Double Dating with the Dead

by Karen Kelley

  Slowly she pulled away the top layer of paper.

  Beady little eyes stared back at her.

  “Eghhhhhhh!”

  Her scream echoed in the cavernous room.

  “Rats!” She whirled around and threw herself at Trent.

  God, she hated rats! They were filthy, vile creatures. Shivers of revulsion ran over her body as she tried to climb up Trent’s.

  In one swoop he scooped her into his arms. She buried her face in his shirt.

  “It’s a mouse.” His chest rumbled.

  “Not funny—again!” She took a deep breath. “Is it gone?”

  “I think you scared it worse than it scared you. It was probably traumatized for life. It might need mouse therapy.”

  “Put me down.” She hated when someone made fun of her. Damn it, a mouse had run across her hand once. Yuck! Ewww! Mice were nasty little creatures.

  “Are you sure you saw a mouse and you’re not trying to seduce me again?” He looked around. “Not the best place for sex.”

  “No place would be good for sex with you.”

  “How will you know if you don’t try me?”

  “Can you please put me down so we can get back to work?” She wondered if he was listening to her. He just stared. It was all she could do not to squirm in his arms. It was as if he looked past all the barbs she’d thrown and saw the woman he held.

  She was such a fake. Could he see that she lusted after his body? Damn, she hoped not.

  She breathed a little easier when he put her feet on the floor. At least, until she remembered the mouse. She scanned the area just to be on the safe side. It looked clear.

  “You’re sure it ran out of the box.”

  “I won’t swear to it.”

  She jiggled the box, then jumped back.

  Nothing.

  “You’re scared of mice, yet you claim to talk to the dead. Do you see anything wrong with that picture?”

  “Yes, I don’t claim to talk to the dead. I do talk to the dead. Sometimes they scare the hell out of me, too.”

  She went back to the box and shook it again, but this time she moved back only a foot. When nothing scurried out, she stepped closer and yanked out the paper before looking inside.

  Yuck! All that trouble for dirty, grimy metal parts. Just bits and pieces of junk. The next one might yield something interesting, though.

  She hesitated only briefly before going to get another box, but when she reached to lift it down, Trent beat her to it and brought it to the table. He had on another T-shirt and oh, boy, did it stretch taut across his muscles. She already knew how they felt.

  Damn, she couldn’t believe she’d practically climbed up him. Stupid mouse. A shiver of revulsion ran over her. Eck, she hated the furry little creatures.

  He cupped his hands and beat them on the side of the box, making noise but not disturbing the contents. When nothing moved, he opened the box and rattled around on the inside before pronouncing it safe for her to explore.

  “Thanks,” she grumbled a half-hearted apology.

  “I don’t think you’re going to find anything of value. Vandals have probably gotten all the good stuff.”

  “Why would you think that?” She removed some of the newspaper. He was right, there wasn’t much inside.

  “Human nature. Abandoned building. No one to keep a good eye on the contents.”

  He shrugged when she looked at him.

  “What about the furniture?” she asked.

  “Not worth the trouble. Any antiques have been replaced with a hodgepodge of worthless junk.”

  She paused in her scavenger hunt. “How do you know it’s worthless?”

  “My mother has an antique store. I’ve helped her do inventory. After a while you start to learn the prices of things.”

  “Prices. Is that what the items in your mother’s store mean to you? Prices?”

  “It’s called being solvent. Making a living.”

  All that history. She shook her head. What a waste.

  “Ah-ha.” She laughed. Let that teach him a lesson. “A ring.”

  He stepped nearer for a closer look.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said with reverence.

  He eyed her with more than a touch of skepticism, so she polished it on her shirt and handed it to him. He walked closer to the light and turned it so he could read the inscription.

  “Mattel.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You’re rich now.”

  She strode over and took it from him. “You don’t get it, do you?”

  “Get what? That you believe you can talk to the dead? Or that you’ve just found a priceless gem?”

  She held the ring up to the light. Then clasped it in her hand. The gold plastic ring warmed. She could almost feel the lingering essence of the little girl that it had belonged to.

  “I bet it’s worth at least a penny,” he snickered.

  Arguing with him would be like arguing with a tree stump. So she wouldn’t.

  Darn it, that wasn’t the way she operated. She wanted people to see past what something cost. The monetary value meant nothing. When you discovered the heart of something, that was when you found the true value.

  But she was stubborn.

  She opened her hand; the ring lay on her palm. It was a little bent, a whole lot tarnished.

  “It’s not perfect, but that’s exactly what makes it perfect,” she told him. “Try to imagine what the little girl felt when she put this ring on her finger. Maybe she wasn’t as pretty as the other little girls, or her parents didn’t have as much money as other parents, but suddenly nothing mattered because she was transformed into a princess.” She looked at him.

  “And the moral to your story?”

  She wouldn’t let him goad her this time. “The moral to my story is that sometimes it’s okay to believe in what you can’t see or touch. That magic exists for each of us. You just have to open yourself up to it.”

  “Sorry, I still don’t believe in ghosts.”

  She sighed. “No, I didn’t think you would.”

  The man was going to have a friggin’ heart attack when Wesley and Dixie showed themselves, and she was positive they would. It was an ego thing with ghosts. That, and she sometimes thought they enjoyed scaring the hell out of people.

  “I think I’ve had enough of the basement. We have the next two weeks to forage through this junk.”

  “Fine.” She was still a little jumpy after finding the mouse, anyway.

  She started past Trent just as the light went out. Being in total darkness threw her off balance, and she stumbled into him.

  He grabbed her, but instead of connecting with her arm, he connected with a breast.

  His hand stayed there. She closed her eyes and swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat as she let the heat of his touch soak through her.

  Then she came to her senses.

  “You can move your hand off my breast any time now.” Except she knew she didn’t really want him to and her words lacked the conviction she meant to convey.

  “Sorry. You fell against me.”

  His fingers brushed across her nipple as he moved his hand to her arm. It immediately hardened. Damn it, did it have to feel that good?

  “The bulb must’ve burned out. No telling how long it’s been since it was replaced.”

  “Or a mischievous ghost did something.” She spoke louder than necessary, but she wanted Dixie and Wesley to know that she was on to their game.

  “It’s not working,” he said.

  “I think I’m aware of that. I mean, we are standing here in the dark.”

  “No, I mean about your so-called ghost having done something to the light. I don’t buy it.”

  “That’s okay because I’m not selling. Believe what you want, but when they do decide to show themselves and you have a heart attack, I might not start CPR.”

  He laughed. Oh, his time was coming.

  “Can we just get to the stairs?”

  “We
’d better hang on to each other as we make our way to them.”

  “Whatever.” She would never admit to being directionally challenged. Right now she was completely turned around. She could stumble around down here for days, weeks maybe.

  But when he glided his hand up her bare arm, it felt like a caress. The heat from his touch burned all the way down to her toes.

  He’s the enemy, her affronted self warned.

  But a very sexy one, her alternate, devilish side reminded her.

  The dream she’d had last night didn’t help. All that sexy touchy-feely stuff—ah, Lord, her body throbbed from her head to her feet.

  And the way he’d stripped for her.

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat as a deep ache began to build inside her.

  “I think we’re getting close to the stairs,” Trent said.

  With more than a little effort, she pulled her thoughts back to the present.

  “Here we are.” He led her hand to the rail. “Got it?”

  “Yes, I’m fine now.” But she wasn’t. Not really. Now that she was safely on the stairs, Trent no longer held on to her arm, and suddenly she felt alone and sad... and sexually frustrated!

  She really did need to get a social life.

  Chapter 7

  Trent watched Selena out of the corner of his eye. She sat in a chair near the window in the hotel’s library and read her book. A romance, of course. As if she didn’t have enough fanciful thoughts. At least it was a hell of a lot better than watching her dig through boxes in the basement.

  He opened his black notebook and began to write:

  Selena tried to make me believe in what she calls magic. Silly nonsense about a child and a ring. Fairy tales. Nothing more than that. What did she expect me to do? See the imaginary little girl? Maybe that’s the ghost she calls Dixie.

  He paused.

  Trent almost pitied her. Almost. He looked up, studying her quite openly this time. She’d curled up in the chair like a damned cat, with her feet tucked beneath her.

  A smile suddenly lifted the corners of her mouth.

  What was she reading that caused the smile? A love scene? A quick flash of last night’s dream swept through his mind. Selena standing naked in front of him, wanting him to touch her, to stroke her soft skin.

  He drew in a deep breath. He had to stop thinking like this or he’d never make it through the next two weeks.

  Maybe he should try to keep in mind that he was writing an exposé about her. That would certainly dampen any relationship that might start between them.

  He looked down at the blank page and forced himself to begin writing again, but when Selena yawned, he glanced up. Ah, God, she was stretching, and her shirt was tight against her breasts.

  The woman was a temptress.

  For just a moment, he lost himself in the vision of what it would feel like to take her in his arms, lower his mouth and taste her sweet lips.

  As quickly as the image formed, he shoved it away. Her tricks wouldn’t work. Hell, she knew exactly what she was doing to him. But nothing would get him to admit ghosts existed. Not even her throwing her sexy little body at him. If she wasn’t careful, she might bite off more than she could chew.

  Yeah, like he wasn’t starting to sweat just watching her. He needed something cold with lots of ice in it. Anything that might cool his body temperature.

  He closed his book and stood. She glanced up, then went back to reading.

  Good, he’d just as soon put a little distance between them. He reached for the doorknob, turning and pulling at the same time.

  Nothing.

  He wiped his palm on his pant leg and tried again.

  Nothing.

  “Having problems?” Selena asked.

  He set his notebook down and gripped the doorknob with both hands. “It’s stuck.” He jiggled the door and tried again.

  Still nothing.

  “Dixie and Wesley.”

  “Age caused the door to stick. Not ghosts.” The damn thing wasn’t budging.

  Selena laid her book to the side and came to her feet. “Want me to try?”

  He stepped back and waved toward the door. “Be my guest.” Yeah, he’d like to see her open the door. Once again, he was about to prove her wrong.

  “Dixie, Wesley, whichever one of you is holding the door, would you mind letting go? I’m starved and would like to eat.” She reached for the knob and opened it with one hand, then looked at him with a self-satisfied smirk. “Happy now?”

  “I must’ve loosened it.”

  She snorted. “If that’s what you want to believe, then it’s fine by me.” She waltzed past him and out of the room.

  He inspected the door. Maybe she’d rigged it some way when they were cleaning. And he wouldn’t put it past any member of her family to help Selena.

  But after examining the door, he couldn’t find how anyone had manipulated it so that it would stay closed. He knew for a fact that ghosts had nothing to do with it. He grabbed his notebook and left the room, shutting the door behind him, then opened it. He shut it again, then opened it.

  One stuck door didn’t mean the hotel was haunted. The place was old and doors got stuck. It was exactly as he’d thought. When he’d jiggled the knob, he’d apparently loosened it. That, or Selena had done something. Con artists were good at what they did, but eventually they slipped up, and he’d be there to catch her when she did.

  He wandered into the kitchen. Selena was bent over in front of the refrigerator. His heart slammed against his ribs. She might have changed clothes, but she still looked sexy as hell. The shirt had ridden up, and her ass looked pretty damn hot in the leggings she wore. She leaned farther inside, and it became hard to focus. He wanted to walk closer, press himself against her sweet cheeks.

  She straightened before he could do much more than have a very short fantasy. He drew in a deep breath, hoping to clear his mind of the vision, but it served only to make him light-headed.

  “They have a great pizza place that delivers. I’ll go in halves with you,” she grudgingly offered.

  “Yeah, sure.” Hell, he’d agree to eat mud right now.

  “What do you like?”

  Hot sex. The kind that got down and dirty.

  “On your pizza?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.

  “Everything.” On his pizza and in the bedroom.

  Trent was acting really strange. Was it possible that he might be starting to believe in ghosts? She studied him for a moment. Nah, a jammed door wasn’t going to change his mind.

  Hitting him over the head with the door might. It was at least worth thinking about.

  “I’ll just get my phone and call it in.” She was still shaking her head as she left the kitchen and went up the stairs to her room.

  When she opened the door, Dixie had all Selena’s jewelry strung out on the dresser and was staring at it. She casually looked up when Selena entered.

  “That happens to be my stuff,” Selena told her.

  Dixie sighed. “I used to love when the men would buy me trinkets. Did Trent buy these for you?”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, right. If you haven’t noticed by now, we’re enemies. Not even friends. I bought the jewelry myself. No man supports me. I make a comfortable living on my own.”

  “You mean you paid for all these things—with your own money?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Do you work in a saloon?”

  Lord, it must’ve been awful for a woman living back in the 1800s. A time when most women had to rely on a man’s generosity to get by. Maybe it was time she brought Dixie into this century.

  “I write a column for the newspaper, and I get paid very well.”

  “You’re married, then?”

  She shook her head. “Still single. Like I said, I support myself.”

  Dixie frowned. “An old maid. A shame. I mean, you’re not that bad looking.”

  “Gee, thanks.” She frowned. “I’m not
married because I don’t choose to be married right now.”

  “What about this Trent fella? He doesn’t act like an enemy. I bet you could talk him into marrying you.”

  What had she started? “Never mind. I just came up here to get my phone.” She went to her purse and finally found it in the bottom. She already knew the number by heart and punched it in, then placed her order when the girl answered. When she closed her phone, Dixie was gone, except the jewelry was still scattered across her dresser. She could’ve at least put it back. Another thing she disliked—sloppy ghosts.

  She opened the drawer and slid the jewelry inside before going downstairs.

  Selena found Trent scribbling in his black notebook, except he was in the foyer now. Apparently, he didn’t trust the library door. He was deep in thought. Whatever he was writing must be important to him because apparently he didn’t hear her return.

  “Writing another book?” she asked, smiling to herself when he jumped. Yeah, he might say he didn’t believe in ghosts, but for a nonbeliever he sure spooked easily.

  “You could say that.” He went back to writing.

  “Who are you trying to blast out of the water now? Tarot card readers? Witches? I mean, I can call Paige up and invite her over. You can kill two birds with one stone.”

  He took his time raising his head. “I never work on two projects at once, but it’s something to consider.”

  He was so going to have to eat crow when the two weeks were up. Dixie and Wesley better show themselves. Oh, she just had the most brilliant idea. Absolutely friggin’ beautiful! She would goad them into showing themselves to Trent.

  “You look like the cat that just caught the mouse.”

  Ugh, she hated mice, but then he knew that. Not to worry. She would have her revenge.

  So maybe her plan wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d first thought. Dixie and Wesley weren’t born yesterday. Duh. That was sort of a gimmie. She would have to try harder.

  Easier said than done. They’d eaten lunch, then Trent had gone back to writing in that stupid black notebook.

  What she wouldn’t give to know what he was scribbling. Or better yet, whom he was writing about. She had her suspicions it was mostly about her, and she didn’t think it was anything good. Not that she’d ever snoop. She wasn’t that kind of girl.