Ghost for Sale

by Sandra Cox

My fingers slid over the hardbound book. “It feels awfully thin for three copies.”

  “This one’s yours. I went ahead and sent the other two to Ms. Aileen and Ms. Ethel.”

  “Thanks, Dad. And they’re the only copies you had made?”

  He crossed his heart. “The only copies. I know how personal this is to you, and I respect that. If you choose to pursue it, you’ve got the makings of a damn fine reporter. And you’ve got the skill.”

  “Thanks.” Pleasure flooded my system. Coming from my father, it was no small praise. He drew me to him, held me a moment, kissed my forehead, then let go. “Figure out how to be happy, Caitlin.”

  “I’m happy.”

  He looked at me, his gaze profoundly sad. I’d always been able to fib to Mom, but Dad saw right through me.

  “I’ll try,” I amended.

  “Once you’re in school, you’ll be too busy to brood.”

  “I don’t brood.”

  He lifted his eyebrows.

  “Well maybe a little.”

  “I better let Patrick say good-bye.” He smiled and stepped back. Patrick had spent a lot of time with me over the summer. He and Dad had hit it off.

  I straightened my shoulders. There was something I had to do, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  “When are you heading back?” I asked Patrick, clutching my book in my right hand.

  “Tomorrow.” He rocked back on his heels, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I’ll call you.”

  “Patrick…” I shifted my glance to my relatives, who’d moved discreetly away.

  “Don’t say it, Cat.” His voice, like mine, was pitched low.

  “I’m not a good bet. I know my timing stinks, but I don’t see myself being ready to be involved with anyone for a long time.”

  I’d tossed and turned all night, trying to figure out what to do. Patrick had been my lifeline over the summer. Without him, life would have been difficult indeed. But he deserved so much more than what I could give him. “I want you to date other people. The best I can ever offer you is friendship.” I forced the words out. It was the right thing to do even if it didn’t feel like it.

  He winced. I could see his hands fist in his pockets. Before he could respond, I took a small step toward him. “I can never repay everything you’ve done for me. You managed to glue some of the broken pieces back together. The best thing I can do for you is cut you loose.” It hurt to say it. God, it hurt. I’d become way too dependent on him. I reached out and touched his cheek. “We’ll always be the best of friends.”

  “The ole ‘let’s be friends routine,’ hey?”

  I cringed.

  His gaze shifted to the ground, then settled on my face. “It’s okay. I knew the score when I got into this. I know I’ll always come in second to your ghost, but I’m willing to settle.”

  I shook my head. “No. Don’t even think about settling. You deserve so much more. I wish I could be the person you need, but I’m still broken.” My voice caught. My eyes filled.

  He grabbed me and held me close. “I’ll be waiting if you change your mind,” he whispered in my hair.

  I almost did. It would be so easy to settle, to have someone love me and take care of me, even if I didn’t return his feelings. So easy. But I’d meant it. He deserved more. I couldn’t be selfish any longer. I took a deep breath. “I’ll always be your number one fan,” I said with a shaky smile.

  He kissed my cheek. “Be happy.”

  I wished people would stop saying that.

  “You too,” I whispered, my throat clogged, my eyes burning. “I’ll see you at school.”

  “See you around.” He turned on his heel and strode to his car.

  I opened my car door and paused. My dad stood with his arm around my mom. Uncle Leon and Aunt Janet held hands. I wondered if they’d figured out why Patrick had left. By the look on my dad’s face, at least he had.

  Marcy gave an impatient toot of her horn. I slid into the car and started the motor. Before I pulled out, I tore off the brown paper. A small hardback with a solid black cover and gold lettering said Liam O’Reilly.

  “Thank you, Dad,” I whispered. I started the motor and backed up my bug as Marcy rolled onto the street. With a wave to the family, she took off.

  I bit my lip, waved good-bye, and followed her. I stole one last look in the rearview mirror. Sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, Patrick raised a hand in farewell.

  * * * *

  It was our fourth week on campus.

  Marcy and I shared a dorm room. I spent a lot of time at the library, and occasionally dragged her with me when she wasn’t with her sorority sisters or going to a frat party. It was where we were headed now.

  It had been a bad day. I hadn’t aced an Econ test. I’d been too edgy, couldn’t focus. But worst of all, I’d smelled cinnamon and limes. Not the intense scent Liam gave off, just a faint, occasional whiff. I knew it was my imagination, but it had driven me crazy. Still was.

  “Caitlin.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’ve asked you the same question three times. What’s wrong?” Marcy queried as we pushed through the wide doors of the library.

  “Nothing. I’m fine,” I forced out. I couldn’t burden my cousin with my anxiety. Marcy was worried enough about me.

  She didn’t contradict me, just reached out with her free hand and gave me a hug. “Of course you are. Have you heard from Patrick lately?”

  I wasn’t sure the subject change was an improvement, but I went along gamely. “Yeah. There’s a little redhead after him. I wish her luck. He deserves someone that’s head over heels for him.”

  “Yeah.”

  We fell silent for a moment before Marcy asked, “Did I tell you Ryan threw Clayton out of the house this summer?”

  I stopped in my tracks. “What?”

  She nudged me forward and giggled. “I’d told Ryan about Clayton, so when he showed up, Ryan told him he’d have you file stalking charges against him and throw him in jail, if he came near you again.”

  “Way to go, Ryan. That must be why he only calls and stopped coming over. I can’t figure out what part of ‘we’re through’ he doesn’t understand.”

  “The boy is certainly self-absorbed,” she agreed.

  “You’ve got that right. You better hold on to Ryan. He’s a keeper.”

  “I’m thinking seriously about it.”

  The soles of our shoes echoed against the marble tile as we continued down the hall. We stepped into a large room filled with tables. “Where shall we study?” I whispered.

  She pointed at an open table farther back and to our right. “How about that one?”

  “Okay.”

  As we walked, I sniffed cautiously. The only smell was old books, perfume, and aftershave.

  “Perfect,” Marcy said as we tossed down our books, pulled out our laptops, and plugged them in. I was working on an English paper that wasn’t due for two weeks. Marcy had a paper due in Sociology the next day.

  Soon, I was engrossed in the world of Mary Shelley.

  “My God, if that isn’t the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen,” she breathed in my ear. I ignored her and kept typing. Marcy was ambidextrous when she studied. She could work, flirt, and chatter all at the same time. For the most part, I tuned her out.

  “He looks like…” Her voice trailed off. She pushed to her feet, chair scraping against the floor. “Caitlin,” she whispered.

  “Hmm.” I didn’t take my eyes off the keyboard as I tried, in the most concise manner possible, to explain why Frankenstein was such a classic.

  The smooth waterfall voice hit me before the words. “Good evening, Marcy.”

  I froze.

  Marcy stuttered, an unusual occurrence for my outgoing cousin. “Do we know each other?”

  “I’m your former roommate. Or should I say Caitlin’s ghost?”

  My hands fell away from the keyboard. T
he blood drained from my face and my ears buzzed. With a stiff, jerky motion, I lifted my head, my breath lodged in my throat.

  Liam smiled at me, his heart in his eyes. At least, I assumed it was Liam. He wore a black polo and faded jeans. His wonderful head of hair was cropped much closer to his head than I was used to seeing. Trembling, I reached out to him, expecting to feel a tingle of electricity as my fingers grasped air. Instead, I touched warm flesh.

  My throat constricted and my eyes stung.

  He held out his hand. I clasped it and reveled in the unbelievable heat and texture of it. “How?” was all I could manage.

  He pulled me to my feet. “Let’s take a walk and I’ll explain.”

  Marcy sat down with a thump on the hard wood chair, for once at a loss for words.

  “I’ll see your cousin home. Would you bring her books and laptop?”

  She nodded, still speechless. Me too, for that matter.

  When we walked out of the building, the warm night air hit me. Moths did their death dance around outdoor lights shining down on the sidewalk. Liam led me to a stone seat and drew me down.

  He still smelled of cinnamon and limes. “How?” It seemed to be the only thing I was capable of saying.

  “Darned if I know.” He laughed, a joyous sound. “It’s pretty hazy and getting more so by the minute. But I’ll try to explain.

  “It was like I was in what you’d call a time continuum, like resting in this white space, aware of others in a shadowy kind of way, like me. As close as I can tell, it was a healing period for the spirit. Scents surrounded me: fresh air, honey, and sunshine. I floated in light and listened to the soft lazy lap of the seas.” He gave a helpless shrug. “Time had no meaning. Gradually, all the pain from the war, my sister’s death, being locked in that black void for so long, it went away.

  “It was at that point I became aware of a greater being. I never saw her, but I felt such warmth and love.” He gave me a shy smile. “It’s like I feel when I’m with you. This presence, for lack of a better term, spoke to me without using words, just imparted the thoughts. She told me I was ready to move on, that it was time.

  “I could move into the light forever with Anna, William, and Ezra or I could come back and be with the one I loved.” He raised his hand palm up and shook his head as if unable to put into words his experience. “Like reincarnating. The best way I can describe it is you get a second chance if you’ve left things undone on earth.

  “Well that was a no brainer, as you’d say.” He chuckled. “The next thing I know, I’m plopped down here in the dead of night, naked as a jaybird.”

  I put my hand to my mouth to stifle a giggle at the mental image. “How did you get clothes?”

  He cleared his throat. “I borrowed them.”

  My eyes widened. “You stole them? That is so un-Liam-like.”

  He lifted his chin. “I prefer the term borrowed. I’ll make it up to the laddie. My options were limited.”

  “So you arrived with nothing? No social security card? No credit card? No clothes?”

  “That’s right, nothing but my bare skin.”

  “We’re going to have to enlist Dad’s help.” I was getting excited. This was going to be fun. Liam would have to have a whole new persona created. And I was just the girl to help him do it. Another thought hit me. “How did you find me?”

  “Oh, that was easy enough. Think of me as a compass and you the magnet. You’re my heart, Caitlin.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. My stomach fluttered and my pulse raced. No wonder I loved this man. No one else had ever made me feel this way. No one else ever would.

  He continued to hold my hand as he leaned toward me, his expression intense. “I want to be with you, Caitlin. Now. Forever.”

  My eyes filled. “I’m so glad,” I whispered, my heart overflowing with happiness. I didn’t care how or why, but the impossible had happened.

  “There’s been something I’ve wanted to do since the first moment I laid eyes on you.” He dropped my hand, put his arms around me, and held me in a loose circle.

  There it was. I’d missed that soft rolling accent that sounded like the sensuous slide of velvet when he spoke. I leaned into him, but he surprised me by clasping my arms and holding me away.

  “Ye didn’t go and get engaged to Patrick, did ye?” His voice sounded strained, his expression, even in shadows, looked anxious.

  “No. Patrick is a wonderful man. But there’s only one man for me, now or ever, Liam O’Reilly.”

  He drew me closer. “The poor sod. What about that arse of a Clayton, have you given him the heave ho?”

  “No, but it’s not from lack of trying. He can’t seem to see past his own significance.”

  His eyes gleamed with anticipation. “He will when I tell him. Now where were we?” His lips hovered mere inches from mine. Warm hard arms drew me closer. “Caitlin,” he breathed.

  Impatient with the wait, I reached up, grabbed two handfuls of thick silky hair, and pulled his head down. Our lips met and our tongues collided. Thunder rolled. Streaky flashes of lightning that had nothing to do with malignant spirits speared behind my eyelids. Months of pain and listlessness dissipated like smoke.

  “Welcome to the twenty-first century, Liam O’Reilly,” I murmured when we finally drew apart.

  “It’s going to take some getting used to. The lasses are more forward than in my day.” His eyes glinted as he smiled at me with that crooked grin that always left me weak in the knees.

  “You have no idea.” I tugged his head back down to show him exactly what he could expect.

  “I’ll try to bear up somehow,” he whispered against my mouth before his lips closed on mine.

  My head whirled in a dizzy spiral of pleasure. I shifted closer and moved my hands to his shoulders to get a better grip. My flesh and blood ghost cooperated with enthusiasm. I had no doubt he’d manage the transition just fine. Then all thought fled as I lost myself in the wonder of him. Finally, I was home… And so was he.

  Meet the Author

  Sandra Cox writes Young Adult Fantasy, Paranormal and Historical Romance, and Metaphysical non-fiction. She lives in sunny North Carolina with her husband, a brood of critters, and an occasional foster cat. Although shopping is high on the list, her greatest pleasure is sitting on her screened-in porch, listening to the birds, sipping coffee and enjoying a good book. She's a vegetarian and a Muay Thai enthusiast. Please visit Sandra’s blog at sandracox.blogspot.com, find her on Facebook, or follow her on twitter.com@Sandra_Cox

  Keep reading for a peek at the first book in Sandra Cox’s Mutants series

  LOVE, LATTES AND MUTANTS

  Finding love is hard, even when you aren’t a mutant.

  Like most seventeen-year-olds, Piper Dunn wants to blend in with the crowd. Having a blowhole is a definite handicap. A product of a lab-engineered mother with dolphin DNA, Piper spends her school days hiding her brilliant ocean-colored eyes and sea siren voice behind baggy clothing and ugly glasses. When Tyler, the new boy in school, zeroes in on her, ignoring every other girl vying for his attention, no one, including Piper, understands why...

  Then Piper is captured on one of her secret missions rescuing endangered sea creatures and ends up in the same test center where her mother was engineered. There she discovers she isn’t the only one of her kind. Joel is someone she doesn’t have to hide from, and she finds herself drawn to the dolph-boy who shares her secrets. Talking to him is almost as easy as escaping from the lab. Deciding which boy has captured her heart is another story...

  A Lyrical e-book on sale now.

  Learn more about Sandra at http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31643

  Chapter 1

  “Miss Dunn, are we keeping you awake?” Mr. Grumble’s sarcastic remark draws titters from the class.

  I jerk upright. “No, Mr. Grumble.” Heat floods my face.

  “Glad to hear it.” He turns back to the whiteboard and writes
an equation with a red marker.

  I slink down in my seat and push my tinted glasses back up on my nose.

  The class’s attention shifts from my discomfort. Some to the board where Mr. Grumble is still writing the equation, some to flirt outrageously with the new boy in class, some to sneak out their phones and send a text, which most definitely isn’t allowed.

  Only the new girl—she and the boy are twins—takes time to give me a commiserating smile. I grimace back.

  She’s always polite and kind in her dealings with me, something that confuses me.

  Now her brother, Tyler, although polite, is oblivious. Comes from having girls trip all over him I guess.

  The bell rings. I pick up my books. When the room clears, I slide out of my seat. Holly, the new girl, is waiting for me, her entourage grouped around her. She smiles. I glance over my shoulder but the warm smile is for me. She waves her friends on. “I’ll catch up.”

  They move forward like a herd of sheep, perplexed expressions on their faces. Can’t blame them, I’m perplexed myself. I don’t get a lot of attention. My blonde hair is scraped back into a ponytail and pinned in a wrap-up sponge barrette. My clothes are baggier than a rapper’s and as unassuming as I can find. In other words, the total package is boring. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that’s the way I like it, but it’s necessary.

  “Hi.” Holly shifts her books to her other arm.

  “Hi.” I clutch my book bag to my chest, not making eye contact.

  She falls in step beside me. “Bad luck hitting Grumble’s radar. Half the kids in class sleep through his lectures.”

  I shrug.

  “Would you like to grab a latte after school?” is her next conversational gambit.

  “Why?” No doubt, I sound like a total jerk, but there’s no point in encouraging a friendship. Though the idea of an icy latte and girl talk appeals. A lot. If the situation were different, I’d be a girlie-girl, but it’s not and I’m not.

  Chatter surrounds us. Juniors and seniors hurry down the hall to their classes. Rosemont is built like a letter U. Freshmen and sophomores on one side, juniors and seniors on the other; the gym and stage merge in the center.