The knock wasn’t loud. It wasn’t urgent. It was hesitant and polite. The sound made me tingle from my head to my squished toes.
“Who is it?” I called out, and then smacked myself in the head. I sucked at stuff like this. “Wait. Scrap that. Knock again.”
His laugh made me smile. Donna and Karen bounded over and sat at my feet.
“Do not attack him,” I whispered. “He’s here for me. Cool?”
Donna barked and wagged her tail. Karen turned in a circle and trotted back to the kitchen. Most likely to scrounge for food.
“How do I look?” I asked Donna, who barked her approval.
“You look like a princess,” Gram announced with a bevy of squatters floating around her.
“Thank you,” I said then narrowed my gaze at her. “Are you guys going to just hang out?”
“You bet your bippy we are,” Gram said as the ghosts began to shriek and dance midair. “We’re your backup.”
“Thought this was my fight,” I reminded her.
“We’re also nosey,” she added with a wink. “You won’t even know we’re here.”
“Doubtful,” I muttered and turned back to the door.
When the knock came a second time, I said nothing. I’d already screwed up round one. This time I was going to play it cool, or as cool as I could. Opening the door, I grabbed the frame to steady myself, so I didn’t fall like a sack of potatoes at his feet.
Gideon wore a black tux and carried a bouquet of sparkling gold flowers like the ones from my dream. His aura was powerful, but the look of insecurity in his eyes matched mine. My instinct was to reach out and hug him, but I hesitated. I wasn’t good at role-playing games, so I waited to follow his lead.
“I’m Gideon,” he said, extending his hand.
“I’m Daisy,” I replied, biting back the grin threatening to overtake my mouth. I took his hand in mine.
The electricity was real. It shot right up my arm, and I gasped.
“That’s one heck of a handshake,” I told him with a raised brow.
He nodded and held out the golden bouquet. “Very rare that it happens that way. Once-in-a-lifetime rare. It’s lovely to meet you, Daisy.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I said, taking the flowers. I wanted to jump him. That would be horrifying. Not that I thought he would mind, but it was uncool and unsophisticated. Plus, I was wearing heels. Knowing me, if I went for it, I’d land on my ass in a crumpled pile at his feet. It wasn’t the way I wanted to start over. Not to mention, Gram and the squatters were watching. “These are beautiful.”
“They’re appropriate. Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.”
“You’re doin’ great, boy,” Gram shouted as the dead chattered and hissed their agreement.
“We have an audience,” I said with a wince. “Sorry about that.”
“Not a problem,” Gideon replied then nodded at Gram.
“Keep goin’,” Gram yelled. “Tell her a little about yourself.”
“Okay, I’m older than dirt and have a very unusual job,” Gideon informed me with a twinkle in his eye.
“Really?” I asked, doing my best not to laugh. “I might have you beat in the job department, but I’m only forty. How old are you, if I may be so bold as to ask?”
Gideon grinned. “Isn’t that a rude question?”
“Only if you’re a girl,” I replied.
Gideon looked down and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m definitely not a girl.”
“Definitely not,” Gram shouted as the ghosts laughed like it was the funniest joke they’d ever heard.
I clearly had competition as the comedian to the dead…
“Thanks, Gram. I can handle it from here.”
“You’ve got this, Daisy girl,” Gram said, flying around the living room like she was wasted. “Alrighty, dead people. Follow me. I’m gonna introduce you to the greatest show in the Universe… The Price is Right!”
In a gust of wind that blew my hair around my head, Gram and her posse disappeared.
“Where did they go?” Gideon asked.
“Probably the kitchen,” I told him. “There’s a TV in there.”
“I know,” he replied.
He did know. He’d spent a few hours in my kitchen whipping up gourmet meals, including the best pancakes I’d ever eaten. But that was before we’d knocked our metaphorical house down. He would have to earn his way back into the kitchen, and I’d have to earn his trust that he’d be safe and loved.
“So, your age?” I repeated, grinning.
“Let’s just say it’s in the upper-million range,” he replied and waited for a reaction.
I didn’t bat an eye. “So, basically, you’re telling me you’re a cradle robber? Not that forty is cradle material, but you get my drift.”
His laugh delighted me, and I wanted to make him laugh again.
“Yes. Yes, you could basically say that. However, there’s only one cradle I’m interested in robbing.”
“Smooth,” I said, leaning on the frame of the door. “Does that line work for you?”
“I have no clue. Did it?” he shot right back, looking at me like I was good enough to eat.
“Umm… yes,” I said as I felt a blush crawl up my neck and land on my cheeks. “I’d invite you in, but it’s starting to get late, and I think we need to know each other a little better before we take the next step.”
“I agree,” Gideon replied without hesitation. “You have no issue that I’m the Grim Reaper?”
“Nope,” I said. “As long as you don’t wear a cheesy black cape and carry a scythe, I’m cool.”
He shook his head with amusement. “Noted.”
“And you’re fine that I live with dead squatters, partake in questionably legal activities to help them and own a Hell Hound?”
“I find that wildly attractive,” he replied with a look that made my insides dance with desire.
“Mmkay,” I said, backing away so I didn’t tackle him and beg him for a kiss. “That’s very flattering. I would definitely like to get to know you better.”
“That can be arranged. It would be my pleasure. And Daisy… I want you to know, I would have aided you in the tribunal even if our house was beyond repair.”
I nodded and wanted to cry. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.”
“As am I,” he said, growing serious. “You’re a first for me, Daisy. I don’t know how to do this. There is a fine chance I’ll do something very wrong again.”
“Look,” I said, taking his hand and leading him over to the porch swing. We both sat down. “There’s an insanely fine chance that I’m going to screw up too. But Gram is right. We need a foundation to rock. I want that.”
Gideon wrapped his strong arms around me and held me close. It felt like home. I could die happy in his arms.
“The tribunal will not be pleasant,” he whispered.
“I didn’t think it would. Nothing worth it is,” I said. “But I’ll tell you now, I will win.”
“I believe you,” he said. “However, the journey will be dangerous. Crossing planes and bringing justice to ills that are millions of years old has not been done.”
“Not real encouraging,” I muttered, cuddling closer.
“The barrier between worlds may be thin, but not all that lies behind it is savage.”
“Meaning what?” I asked, leaning back and searching his face.
“It means I’m on your side. Always, Daisy. No matter what happens with us, I will be on your side.”
“Can I jump ahead in the house foundation rules?” I asked, not one to play games.
“Does my opinion matter?” he inquired with a smile.
“Umm… no,” I said with a laugh, and then turned serious. “Gideon, I love you. I never fell out of love with you, and I’m not sure I ever could. I was wrong not to trust you and from now on, I promise to talk to you before I make life-altering decisions that require me to go to Hell and drag your ass back.”
&
nbsp; Gideon sighed and shook his head. Wasn’t the reaction I wanted, but…
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” I told him as my chin dropped to my chest. “I get it. I’m not exactly as much of a prize as you are and—”
“Daisy, stop,” Gideon insisted, putting his hand under my chin and raising my gaze to his. “You are a prize beyond my wildest dreams. I’m not sure I deserve your love, but I refuse to let it go. I want all of you—your body, your mind, your soul and your love. I want to be seen by someone who makes me feel alive. You make me feel things that I thought were lost. I love you, and there’s very little you can do to change that.”
“Your declaration was better than mine.”
Gideon threw his head back and laughed. “I disagree.” He hauled me to my feet. “I want to kiss you.”
“Works for me,” I replied.
As he lowered his mouth to mine, I forgot how to breathe. His lips gently parted mine, and I felt all of his beautiful words in a physical way. The entire world around us evaporated and we floated on air.
This man had been created to kiss. Suddenly I understood the poems that described kissing as melting. Every inch of me dissolved into him. Gideon stole my breath as his tongue searched my mouth with a ravenous desire. I stole his right back. Right now, I had no clue where I began and he ended. It was perfect.
He slowly pulled back. His eyes were hooded with desire. My body felt like a live wire of need.
“Foundation,” he said, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to mine. “Have to build a foundation first.”
“You sure?” I asked, still breathing hard.
“As much as it pains me, and trust me, it pains me,” he said, referring to the large bulge in his pants. “We are going to say good night now.”
“You’re right,” I agreed.
“Damn, I was hoping you’d fight me on that.”
I laughed and shook my head. “Don’t tempt me. You going to be okay?” I asked, eyeing the front of his pants with concern.
“After a very long, cold shower, I think I’ll survive,” he said. “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Yes. You will definitely see me tomorrow. I think we should lay the concrete slabs first.”
Gideon raised a confused brow.
“You know, for the foundation.”
“Ahh, yes,” he said. “How long do you think it will take to get the bedroom finished?”
The loaded question delighted me.
“Umm… right after the concrete dries?”
“And how long will that take?” he inquired, enjoying the game.
“Depends on the weather.”
“Then I shall hope for a sunny day,” Gideon said as he stepped off the porch and into the sunset. “Will it freak you out if I transport away?”
“If I said yes, what would you do?”
“Walk home.”
“That’s about a ten-mile walk,” I told him.
He shrugged and grinned. “Worth every step.”
“Poof away, Grim Reaper,” I said with a wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“As you wish, Daisy.”
Chapter Nineteen
“That right there is not workin’ for me,” Gram said.
“It’s pretty bad,” I agreed, unsure what to do about it.
We were alone in the visitation room with Gram’s body only minutes before the funeral was to begin. Gram was about to birth a cow of a hissy fit, and I didn’t blame her.
Staring at the garishly awful bright red lipstick on her lips, I reached into my purse and dug around. I was careful since my hands were still bandaged due to the unattractive scabs. Thankfully, they were no longer swollen and sore.
“I think I have a better color,” I muttered.
“He turned me into a dang drag queen,” she complained as she zipped around the room in agitation. “If I had a dog that looked like that, I’d shave his butt and make him walk backwards.”
“Should we turn you over and expose your ass?” I suggested with a laugh.
“Might be an improvement,” Gram grumbled, shaking her head. “If I wasn’t dead, I’d jerk that Goober up by his tighty-whities and cancel his birth certificate.”
“That wouldn’t go over well,” I said, finding a tube in a nice shade of rust at the bottom of my bag. My first repair attempt was iffy. “What the heck? Is this crap painted on?”
Gram examined her face and snorted with disgust. “I have never,” she lamented. “Didn’t you tell that boy no red lipstick?”
“Yep,” I replied, trying to carefully cover the red with the rust. I eyed my handiwork and shrugged. “It’s a little better, but I can still see the red. That’s some heavy-duty shit.”
“I’m gonna haunt his ass,” Gram threatened.
“That’s just rude, and you will do no such thing,” I told her. “Goober is a nice man… with not-so-nice taste in lipstick.”
“You’d think a gay man wouldn’t make a woman look like a hooker at her own funeral,” Gram griped.
“I always wondered about that,” I said, putting on one more layer of lipstick.
“What? If I was a hooker or if Goober was gay?”
I rolled my eyes. “Not going to answer that, old lady. You have to behave at the funeral. I won’t be able to talk to you. You feel me?”
“Yep,” Gram said as she nodded with approval at the lip touch-up. “Not to worry. I brought a friend.”
“A friend or friends?” I asked, terrified I wouldn’t be able to act normally with thirty or so ghosts in attendance. It was difficult enough acting appropriately sad about Gram’s death in front of my friends.
Bizarrely, both Gram and I were happier now that she was dead. We were together all the time. She wasn’t in pain, and once she’d quit falling off the furniture, she was getting around like she had when she was young. Of course, every TV in the house was permanently set on the game show channel, but it was a small price to pay to still have Gram.
“Only brought one nice fella along to keep me company,” she announced with a wink.
“Who?”
“Jimmy Joe Johnson,” she replied, putting her hands over her heart and swooning like a schoolgirl. “Always did have a crush on that fine man when he was alive.”
“I give up. Which one is Jimmy Joe Johnson?”
There hadn’t been a lot of extra time this past week to help my squatters. Having to act like I was in mourning in front of Jennifer, Missy and June while planning Gram’s funeral was draining.
However, building a house with Gideon was magical.
The concrete foundation was coming along very nicely and the bedroom was partially finished. Not finished enough to bang but getting closer. We were both a little wary of the process, but took a few hours at the end of each day to talk. Gideon had millions of years’ worth of stories and I was fascinated by all of them. I felt boring in contrast, but he hung on my every word.
“I do believe you’ve proclaimed my Jimmy Joe as the Mayor of Squatter Town,” Gram said with a giggle.
“Your Jimmy Joe?” I asked, hiding the lipstick in the casket for a quick touch-up if needed. I wasn’t exactly going to use it again after smearing it on Gram’s dead lips.
“Yep. My Jimmy Joe,” she confirmed.
“The one who cries all the time?” I asked, unable to picture Gram with the poor man who lost his hands daily and sobbed at the drop of a hat.
“He’s a sensitive sort,” Gram said in his defense. “I like a man who can show his feelings.”
“He’s certainly cornered that market,” I said with a laugh of disbelief. “Gram?”
“Yes, sugar?”
“I’ve been wondering something. Can you talk with the others now that you’re dead?”
“Yep,” she said. “It’s not as clear as a conversation between you and me, but I can understand them more easily than you can.”
“Interesting.” I sat down and mulled over what she’d just said. “So, you could he
lp me help them? Faster than me using the Ouija board?”
Gram’s eyes lit up and she cartwheeled through the air. “Well, I bet I could,” she said, narrowly crashing into her own coffin. “The thought of it just dills my pickles. We could be a team of Death Counselors, Daisy girl!”
“I’d still have to use the Ouija board to mimic their handwriting,” I said, making a plan in my head of how it could work.
“Yep,” Gram agreed, checking out her lips. “That’s much better, child. The green eyeshadow is a bit much, but it looks nice with the dress I picked out.”
Gram had chosen and approved every detail of her funeral. It was surreal listening to her plan everything from the sermon to the songs. Her last wishes had definitely been met. Well, not the red lips but everything else, including a life-size photo of Bob Barker with Gram in her Sunday best superimposed right next to him. June had it made at the copy shop when I’d suggested it. I’d gotten a strange look from Goober when he saw it, but he covered his reaction quickly and congratulated me on a creative way to honor Gram. Missy had laughed until she’d cried and said that Gram would have loved being with her boyfriend for all the town to see.
Little did Missy know it was Gram’s idea in the first place. Not exactly proper, but Gram and I weren’t exactly proper either.
Jennifer had been devastated by Gram’s death. She’d privately shared every moment of Gram’s last hours with me. Told me over and over how honored she’d been to be there.
I loved Jennifer so much and wished with all my heart that I was able to tell her the truth. I couldn’t. I had no proof to show her. It would be unkind, and she would think I’d snapped. One of the bright spots was that she and Dip Doody were going strong.
Chief Doody, along with my new friend, anti-vibrator Tim, were among the pallbearers. Gram had also chosen Gideon and Candy Vargo. The choice of Candy Vargo was surprising, but Gram had pointed out that the woman would probably commit the sin of wearing pants to the funeral and be the subject of gossip for years to come. Gram wanted to save the hot mess from the vicious biddies in our town. Gram swore it was appropriate for a woman to wear trousers if she had to carry a damn coffin.
Whose Midlife Crisis Is It Anyway? : A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel: Good To The Last Death Book Two Page 19