She nodded and resisted the urge to look away.
"Can you find her?"
Her entire being shied away from that idea. Nothing ever good came out of finding the dead.
When she was younger she'd done her best to help the police by locating the remains of spirits that had come to her. Slogging through woods and swamps, and blindly following ghosts. Eventually, they moved on to the other side while she stayed behind and endured sidelong glances and whispered conversations.
Max changed tactics. "What about the sleepwalking. You said that's new?"
"It's all her," Rosie told him and finally looked away. "My accident..." she trailed off and tried again. "I came around the corner and she was right there, just standing in front of me." She turned her eyes back to him and felt the ridiculous sting of tears remembering what she'd seen of the woman's death. It had been truly horrible. "I tried not to hit her. I dumped the bike but I still slid right through her."
He lifted a hand to her face, his thumb stroking her cheek.
"I can't touch them," she whispered, her lower lip trembling. "I touched her and it was awful. Now she won't leave me alone. I see her in the woods and in my dreams. In my dreams I'm following her, through the woods and into the water."
"And then you're in the water?" At her nod, he asked, "Is that where she is?"
"I don't know. He killed her in the woods"
"Who killed her?" He sat up, alarmed. "Rosie, someone killed this lady?"
She pressed her hands to her throat. "He squeezed so tight. So hard."
“How do you know that?"
"When we touched, I saw how she died. Now she won't leave me alone and everything's been totally out of whack."
"When we went to Smith's Cove you couldn't hear me. Was that her?"
"It's just water. All I can hear is water in my ears."
“How do we get her to go away?" His voice was firm.
She didn't miss that he said 'we'. "It’s never happened to me like this before so I don't know. I wish I did," she told him. "Jay's trying to help, with the crystals."
"Somehow I don't think crystals are going to solve the problem."
She agreed but was willing to try anything.
"What happens if we try to find her?"
At best, she got run out of town and became known as a lying charlatan or at worst, a raving lunatic.
"How do I explain that?" She asked. "Finding a dead body? Are you ready to go out looking for a corpse?"
"Dallas-"
"Is a cop," she interrupted. "He'd have a million questions I wouldn't be able to answer."
"He'd believe the truth, baby."
"No, he wouldn't," she argued. "And even if he did, I'm not prepared to be the police department's go-to psychic bloodhound. I don't want to be used and then called a fraud if I'm wrong. I don't need to be talked about and laughed at behind my back."
His face held a trace of awareness. "You've worked with the police before."
"I tried. It didn't work and I won't go there again, Max. I won't. I don’t want Dallas to know."
"Then we need to find another way because you can't keep getting dragged to the cove. That's not safe."
She shrugged, not sure how to take his help.
"You said you had a dream about what happened here. Is that part of the ghost thing? The thing with the lady in the woods?"
She shook her head. "No, that's something else."
Rosie watched him carefully knowing it was too much, too fast.
"We don't have to talk about that," she offered, giving him an out. "We don't have to talk about any of this."
"I don't know anything about ghosts. I don't know anything about whatever kids of dreams you're having. You're going to have to give me a learning curve here."
"It's okay," she assured him. "You don't have to worry about it. I have to get going to work soon anyway."
"Will you stop doing that?" He sounded put out. "Will you stop telling me everything's okay? Like that gives me permission to not worry about you. I worry about you, Rosie. I'm going to keep worrying about you. Probably even after we get this shit figured out so you're going to have to get used to it."
She had no answer for that other than to argue that he was wrong and doing that would get them nowhere.
"Sometimes I have dreams about things that haven't happened yet."
"Like seeing the future?" His eyebrows were nearly to his hairline.
"Something like that," she said, thinking about the woman from her dream.
"And you had a dream you needed to come here?"
She thought about the woman that looked exactly like her and the exploding fireball.
"Yeah," she answered simply, leaving the rest out.
15
Since she wasn’t working late hours anymore Max offered to pick her up from the bus stop after work. She refused, but promised she’d swing by on her way home. She went to the office and worked on paperwork for a while before having a run in with Wendy.
“Where the hell have you been? Max was in the hospital and you didn’t even show up.” Wendy stormed into the office she’d given Rosie.
“Obviously, you haven’t talked to your brother,” Rosie answered.
“Not today, no,” she admitted. “But he and Dallas were looking for you like crazy yesterday. Why didn’t you stick around?”
“Sticking around isn’t really my thing.”
“You saved his life.” Wendy’s voice was soft. “I could have given my friend a hug for saving my little brother’s life.”
“It wasn’t a big deal, Wendy.”
“It was a huge deal.”
Rosie waved her off. “It’s fine. Did you need me for something?”
“Yeah,” Wendy was giving her a look like she’d lost her mind. “I needed to give you a hug for saving my brother’s life. I just told you that.”
“Oh,” she looked wary. “I thought that was just something people said.”
“No, you lunkhead, it’s something we’re about to do. Come on.” She held her arms open. “Bring it in.”
“Can I file this as workplace harassment?”
“Only if you want me to bug the crap out of you for the rest of the day.”
Rolling her eyes, Rosie stood and gave Wendy a loose hug while Wendy squeezed her tightly. “Thank you, Rosie. Thank you.”
“Okay.” She tried to pull away from the embrace. “I get it. You’re welcome.”
Being thanked for saving Max’s life seemed crazy to her. It’s not like she would have to let him die if she could do anything to help it.
When she pulled away, Wendy was smiling. “So. You’ve been hanging out with Max?”
“What?”
“You said, ‘Obviously, you haven’t talked to your brother’ when I asked about not seeing him, which means you’ve seen him.”
Spent the night in his arms, Rosie thought with a little zing in her chest. “I did. We had breakfast this morning.”
Wendy did that ridiculous eyebrow bob. “And I assume he thanked you, too.”
By holding her up against her camper and pressing his erection into her core. “He made me an egg sandwich.”
She rolled her eyes. “What a loser. I thought he’d at least try to romance you. I’ll have to talk to him.”
“I’m all set on the romance.” She was too afraid to tell Wendy what was really going on with Max. She’d never had a girlfriend before and she didn’t really know how that was supposed to work. Would she be embarrassed when Wendy asked a million questions? Would she feel silly for not being more experienced? Would Wendy tease her because Max was her younger brother and that was a strange dynamic? There were too many variables she wasn’t sure how to navigate and so she didn’t do it at all.
Besides, what was going on with Max? It wasn't like she had any idea herself.
Wendy sat on the edge of Rosie’s desk. “Someone hurt you really badly didn’t they?”
Rosie swallowed audibly and looked back at her pape
rwork. Yes, she thought in answer. They had. Just not in the way Wendy thought.
“I keep wondering why a woman like you doesn’t go out at all and doesn’t want any friends. You don’t want to work near anyone or even work hours where you have to be near anyone. All I can think is someone must have really hurt you.”
“We all get hurt at some point, don’t we?” She answered vaguely.
“We do.” Wendy considered with a nod of her head. “I haven’t removed myself from social situations or society all together though.”
“It’s nothing that extreme Wendy. I’m just not great with people, that’s all.”
“Somehow, I doubt that.” She changed the subject. “The Martin’s were very happy with your work last week. They asked about bumping their service up to twice a week.”
“That’s good.” Rosie smiled.
“How’s working days? Treating you okay?”
“It’s been fine. I meant to ask you what the schedule will be next week with Thanksgiving.”
“Everyone’s got the day off, you know that. Most of our clients are closed through the weekend so we’ll all get a few days off. I’m thinking the beginning of the week we’re going to be running ragged.”
“I was thinking the same thing. I’m going to put in a few extra shifts if you don’t mind. I want to sure we get everything done.”
“You don’t have to do that. It should be okay.”
“It should be, but if they aren’t and the girls need an extra hand, I want to be there.”
Wendy sent her a smile. “That’s why I put you in charge.”
Max was waiting on his porch swing when she stopped by after work. It was eight and pitch black, the light on her handlebars lighting her way.
“I really hate you riding that road at night,” he told her when she climbed the steps.
She sat next to him, enjoying the feel of his arm when he put wrapped it around her shoulder.
“I really appreciate you not making a big deal about it even though you hate it.” She knew it must have been hard for him. He would want to take care of her, it was his personality, and it spoke very much to his self-control to not take over and just come pick her up anyway.
“How was your day, dear?” He joked.
“Pushing papers and cleaning toilets. Yours?”
“Weeding the gardens and shoveling shit,” he replied with a smile in his voice.
His foot pushed them gently back and forth.
“Your sister gave me an earful and then tried to hug the life out of me.”
“She’s an emotional rollercoaster that one.”
“How can she be so nice all the time? Even when she’s mad, she’s nice.”
Max didn’t answer, just kept swinging them back and forth.
“I’m just a maid but she’s still giving me a chance to grow based on who I am and what I can do, not where I went to college.” Or didn’t go, as the case may be.
Max squeezed her a little closer.
“She’s just a great boss.”
“She’s your friend, baby. You’re going to have to say the words eventually.”
“What is this that we’re doing here, Max?” She asked out of the blue. “You keep calling me baby.”
He kissed the back of her head. “You want me to call you something else?”
That was not her point and no, she absolutely didn’t want him to call her something else. When he used that endearment it twisted her up inside and made her feel unbelievably special.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“You want to know what we’re doing,” he mused as they looked out over the expanse of the front yard. “We’re hanging out and getting to know each other.”
“Sometimes, I feel like you’re trying to save me.”
“I am,” he admitted. “Just like you’re saving me.”
She let out a small laugh. “What do you need saving from? Goats?”
“No. From being lonely. From not taking the time to see what’s out there in the world. I went to sleep a few weeks ago thinking my sheep was skittish. Now I know that isn’t the case. You’re teaching me things, Rosie. You’re saving me from being closed minded.”
“Do you want to be saved?”
“By you? Hell yes.”
Again, her growling stomach interrupted them.
“Are you always hungry?” He laughed.
“I haven’t eaten dinner yet,” she defended.
“What were you going to do? Go back to your camper and eat popcorn?” She looked vaguely guilty. “Jesus. Come on. Time to eat.”
She took her usual seat at the counter as he pulled out leftover pasta and meatballs.
“Sauce or no sauce?” He asked.
“Sauce.”
He fixed her a plate and set it in front of her. “You want a soda or something?”
“Water?”
She twirled the pasta around her fork and ate with gusto. The meatballs tasted homemade and she swore, when she was done eating she’d ask if he made them himself. She added some cheese and had more pasta and then took a slice of the bread he’d put out.
“Did you eat lunch?” Max was watching her with wide eyes.
She shook her head no and covered her mouth with a napkin as she finished chewing.
“Sorry. I’m being a pig. I’m just starving.”
He held out his hand in invitation. “Pig out all you want. I think it’s sexy as hell.”
She rolled her eyes. “There isn’t much about spaghetti and meatballs that’s sexy.”
“Yeah, but we could work on that. I’m thinking about the trail of sauce a meatball might leave if I were to say, roll one across the skin on your stomach.”
She looked up sharply to see that hot look in his eyes again, his vague aura pulsing the red of passion and she knew he was telling the truth.
“I never thought anyone could make the word meatball sound sexy,” she told him with a smile. “Did you make these meatballs yourself, by the way?” She took a daintier bite of pasta this time.
“I did.” His eyes watched her mouth as she put the fork in and slid the pasta off.
She covered her face. “Stop!”
“What?” He laughed.
“You know what!”
“I can’t help it. You’re sexy. I like a girl with an appetite.”
“Well, I like to eat but you can’t watch me like that.”
“I might have to turn around then.”
“I’m done anyway.” She pushed her nearly clean plate away. “But no more of that.”
“Meatballs?” He asked, his voice clearly indicating he wasn’t talking about the meatballs.
She threw her napkin at him but he caught it and put it on the counter. He then pulled her plate over to himself and finished it off.
“What are we watching tonight?” He asked as he polished off the last of her spaghetti.
“Oh, am I hanging out here tonight?” She asked, taking the now empty plate and bringing it to the sink.
Max followed and wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled her neck as she washed the dish.
“I was hoping so,” he said. “But if you’re tired or just want to go home, I’ll bring you.”
“No.” She was quick to answer. “I want to hang out. But I have to sleep in a bed tonight. My back is killing me from that couch last night.”
He turned her around brought his face close to hers, rubbing the tip of his nose along the length of hers. “I have a bed here.” His voice was soft and tempting.
She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of him so close to her.
“I’m not having sex with you tonight, Max,” she told him.
He pulled back just a tiny bit. “I didn’t say anything about sex. Get your mind out of the gutter. I was talking about sleeping, like we did last night.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you really think sleeping in the same bed is a good idea?”
“I think it’s the best idea I’ve had
all day.”
“Well, that makes one of us.” She pressed her hands against his chest and pushing him back a few inches. “I mean it when I say I don’t want to sleep with you, like that, tonight. I don’t want to be pressured or have an ‘oops, it just happened’ kind of moment.”
He leaned further back, giving her more space. “Do you think I’d do that?”
“I just don’t want there to be confusion between us in this. I know a lot of girls-”
He pressed a finger to her lips which she’d always thought was strange when she saw it happen on TV but in real life it was sweet because he followed it up with a kiss.
“You aren’t a lot of girls. You’re you. I don’t expect anything from you other than your always interesting company. If you sleep here tonight, it will be totally PG.” He screwed his face up. “PG-13. We’ll cross those other bridges when we come to them." He planted a quick kiss on her lips. "You set up the tv. I’ll make the popcorn.”
It was much later when Max was pulling her off the couch.
“Come on, sleepy girl. Let’s go to bed.”
She trudged up the stairs. He showed her to his bedroom and the attached bathroom.
“You can go in here. My toothbrush is in the holder. I’ll give you a couple minutes.” He left the room giving her privacy to use the facilities and brush her teeth. When she opened the door, she recognized the room from the last time she’d been there, after Max had found her wandering down the side of the road. She pushed the thought from her mind.
Max had left her a pair of gym shorts on the bed and she slipped back into the bathroom to put them on. It was a big, spacious bathroom and had obviously been remodeled recently. The fixtures were all new but the antique claw foot tub remained, the centerpiece of the room. When she was changed, she went into his room and waited for Max to come back.
A minute or two later the door pushed open and he came in, smiling when he saw her sitting on his bed. He leaned in and kissed her. “Let me brush my teeth and I’ll be right back.”
“Which side do you sleep on?” She asked, hoping to get into the bed.
“The middle,” he laughed as he went into the bathroom.
“Uh oh, me too,” she answered, slipping under the covers right in the center of the bed.
Chasing Happy Page 14