If You've Got It, Haunt It: A ghost romance (The Peyton Clark Series Book 4)

by H. P. Mallory

  “What are you nervous about, Peyton?” Ryan repeated.

  “I don’t know exactly,” I responded, taking a deep breath as I faced him. “After you went to bed last night, I stayed up and read. One article said nightmares are common for people who have undergone a significant life change.”

  Hmm… I’d undergone quite a few life changes in the recent past.

  “Do you think you need to see a therapist?”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t ruled it out.” It was the third or fourth time Ryan suggested therapy, and while I appreciated his concern for my mental health, I didn’t like being reminded that I could benefit from professional counseling. It wasn’t a very good feeling.

  We’d been sitting in the dark for the last several minutes and even though it was really late, Ryan reached for the lamp on the nightstand and turned it on. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness.

  In a corner of the room near the window sat a neon-yellow towel beside the bucket that was used for catching water since the storm hit. Our handyman, Greg, was so busy making calls that today was the first day he could come out. Ordinarily, Ryan would have taken care of the issue himself, seeing how he ran his own general contracting business, but he was incredibly busy with remodeling a hotel, so he had to call someone else in his absence.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  “There’s nothing really to talk about,” I shrugged, although I knew he couldn’t be dissuaded so easily.

  “What was the dream, er nightmare, about?”

  Reluctantly, I told him as much as I could remember; how we’d been ghost-hunting at the Place D’Armes; how our visit was plagued by strange voices and unexplained footprints; and returning to the hotel when my purse disappeared. “When I got back to the room, I searched the bathroom. And when I came out, there was a woman sitting on the bed, smoking a cigar. Beside her was a coffin on the bed. She kept telling me to look inside it.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “And I saw the body of… someone.” I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the body had started out as mine and then morphed into Guarda and, finally, Baron Samedi. It was still too morbid even for me.

  “You didn’t recognize the person?”

  “No.” I took a deep breath. “Maybe it’s like you always say: nonsensical stuff that happens in dreams.”

  “I think you’re feeling unusually anxious so it’s impacting your sleep.” Ryan placed his arm around my waist, and I snuggled into him, relishing his large arms around me. “I once dreamt all my teeth fell out.”

  “What?” I asked with a little laugh as I imagined his handsome face sans teeth. Not so handsome anymore! “What happened?”

  “I was talking to a pretty woman when one of my teeth fell out and flew across the room. I raised a hand to my mouth, trying to cover it because I was embarrassed, but then all of my teeth started to fall out. There were teeth everywhere. And she kept asking me, ‘Sir, are you okay?’”

  I laughed in spite of myself. Ryan knew how to make me feel better. He always had. “Let’s hope that one isn’t an omen of things to come.” I ran the back of my hand against the smooth line of his jaw. “I’m pretty partial to your teeth.”

  Ryan leaned over and kissed the top of my head. “Could be a premonition.”

  “For our relationship’s sake, I hope not.”

  “Come on, you wouldn’t love me if I were all gums?”

  I laughed and batted him away playfully as he wrapped his lips around his teeth, effectively hiding them before trying to kiss me. I giggled as I pushed against him. Then he chuckled and stopped faux-attacking me. Smiling broadly, he revealed his perfect teeth. I ran my hand down his face, letting his stubble tickle my skin.

  At that moment, someone coughed from the other side of the room.

  I was more exasperated than startled. I glanced across the room and found Drake suddenly floating there. He was highlighted by the moonlight that streamed through the windows and he didn’t look happy. With his dark brown hair in disarray, as always, his olive complexion and his chiseled jawline, he was extremely handsome.

  But his timing sucked.

  Breaking away from Ryan with his lips still on mine, I directed my thoughts to the half-visible figure who stood by the armoire with his arms crossed and a perturbed expression on his face.

  Seriously Drake?

  The dead don’t sleep, mon cherie. You know this.

  Not my problem. You can’t keep showing up right before I’m about to get… intimate!

  “Peyton, yoo-hoo!” Ryan said as he gripped my cheeks and forced my attention back to him. “You started zoning out. Are you still thinking about your nightmare?”

  “No, we just… we have a visitor.”

  Ryan frowned and sighed at the same time. If Ryan trailed the list of people Drake liked, Drake was definitely on the bottom of Ryan’s list as well. The two were constantly trying to one-up the other, never mind that Ryan couldn’t see or interact with Drake; and Drake refused to give Ryan the benefit of the doubt.

  “Can’t you tell him to leave?” Ryan patiently tolerated these ghostly visits without ever complaining about his girlfriend’s propensity to communicate with spirits, but even he had his limits. “This isn’t an open house where Drake is free to come and go as he pleases. There should be strict lines that he respectfully doesn’t cross. He should understand that?”

  Of course I understand! Drake railed as he glared at Ryan.

  Then why are you here right now? I demanded.

  I was merely taking a quick jaunt through the house, mon chaton, Drake started, his tone sounding affronted. And I chose to check on you to ensure your slumber was uninterrupted. When, lo, I come to learn that I am not welcome! And furthermore, I will have you know that I don’t appreciate you bringing more spirits into this house!

  More spirits?

  The doll! He insisted. The porcelain houses a spirit of its own and I do not appreciate more roommates. There are more than enough in this house as it is.

  Can you tell if Lizzie is a good spirit? I asked, wanting to get Drake’s opinion.

  The doll appears to be a good spirit, though it asks me way too many questions and generally rambles continuously.

  I’m sorry for that, I said, trying to suppress a laugh.

  Drake grunted at me and then drifted slowly down through the floorboards onto the floor below, beginning with his feet and ending with his dark hair. I watched him go with a pang of remorse, worried that I offended him. Ever since his expulsion from my body, a palpable distance developed between us that seemed to widen with each passing day.

  I’d have to talk to him about it later. For now, I had a very much alive boyfriend’s tail feathers to smooth.

  “He’s gone,” I said. “And he won’t be back tonight.”

  “Good.” Ryan wasn’t even remotely broken up over the fact. “We need to draw up clear lines of separation. I get that this is his house too but if he were alive and walking in on us, it would be no different. Privacy is privacy.”

  “I know and he knows,” I answered, suddenly exhausted.

  “There’s nothing worse than thinking you’re alone with your girlfriend only to find out some Peeping Tom is watching your every move,” Ryan continued, sounding exasperated. “He needs to know I’m not into crowds.”

  “He’s no voyeur,” I said, feeling agitated. “If he were, he wouldn’t have complained.”

  “What did he say?” There was a menacing look in Ryan’s eyes, as if he were contemplating going downstairs and having it out with the ghost.

  “He just coughed to let me know he was here.” Sensing Ryan still wasn’t appeased, I placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll talk to Drake tomorrow. He’s very sensitive and he needs to understand that just because we don’t always want him around doesn’t mean we don’t like him.”

  “Speak for yourself,” muttered Ryan.

>   “That’s not nice,” I started.

  “Just don’t forget we have a meeting with the solicitor at eight.”

  “Oh, right.”

  In a few hours, we planned to meet with a lawyer who was representing Luke Montague, a present-day descendent of Drake’s. He said he had a legal claim to my house—a belief that wasn’t shared by me or Drake, for that matter.

  “Well, anyway,” Ryan started, touching my arm in a placating fashion, “let’s get back to what we were doing?”

  I reached up and stroked the back of his head, more from a desire to forget my present troubles than any overpowering urge to have sex. Drake’s appearance killed the mood, at least for me. Apparently, it didn’t kill Ryan’s though, because he wasted no time in pulling me closer to him and thrusting his tongue into my mouth. As soon as my body began to respond to the intensity, a cold drop of water struck me on the arm—first one, then another, then another.

  Reluctantly pulling away again, I said, “Hold on a sec.”

  “What is it now?”

  “I’m being rained on.” Standing, I peered into the half-light of the cathedral ceiling twelve feet above us. “There’s a leak in the ceiling.” Another few drops of water struck me on the back of the neck and I shivered.

  “Another one?” Ryan sighed heavily as he stood up, walking over to inspect the leak. “At least we’re having it looked at in a few hours.”

  “Right, but what can we do in the meantime?” I wasn’t eager to sleep in the same spot, getting dripped on for the rest of the night.

  “We could go to my place,” said Ryan with a shrug. He’d been sleeping over so often lately, I sometimes forgot he had a home of his own. “You’d get a few hours in, at least.”

  It was a sign of how frustrating the last hour had been that we weren’t even thinking about making love anymore. “I don’t feel like going anywhere tonight.”

  “It’s not like I live far away, Peyton. It’s right next door.”

  “I know, but I’m tired. I want to stay here.” I also didn’t want to deal with his two enormous dogs who wanted nothing more than to shower me with their love, in the form of dog drool and dog hair.

  “We could sleep in one of your guest rooms then,” he offered optimistically.

  “There’s one guest room with a bed we could try.”

  Ryan nodded as he grabbed his phone and wallet from the nightstand and clicked on the flashlight app until his phone lit up like a beacon in the dark. He reminded me of a caretaker in a castle from an old movie carrying a candle on a plate. “Ready?”

  I stood by the bed, hesitant. “I should warn you that the window faces the street, and the streetlamp is very bright. Even with the shutters closed, the room is flooded with light at four a.m.”

  “Guess we’ll be up at four a.m. then.”

  I nodded and followed him down the hallway and up one flight of stairs before we reached the guest room. I was so tired, I could barely keep myself upright. Once we saw the bed, I threw back the coverlet, crawled underneath it and moaned when my head dropped onto the pillow. I was already starting to drift off when a swoosh of wind caught my attention. I opened one eye to see Drake gliding through the wall.

  Mon chaton, he started.

  Not now, Drake, I thought, I’m just about to pass out.

  Why have you moved into this bedroom?

  The ceiling is leaking in my room.

  I do not like being disallowed entry to your bedchamber, so I must find solace elsewhere and now you are here, invading my solitude.

  Ryan crawled into bed beside me, completely unaware that I was having a conversation with Drake in my head. Ryan pulled the coverlet over us both and gripped me around the waist, pulling me close to him. Then he draped his heavy arm over my midsection.

  “’Night,” he whispered.

  “’Night, Ryan,” I whispered back.

  Well, are you going to respond? Drake insisted.

  Ugh, you are so annoying! You can go hang out in my room now, if you want to.

  This is quite unfair, mon chaton. This is my house too and I should be allowed to freely roam.

  I’m not in the mood to listen to you feeling sorry for yourself, I grumbled in thought.

  You are in quite a mood.

  Because I’m exhausted, I’m sick of being rained on and I’m not looking forward to going head to head with your nephew in a conflict over who has the legal right to this house.

  Well, upon that subject, I am forever on your side, ma minette. But this you already know.

  Mm-hmm.

  What does that mean? He made a feeble attempt to replicate the “mm-hmm” sound which, it only now occurred to me, might not have been an expression in his time.

  It means I agree with you.

  Ah. He was quiet for a few moments. I trust your lovemaking appeased you?

  Oh, my God, I grumbled. We are not discussing that right now.

  You are in quite an odious mood, so perhaps it did not appease you?

  It never happened, I said before immediately regretting it. Drake was a snoop and then some.

  Never happened?

  I exhaled a long breath and figured I might as well get the explanation out of the way because Drake wouldn’t leave me alone otherwise. I started getting rained on, so Ryan and I stopped fooling around to find a better place to sleep and now, here we are.

  I would never have allowed a few drops of rain to interfere in an event where you and your… satisfaction were concerned, mon cherie.

  Good to know.

  In my day…

  I already know, I interrupted him. You were once a notorious lothario. Blah blah blah.

  Yes, quite so.

  If I had an award, I’d give it to you.

  Do not sound so condescending, ma minette! replied Drake in a tone of wistfulness as he sighed. With this body and face, can you blame the women of my time?

  I don’t blame them and I don’t blame you and I don’t blame me. I just want to get some sleep.

  You have yet to apologize for driving me from my own bedchamber earlier when all I was looking for was a bit of conversation.

  It’s not your bedchamber, it’s mine.

  Only because I lack the need to sleep.

  Whatever the reason, it’s my bedroom. Not yours.

  It was once mine.

  That was a long time ago.

  Ugh! You are quite disagreeable, Drake finished. With a melodramatic sigh, he disappeared from view.

  Ryan stirred beside me and exhaled deeply. “How long has it been since these sheets were washed?”

  “Just last week. Why?”

  “Just wondering. I know you’re allergic to housework so I got worried for a second or two.”

  “Ha ha, funny,” I grumbled. Then I figured I should explain why I washed them because he was right: in general, I did try to avoid housework. “I figured Maggie would sleep in here and that’s why I washed the sheets and made the bed.”

  “Maggie?”

  “Um, she’s my cousin who’s coming to stay with me for two weeks. You already forgot?”

  “Yeah.”

  Sensing that he was annoyed about something, I continued, “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s nothing,” he said slowly, “it’s just… we’ve already got one permanent guest in this house, and now we’ll be hosting someone else for the next two weeks. I wonder how long until we have privacy again.”

  “Is that what you’re so bent out of shape about?” I stroked his shoulder gently with my freshly manicured nails. “First of all, it’s not like Maggie plans to be in our bedroom twenty-four/seven. She’s bookish and introverted; at an age where all she wants is to be alone.”

  “I don’t want to come off as selfish for wanting you alone sometimes. It’s just—we haven’t exactly had any us time since we started dating, have we? There’s always someone else involved despite never being invited.”

  Although Ryan was too polite to name names, I knew exactl
y whom he meant. “I’ll talk to him in the morning, or whenever we get back from our meeting.” I gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek. “Drake might be sullen and melodramatic, but he respects boundaries.” “Where are we going to sleep, though? If Maggie is sleeping in here, I mean.”

  I hadn’t thought about that yet. “Hopefully, the ceiling will be fixed by tomorrow night. If not, there’re plenty of other rooms in the house.”

  “Why are you so opposed to staying at my house?” Ryan muttered.

  “I can’t leave Maggie here by herself.”

  “She wouldn’t be by herself.”

  “Drake doesn’t count.”

  “Ugh,” he grumbled before remaining quiet.

  It was rare we went to bed feeling frustrated with each other, but the past hour was a cascading series of inconveniences. It was beginning to feel like we were cursed. Probably all romantic relationships felt like that at some point. Reaching for his hand, I said, “On the bright side, at least we’re not trapped inside a haunted hotel.”

  “Dream still bothering you?” asked Ryan sleepily.

  “More than it should, probably.” I kept picturing the sweaty face of the cigar-smoking woman. “I remember there was something else that unsettled me.”

  “What was it?”

  “During the entire dream, I felt like I was being controlled by someone. Someone I couldn’t see. Like my actions were being directed.” I remembered not being able to move my feet.

  “That’s the nature of dreams, isn’t it?” Ryan was beginning to drift off again now, his voice growing fainter. “You can’t always control them, even when you want to.”