “You sure about that?”

  Her eyes filled with tears that immediately spilled over.

  Dammit. He wished he would stop stumbling into topics that obviously caused her so much grief.

  “I was there,” she said. “He did it to protect me. He was always protecting me. He’s the one who told me to act like I couldn’t hear spirits anymore and helped to convince the others to leave me alone.”

  “Why do I have a feeling there’s a lot more to that story and I’m not going to like it?”

  She laughed and leaned against his chest again. “Because you know me better than anyone.”

  Sometimes he felt that way. Sometimes he felt he didn’t know her at all.

  “Could Hiram have come back?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Garrett let out a sigh. “I have a lot to learn.”

  “You can borrow some of my books if you want. I’ve managed to collect a few good resources over the years.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll go get you some. Could you bring in the telescope? I can help put it away after we spray the door again.”

  “Don’t worry about any of that,” Garrett said. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “You’re really good at taking care of people.” She lifted her hand to his face, resting it along his jaw.

  He tried to stop himself from sucking in a fast breath—and failed. Her smile faltered and she shifted away.

  She braced herself on his shoulders as she rose. It was all he could do not to reach for her and pull her back. She didn’t say anything else as she walked away.

  Garrett sat on the floor for a few minutes, trying to find a sense of equilibrium. A frantic night at the ER was nothing compared to the emotional toll of being this close to Rachel.