by Deanna Chase
I frowned. How could sex dreams be interpreted in any other way than wanting sex? “Can we get to that later?” I stalled. “I’m dying to know the results you got.”
“Sure.” Ian’s face lit up as he sat down on the floor and spread files all around him.
I laughed. “Very professional.”
He grinned. “Take a look at this.” He handed me a photo of my apartment.
“What am I looking at?” I peered at it, seeing nothing unusual.
“Now look at this one.”
I gasped. “Oh, is that him?” The same scene reflected back at me, only this time I was in the photo with a silver outline of what looked like a person standing next to me.
“I’d say so. Here are the rest.” He handed me a small stack. “Remember I told you all we got were some EMF readings here in your apartment?”
I nodded.
“I’d sent this out to be developed and forgot to pick it up. The digital didn’t capture what the manual camera did, so we thought we didn’t have a shadow image. But now we have the proof. Isn’t that great?”
All of the photos without me in them were imageless, and all of the ones with me had a silvery outline image. “I guess.” I frowned. “Does this mean he follows me around?”
“Maybe.” Ian passed a chart of numbers to me. “From the photos it looks like he might, but we have no way to tell if he leaves the apartment or not. It’s possible he has more energy when you’re around, causing the outline.” That scenario didn’t make me feel any better.
He pulled out a chart. “See here?”
Two columns of numbers were lined up side by side. “Uh-huh.”
“Look at how the numbers don’t seem to change much.”
“Okay.” I had no idea where he was going with this.
“The numbers are a reading from an EMF detector. It reads the Electromagnetic Field. We use it to pick up paranormal activity. Do you follow?” Ian glanced up.
“I think so. These numbers are telling you there’s paranormal activity?”
“Yes. That’s the theory anyway. These numbers here—” he pointed again, “—are in the range of four to six. That’s the area we look for. These charts are the readings from before you entered the room and after. See how they don’t change a great deal?”
“So they didn’t change a lot, which means he was likely here but stronger when I entered the room?”
“Exactly.” Ian beamed, no doubt pleased I’d caught on.
“That’s better than the alternative. I’m not crazy about being stalked by a ghost.”
Ian shrugged. “It’s possible he does follow you sometimes. These are just the readings we got that day.”
“Not what I wanted to hear. I’m going to assume he stays here in the building.” It’s what I wanted to believe and let’s face it; the scientific readings hardly seemed, well, scientific. “Did you get any interesting readings in the club?”
Ian started bouncing on his heels, going from excited to downright giddy. “Oh, yeah. Look at these.”
More photos. Again, pictures of the empty club, then pictures of my silver shadow and me.
“Now look at these.” He handed me a third stack.
“Wow, that’s weird. Pyper has a shadow too, but hers is a darker gray. Is that a different ghost?”
Ian shrugged. “I’d bet it is the same one.”
“Even though the outline is a different color?”
“Yes, ghosts take their energy from those around them, so he would appear different depending on whose energy he’s feeding from.”
I nodded. Being in the position to feel and sometimes see people’s energy, I perfectly understood his explanation. “Okay, but why would he be following both of us around?”
Ian shook his head. “Good question. Maybe he thinks she’s sexy.”
A sudden bolt of jealously struck me. I’d come to think of him as my ghost. He invaded my dreams with love and devotion radiating off him each night. So why was he following Pyper around? I knew it sounded crazy, but his emotions were doing a number on me.
Snap out of it, Jade. This is a ghost you’re thinking about. Just a dream lover. A very sexy dream lover.
Kane’s face flashed in my mind, and suddenly I felt like an idiot. Here I was sitting with Ian, my date, and I was jealous of Pyper over a ghost and thinking of Kane.
I put the whole thing out of my mind. “All right, that’s enough ghost talk for now. You ready for dinner?” I asked.
Ian checked his watch. “Yep, our reservation is in twenty minutes.” He got up and held a hand out to me.
***
“You brought me here because it’s haunted?” I sipped from my wine glass and looked around Muriel’s, the famous restaurant Ian had brought me to.
“You haven’t heard the story?”
“No.” I glanced over my shoulder as if I expected a ghost to appear.
Ian laughed. “A lot of the restaurants are said to be haunted. It’s unavoidable with the sordid history of New Orleans.”
“I bet,” I said. “Have you done scientific measurements on any of them?”
“I’d love to, but no, I haven’t had the opportunity.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned in. “When I choose a restaurant I always pick one rumored to be haunted, hoping for a sighting.”
A shiver ran up my spine. That was the last thing I wanted after my recent experiences. “Do you ever see any?”
“Nothing definitive, but there have been a few occasions that made me wonder.” Ian’s eyes got big and sparkled with excitement.
“Ever see anything here?” I bit my lip and glanced around again.
“No, but I love coming to check it out. It’s said the guy who built this house lost it in a poker game. Before he turned his home over, he hung himself here. People say he still haunts the place. I’d love to get a glimpse of him.” Ian craned his neck, studying the exposed inner courtyard.
“See anything?”
“No. Not yet.” He twisted around to check behind him toward the front lobby.
I set my almost empty wine glass down and signaled to the waiter for more. Great. Just what I needed. A ghost hunting exposition. A small sigh escaped my lips.
When the waiter came back, I had him leave the bottle.
Ian spent the entire meal giving me a verbal ghost tour of the supposed hauntings in the French Quarter. By the time dessert was offered I’d had enough. It was a rare evening when I wasn’t tempted by cheesecake. But I didn’t want to continue watching Ian crane his neck, waiting for something unusual to happen. People were starting to stare.
“Ready to go then?” he asked, signing the check.
“Sure. Where to?”
“Frenchmen Street. Let’s walk.” He held out his hand.
I took it and stifled a groan. I didn’t mind walking, really I didn’t. In fact I liked it, except when I have my sexy date heels on.
After seven blocks a blister had formed on my left toe, causing a mild limp.
“Are you all right?” Ian asked.
“Oh sure, just not the best walking shoes.” I grimaced. It was my own fault. Nobody drives in the French Quarter. I made a mental note to buy more sensible shoes. Yeah, right.
Embarrassment washed over him. “I’m sorry, Jade. I didn’t think about that. We’ll take a cab back.”
“Sounds good.”
“You’re gonna love this place,” Ian said when we finally made it to the front of a club. “It’s one of the best places to hear music and maybe catch a ghost sighting.”
Great, just what I wanted to hear. “More ghosts?”
“You never know.” Ian took my arm and led me to a table in a corner. After we placed our drink order, he scooted his chair closer and leaned in. “This is nice, right?”
“Sure.” The music was slow and soulful, successful in bringing people’s emotions to the surface. Mostly they were pleasure-based, but sadness also worked its way in. I put my guards up, wary of being wo
rn down.
Ian slid his arm around my shoulder, letting his fingertips caress my arm. I closed my eyes, enjoying the music and the sensation. This date might still be salvageable.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
Opening my eyes, I smiled. “Thank you. You’re looking pretty good yourself.” Ian had dressed in all black. Black pants, black button-down shirt and black Converse shoes. It worked for him, highlighting his blond hair and clear blues eyes, now staring intently into mine.
“You are the first woman I’ve taken out who really gets me,” Ian whispered in my ear.
“Oh?”
“Uh-huh. Most of them don’t understand the ghost thing.”
“As in, don’t believe? Maybe they just don’t have any experiences with them?”
Ian tilted his head. “Probably. But it’s more than that. You accept me for me. That’s rare, you know?”
I did know. More than I could explain. I nodded.
“Most women I meet can’t accept my passion is ghost hunting and not climbing the career ladder. It must be because you’re an artist. Your living isn’t exactly conventional either.”
I laughed. “No, it isn’t. But that can’t be rare in New Orleans?”
Ian moved a lock of hair from my eyes. “No. Not really. There’s something a little bit different about you. I haven’t put my finger on it yet. But I like it. I like it a lot.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, making me grateful for the dim lighting.
Ian brushed his fingers along my jaw line then tilted my face toward his. As he leaned in his eyes flickered slightly toward the stage. “Oh my God!”
I followed his gaze. “What?”
“Do you see them?”
“Who?”
“The two people on the left? The woman and the man? There’s a faint outline of them.”
I squinted, searching the stage. I didn’t see anything. “I only see smoke.”
Ian frowned as he glanced at me.
“Sorry,” I said. Though I wasn’t. While I understood Ian’s excitement, ghosts were not on my list of things I wanted to experience. Enough was enough.
“It’s all right. Maybe they’ll appear again.”
For the next two hours Ian stared diligently at the stage, only speaking to relay tales of previous ghost sightings at the club. After catching me covering up a yawn, Ian reluctantly paid our tab and had the doorman call us a cab.
The ride didn’t take long and within minutes, we pulled up to the corner of Bourbon Street closest to Wicked. As usual, Bourbon Street was barricaded, with the street party in full swing.
“Looks like a busy night,” Ian said, helping me out of the cab.
“Looks like it.”
“I’ll walk you to your building.” He put his arm around my waist, guiding me as I hobbled on my blistered feet.
When we reached the building entrance I stopped. “I think I’m safe from here.”
“Oh, okay then.” His disappointment penetrated my defenses.
“Thank you for the nice evening. Dinner was excellent.” At least, the food and wine was.
Ian smiled. “You’re welcome. Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
“Sure.” I pulled the door open. “Goodnight, Ian.”
He leaned in, and I automatically turned my head slightly to the left. The kiss landed on my right cheek.
“Night,” I said again. “I’ll talk with you soon.” Before he could say another word I scooted through the entrance door, pulling it closed behind me. Thank God that was over.
“Have a nice date?”
I jumped. “What the hell are you doing? Spying on me?” I glared at Kane.
“Why would I do that?” He backed up in front of the stairwell, effectively blocking me from going to my apartment.
“No idea. But why else would you be skulking in the hallway?”
“I’m not skulking.” Kane crossed his arms, a mix of irritation and amusement floating around him.
I rolled my eyes.
“How long have you been dating Ian?”
“I’m not dating Ian.” What the hell? Who did he think he was? I tried to move past him but he put his arm out, blocking me.
“You just went on a date with him. That’s dating where I come from.”
“Fine, I’m dating Ian.” Irritated, I flung a hand out, gesturing to the stairwell. “Can I go up to my apartment now?”
“I didn’t picture you with a guy like that.” Kane’s eyes stayed level with mine.
“You were picturing me with guys?” I smiled, my irritation replaced by smug satisfaction.
“No.”
“Okay, sure.” My smiled blossomed into a grin. “Excuse me, but these feet are ready for some pampering, so if you’ll kindly move—”
“This was, what, the second date?” Kane asked, still blocking the stairwell.
“What? No. The first,” I said, caught off guard.
“Huh, I must have been mistaken.”
I smirked, remembering the night Ian stayed over. “Why are you so interested?”
“I’m just wondering why.” He shrugged.
“Why what, exactly?”
“Why you’re dating him?”
“Because he asked.” I pushed past him and paused for just a moment. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Chapter 10
Sitting at my computer, I took a big bite of my freshly made omelet. My hangover specialty. I wasn’t nauseous, so I knew it wasn’t really a hangover, but I’d woken up with a headache. Maybe the smoke in the jazz club caused it. More likely, it was Ian and his nonstop ghost hunting. Or possibly the latest dream I’d had—but I didn’t want to think about it.
I went for a second cup of coffee, leaving my breakfast on the desk. As I poured the drink, a loud knock sounded on the door.
Checking the peephole, I bit my lip, took a deep breath and opened the door. “Good morning, Kane.”
“Morning.”
“What’cha got there?” I eyed two paper coffee cups and a pastry bag.
He held a cup out.
I inhaled the sweet honey spice of chai. “You’re my hero!”
“Mission accomplished.” He set the bag on the counter.
“Breakfast, too?”
He nodded.
I picked up the bag and peaked inside. “Chocolate muffins? That’s not breakfast, that’s dessert. You’re sweet, but my breakfast is right there.” I pointed to the desk, trying to behave.
Kane looked to my omelet then back at me. “Aren’t you going to share after I brought you a chai?”
My gaze shifted from the plate to the muffins, and I shrugged. “Sure.” If I was going to be polite and eat the muffin he brought me, I needed to save some room.
I grabbed another fork, returned to my desk and cut a line through the middle of the omelet. “That half is yours.”
“Don’t trust me?” he asked with mock surprise.
After claiming a spot on the couch, I gestured for him to join me. “Nope.”
Kane’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. Damn, that was sexy. My heart melted.
Lost in my own thoughts, I missed what he was saying. “Huh?”
“You forgot your chai.”
“Oh yeah, thanks.” I grabbed the cup and a muffin and reclaimed my seat. “What brings you by this morning?”
“The ghost report.”
Damn it. Why did my life have to be all about the ghost? I sampled my chocolate muffin, and then relayed the information I’d learned from Ian.
“The ghost is attached to Pyper too?”
“I don’t know. He apparently likes her since he showed up in her photos.”
“I better tell her.” Kane got up, taking the plate to my sink.
“All right. See you later.” I waved from the sofa.
He lifted one eyebrow. “Trying to get rid of me? And after I brought you breakfast?”
“Uh, no…I just thought you said you were…never mi
nd.”
“Do I make you nervous, Jade?” Kane walked toward me.
“No.” I stood up, concentrating on the cinnamon flakes in his eyes.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“In that case, have dinner with me tonight.” His voice held a bit of a challenge.
“What makes you think I don’t have plans?”
“Considering you ditched your date last night without inviting him up, I’m not too worried.” However, nervous energy radiated off him like static. If I hadn’t had my special ability I’d be thinking he was a smug bastard right about now.
My lips turned up in a little smile.
“Is that a yes?”
“I’m thinking it over,” I said, enjoying myself.
“Hmm, let me convince you.” The nervous energy vanished, replaced by determination and confidence. He leaned in, eyes locked on mine. I stood motionless as one arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me close. He bent his head, bringing his lips inches from mine. I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing.
His lips brushed mine while his free hand trailed down my bare neck. My body shivered against his, and he chuckled softly. Closing my eyes, I focused on the nerve endings, which sent electric shocks through my body.
“Tonight at eight,” he whispered.
“Okay.”
His lips clasped my lower lip, sucking almost painfully, until a small moan escaped my throat. At the sound he crushed me to him, tongue exploring. I molded my body to his unyielding frame, desperate to be closer. The passion of my nightly dreams sparked a fierce intensity, propelling the aching need deep in my center.
He pulled back. “Eight it is.”
“Huh?” I looked up, dazed and breathless.
“I’ll pick you up at eight for dinner.”
“Right. Dinner.”
Kane leaned in, brushing a soft kiss over my cheek. “Thanks for breakfast.” Then he left.
“Holy Jesus.” I stared at the door. A flash of light to my right startled me. The apparition grew into the shape of a person, glowed to a bright gold, turned red then melted into a blob on the floor before evaporating.
Leaning back, I put a hand over my eyes. “This is too weird.”
Feeling like I was being watched, I headed to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and took off for the studio.
***
Sweat trickled down my back as I fumbled with the key in the doorknob. “Damn it! Come on.” Glancing at my watch, I groaned. Only twenty-five minutes until Kane was due to pick me up.