I snorted and turned back to my Indian. “Good thing I’m not here to find a girl then.”
Tom chuckled. “Won’t matter. She’ll have you wrapped around her finger before you can say ‘Ghostbusters.’”
I shook my head and set my tools down, then straddled the bike and kicked the starter. The engine roared beneath me, and I grinned.
“Nice.” He stood and slapped me on the shoulder. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The alternating rain and fog lingered for days. The weatherman called it a stationary low. Tom called it atmospheric. I called it wet and depressing. The upside was that I got to know the layout of Eyre House pretty well—the worst of the creaky floorboards, the dark corners. The downside was that I still had no idea what the grounds really looked like, and every time I went outside, I was soaked in seconds. I hadn’t even seen the beach yet, even though I could smell it, and I could hear the distant sound of the tide bell ring clear through the fog.
Still, I loved falling asleep to the thunder and the rain. And Tom was right—it was atmospheric. So atmospheric that I started seeing faces and shadowy figures in the swirling mists. Didn’t help that Tom found me every day to tell me another ghost story.
I woke up one night to the steady sound of rain on the roof and the heady smell of ozone and saltwater. I could almost hear the cannon fire and shouts from Tom’s latest story, some battle between Spanish pirates and a fledgling American Navy. I lay in bed for a while, until it became obvious that sleep was going to be as elusive as the rum smugglers that had run the coast. I figured maybe a drink and a walk would help clear my head.
The floorboards felt cold under my feet, a product of the wet spring and constant lack of sun. At least I’d learned to avoid the worst of the squeaks as I made my way down the back stairs and into the kitchen. The pitcher of sweet tea in the fridge was tempting, the bowl of freshly sliced lemons next to it hitting me with their pungent scent even through the plastic wrap. But since it was sleep I was after, I decided to leave it in favor of water.
I filled my glass up from the filter on the tap, and stared out the window at the storm. Not that I could see much. Just darkness and fog and rain in front of me, and the creaky settling of the house behind. Even the tree frogs had finally taken cover, leaving an unnatural silence behind the storm. I yawned and took a last drink before tossing the rest in the sink. I was happy enough to be tired again.
I had just set the glass on the counter and begun to turn when something in the window caught my eye. Movement. I leaned in closer. Nothing. Just darkness and more rain.
Until the silence shattered into snarling growls loud enough to wake the dead. Two giant paws and a mouth full of teeth pushed up against the glass, startling me. I landed on my ass on the stone floor just as the hound from hell vanished again.
“No fucking way,” I muttered to myself. Pushing back up on my feet, I scrambled into the hall and towards the door, yanking it open. Outside, the warm rain thrashed at me, turning cold as I peered through the gloom.
Nothing. Not a damn, fucking thing.
It didn’t take long for it to register that I was standing outside in the middle of the night, in nothing but a rapidly soaking pair of boxers. And no dog anywhere in sight.
I ran a hand through my now-dripping hair, cursed myself for an idiot for listening to Tom’s stories, and went back inside. But my head wouldn’t let it go. Even after I’d toweled myself off and put on dry boxers, I stood at the window and stared into the endless storm.
My imagination just wasn’t that good. Something had startled me bad enough to knock me on my ass.
But I hadn’t a clue as to what.
Chapter Three
“Oh my God. Do you see that?”
I rolled my eyes as the girl’s voice drifted towards me, grateful my back was turned. It had taken all week, but the storm had finally washed away, leaving us to sunny skies and welcome summer heat. I’d taken the chance to start washing the muck off the cars.
The giggling behind me continued, reminding me that it also sounded like the private schools were out for the summer. Either that, or we’d gotten a family of teenage girls to stay. But Ms. Catherine hadn’t said anything, so I figured it was school kids. And she’d only been out a few minutes before, pushing sweet tea and benne seed cookies at me like I hadn’t just eaten an hour before. I dunked the sponge into the bucket and went back to washing Eyre House’s big blue Land Rover, trying to shut out the chatter.
“Stop droolin’, Hanna. I saw him first.”
“Get in line, Alix. Those sexy tats are all mine.”
Oh hell. I suddenly wished I’d left my shirt on, even though it was ninety-five and so humid I could barely breathe.
“Down, you two. I can almost promise he works here. The whole car washing thing is a bit of a giveaway.” The third girl’s voice went too quiet for me to make out the rest, and then all I could hear was giggle-fit.
Private school girls. God save me from their moronic games. I’d run into enough of them in Charleston. Flighty and privileged and only concerned with themselves. Richie kids. I could do without their kind.
A finger tapped my bare shoulder, sending a brief frisson through me.
“I’m sorry, sugar, but could I bother you for a moment?”
So much for ignoring them. I tried to shake off the small touch. It was odd. Shouldn’t’ve bothered me. I bought time by dropping the sponge in the bucket, and shucking the suds off my arm. Then I turned around, determined to be polite. Even if they had made it clear they’d been ogling me.
I was wrong. They may have been Ashley Prep girls at one point, but the suitcases the one was unloading from a big black four-door Wrangler screamed college freshman. There were three of them, complete with short skirts and tight shirts that should’ve been illegal the way they didn’t really hide anything.
Eyes up, Evan. No ogling back. You don’t need their brand of trouble. “How can I help you ladies?”
One of the girls held her hand out with a smile, while the other two tried to hold back another giggle-fit.
“I’m Ginny.”
“Evan.” Ginny’s handshake was no-nonsense, and I had to admit, she took my breath away. Light auburn hair piled up on her head. Smooth, sun-kissed skin. Perky breasts I was trying not to look at. Trim waist that flared at her hips and trailed down into more leg than was really good for me. Lord, she had legs. She was probably five-six, five-seven—tall enough that she didn’t have to crane up at me. But it was her smile, and the way it reached all the way to her honey-gold eyes, that really got to me. Equal parts genuineness and trouble, and something else hidden behind it all.
You’re drooling, dipshit.
But then, so was she.
“Pleasure is all mine, Evan, honey. You haven’t by chance seen my mama around, have you?”
The question caught me off-guard. I was still trying way too hard to not stare, and only just registering the way she’d rolled the word pleasure around her mouth. Hit the brakes, boy. “I’m sorry. Your mother?”
Ginny laughed, a clear, clean sound. “Sorry, hon. I’m Ginny Eyre. I’m pretty sure you’re working for my mama. Unless, of course, you just like washing other peoples’ cars?”
Holy shit. My brain finally stopped driveling and kicked back in gear as I remembered Tom’s story about the Eyre twins. So this is Ginny the man-eater, who watched her brother die. Looking at her, I could almost believe every word Tom had said about how much trouble she’d be.
I turned and grabbed a towel to dry my arms. “Last I saw your mother, she was haranguing the kitchen staff.”
One of Ginny’s sun-tipped eyebrows shot up. “Haranguing? Nice SAT word there.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t about to get into a stereotype war. I’d worked hard not to sound like exactly what I was.
“Ginny!” hissed one of the friends behind her, and keeping me from any need to answer.
Ginny laughed again. “Sorry. Evan, these ar
e my friends, Hanna Carter and Alix Bardugo.” She waved behind her and the two came up to flank her.
Hanna was about four inches shorter than Ginny, with deep brown eyes, milk chocolate skin, and a grin that took up half her face. Judging by the way her eyes took in my bare chest, khaki shorts and sandals while she shook my hand, she wasn’t the least bit shy, either.
Alix was a little bit taller than Ginny, all curves, and even more forward than Hanna. Her olive skin and full face betrayed a hint of Edisto’s Spanish heritage. Her dark brown hair tumbled well below her shoulders, and her green eyes didn’t even bother to look me up and down. They just rested on the spot where my tattoo curled around to my stomach.
Her smile was all eyes. “Love the tat.”
Ginny elbowed her. “Lord today, Alix!”
“What? It’s a nice tattoo! I’m givin’ him a compliment!”
I cleared my throat. “Um, thanks, miss.”
She leaned a little, peering openly at the black lines that twisted around my bicep. “How long did it take to get it done? Can I see the whole thing?”
“Alix!”
I stopped myself from laughing. Ginny wasn’t nearly as offended by her friend’s forwardness as she pretended, if her smile was anything to go by.
“It’s fine.” I turned around and held out my right arm so they could see the full tattoo. “It took a week of five hour days.”
“Seriously?” Hanna this time.
I nodded. “Yeah. Something this big really takes time.”
Manicured fingers grabbed my arm where the lines crossed underneath. Alix, I thought. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure.
“Did it hurt?” Alix asked.
“Yeah. Like hell. It’s easier over muscle. Hurts more where the bone is closer to the skin, like around my collarbone and shoulder blade. The third day was the hardest. After that, I’d kinda gotten used to it.”
Alix’s hand let my arm go, and I turned back to face them. Ginny’s eyebrow twitched a fraction as she caught my eye, but then whatever look she had was gone.
“We should go say hi to Mama. It was nice to meet you, Evan. You here for the summer?”
I nodded. “Taking over the maintenance stuff since Jim broke his leg.”
“I thought as much. Guess we’ll see you around.”
“I guess so.”
Three pairs of eyes lingered as they turned up the stairs. But as I began to hose off the Land Rover, it was Ginny’s honey-gold eyes that lingered in my mind.
The humidity pounded at me almost as hard as my feet hit the sand below my feet. It felt damn good, too. It had been nice to get back into my evening run routine, and the view here was so much better than downtown Charleston. Safer, too. My knee and ribs no longer hurt so much from my crash, and the stormy breeze that blew salty and cool off the ocean made it perfect. Even I could appreciate the setting sun over the incoming tide, and the warring orchestra of tree frogs and crickets. The occasional bat dove in front of me in the low light, doing its level best to decimate the local mosquito population.
I kind of wished there wasn’t another storm rolling in, but it looked like it was just going to be one of those summers. Hot and humid and forever storming.
Between the sound of the surf, the wildlife, the thump of my feet on the sand, and the music playing low on my iPod, I didn’t hear her until she was almost literally on top of me. I rounded the corner of a sand dune only to come face-to-face with a mountain bike coming the opposite way.
She swerved. I swerved. She braked and stopped gracefully. I lost my balance and fell backwards into the sand. My earbuds went flying as my head thudded back.
“Shit! I’m so sorry!”
My would-be attacker offered me her hand, and I looked up into honey-gold eyes.
“Evan, right?” Ginny smiled, a little breathless. Her long legs stared down at me from cut-off jeans, and her chest heaved in her white tank top.
I wasn’t sure if it was the fall or her that made my head spin.
“Oh Lord. I really am sorry. There isn’t usually anyone out here this late.”
I grunted. “Yeah, that’s kinda why I was out here.”
Ginny helped me up, and I started brushing sand off of me. Not an easy proposition, since it was stuck to all the sweat.
“Do you ever wear a shirt?”
I glanced up at her. “I do, actually. Just not when it’s this hot and I’m running.”
Her eyebrow shot up. “You weren’t running earlier.”
“I was washing a car.”
“Sure thing, hon.” The corner of her mouth twitched up in a smile, and I realized two things. First, she was flirting with me. And second, my boss’s daughter was flirting with me, and as much as I liked it, I was smart enough to know what a really bad idea it was. Tom’s warnings flashed through my head like an electronic billboard.
Well shit.
“Come here,” she said. “Let me brush the sand off your back.”
Not a good idea. “It’s fine. I’m just going to shower when I get back, anyway.”
Ginny rolled her eyes at me. “It’s the least I can do, since I nearly ran you over. By the by, did you even notice your leg is bleeding?”
I looked down. Sure enough, my knee was a mess of blood and sand where I’d landed on it. I grimaced and looked back up, but she wasn’t there. Then her hand brushed along my back, and I nearly jumped.
Damn, she moves fast.
“Ginny—”
“Just relax, will you? This’ll just take me two shakes.”
Her fingers brushed along my shoulder blades and down my sides, freeing sand and sending chills over me. It wasn’t the touch of a friend. It was the touch of a girl who knew exactly what it would do.
I clenched my fists and willed the heat flooding me to go away.
“There. All done.” She appeared back in front of me with the same smile that caught me earlier that afternoon. She broadcasted trouble like a radio tower.
“Thank you.”
“You should get your leg cleaned up.”
“It’s fine.” It actually stung like a mother, and I wondered how I’d missed it before. It must’ve shown, because that eyebrow of hers quirked up again.
Fortunately (or unfortunately), we were interrupted before she could say anything else. A rumble of thunder grew into an unexpected and familiar growl. The barking behind me shocked us both into moving. Ginny dropped her bike and jumped back. Instinct kicked in, and I stepped in front of her.
“What in the hell?”
The dune I’d crashed into was now home to a big ass black mongrel that stood snarling at us, teeth bared and drooling. Part-lab, part-who-knows-what, and all not-happy. It reminded me way too much of the big black dog that’d been hounding me since I got to Edisto.
Ginny pushed out from behind me. I’d thrown up my arm to protect her, but she just shoved it away.
“Good Lord almighty,” she gasped. “Pilot?”
The dog stopped snarling and whined.
“Pilot, honey, where did you come from?”
“Wait, you know this dog?”
Ginny turned back to me, all the humor and trouble gone from her face. “He belongs to my cousin Ben. He shouldn’t be here.” She turned back to the dog, who was now not only whining, but also licking her hand.
I looked around us. “I don’t see anyone else around here, and it’s getting pretty dark. That storm’s getting closer. Maybe we should take him back with us.”
“I just don’t get it. Ben’s a Marine, deployed in Afghanistan. Pilot should be with his girlfriend down in Hilton Head.”
“Your cousin, huh?”
She smiled. “Yeah. We’ve been close since… For a long time. He’s like a big brother to me.”
I sighed and climbed up on the dune she’d coaxed Pilot down from. “There’s nobody around here. Maybe he came from the house.”
“Maybe…”
“Ginny, let’s just take him back with us. You can ca
ll Ben or his girlfriend or whoever when we get back. Hell, maybe he’s at the house looking for you.”
She sighed and stood up. Pilot locked himself to her side. “You’re right. Besides,” she added with that quirk of her mouth, “we need to clean up that gash on your leg.”
“It’s just a scrape. Here, let me get your bike.”
“What, you need it to lean on?”
“Very funny. Says the girl who ran me over.”
“Well, I had to get you by yourself somehow.”
My mouth slammed shut with a click. I was not going to go there with her. Sexy as hell or not, she was Ms. Catherine’s daughter, and I needed this job. Flirting might be harmless, but the way she kept looking at me said she had a lot more in mind than just flirting. Banging the boss’s daughter wouldn’t do anything but get me fired. I couldn’t afford that. I didn’t have anywhere else to go.
And that wasn’t even getting into the social divide. The rich girl slumming it with the orphan help never lead to anything good.
Just keep reminding yourself of that.
Ginny smirked at me while I closed my eyes and prayed for patience. She was still smirking when I opened them. I grabbed her bike, and she laughed, threading her arm through mine.
“Come on, Pilot. Let’s get Evan taken care of.”
The knock at my door startled me enough that the tweezers in my hand slipped, making fresh blood well up. I winced.
“Yeah?”
Ginny’s face poked in my room, grinning. “Oh, sorry. Still picking out sand?”
I tossed the tweezers aside and mopped up the blood. “I was trying to.”
She shook her head, damp hair sliding over her shoulders, and came in, closing the door after Pilot came in. He still hadn’t unglued himself from her side, and the moment she shut the door, he lay down in front of it.
“No sign of your cousin?”
Ginny shook her head. “I told you, he’s in Afghanistan.”
Eyre House Page 3