Dead People (34 page)

Men’s egos were as fragile as newly fallen snowflakes. “I suppose that makes you Han Solo.”

“And you’re Princess Leia.” He grinned, the skin crinkling around his eyes.

She suddenly felt overheated in her cocoon and threw back the corners of the blanket. Then she realized what they were doing. Flirting again. Like real life versions of Princess Leia and Han Solo.

He arched one eyebrow. “You have a problem with Princess Leia?”

Wild laughter rang inside her head. “Nancy was perfect. Leia wasn’t. I have more in common with her than Nancy any day.”

The eyebrow remained lifted. “I’d rather bang Leia than Nancy any day.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” she asked, even as she knew she shouldn’t. To the male mind, any conversation about banging instantly raised the possibility of banging. They automatically assumed you wanted it.

And didn’t she?

She lifted her hand, cutting off what he was about to say—from the gleam in his eyes, something wicked. A shiver tiptoed up and down her skin and her cheeks warmed. She didn’t want to know what emotion her eyes showed.

“This is a bad idea.”

His smile remained half cocked. “Looking for the hidden passage?”

She noticed the change of wording—as if
hidden
was more grown up than
secret
. “You know what I mean.”

“No.” He changed position, his legs braced as if for an attack, his smile gone. “But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“We’re not good for each other.” Her words fell heavily in the air like small bombs.

“Why bring that up? We’re searching for a hidden passage, nothing more.”

“Come on, I know the hidden passage you want to explore.”

He laughed.
Oh God! Did I say that?
She buried her face in her hands and wondered whether he’d notice if she pulled the blanket over her head.

Although her eyes were closed, she knew when he leaned over her and gripped the chair arms on either side of her. Trapping her.

His arms brushed against hers. His breath warmed her exposed right ear. Heat radiated from his body to hers. She smelled his scent, dark and musky, reminding her of when she bent between his legs in his studio and wrapped her hand around his erection, the other hand squeezing his buttock.

“You know what I have in my pocket?” he whispered.

Was he alluding to his penis? She buried her face deeper into her hands and shook her head.

“Two condoms.”

She winced into her palms. She supposed she asked for that, talking about her “hidden passages.”

Something pressed against the top of her head. A kiss. Warming her on the inside as well as the outside.
 

This was ridiculous, sitting here like an ostrich. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head.

“I should leave.”

“But you’re not going to.” His voice was husky.

“Not because of what you think.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “Because I’m not too stupid to live.”

His smirk changed to a “what now?” grimace.

“Despite what the sheriff thinks,” she continued, “I didn’t steal drugs from the clinic and put them in my drink. Someone else did. Someone set me up. Someone tried to kill me.”

With every word, she raised her head higher. He straightened, stepping back, the mood in the room changed, her words as effective as if she’d dumped a bucket of ice on both of them.

“I’ve met a lot of dead people wandering the earth. I work with them, but I don’t want to live with them.”

“Should I be flattered you prefer me to death?” He stood like a fighter, his head down, his legs braced.

“I don’t have to stay here to live. I can hop in my car and drive away.”

“You can’t leave,” he said quickly. “You don’t have your strength back.”

Was that dismay flickering across his face?

Something fluttered inside her. Tiny and fragile, like butterfly wings.

Hope?

Oh God, she was pathetic. She was the one who didn’t want a relationship. He was willing.

Laughter exploded in her mind. Of course he was willing. She was a woman around the right age and with the right equipment.
Between them, they created enough chemistry to blow up a high school science lab. But if she drove away he’d forget about her in a couple days. He’d be attracted to another woman, while she’d picture him for the next decade every time she used Hunk.

The flutter inside her stilled. “I’m not denying there’s something between us. It doesn’t matter. It stops here.”

“I don’t hash over emotions.” He rubbed his chin. “But I’ve gotta ask. Why?”

“Because you think I’m a freak.”

“Freak is a strong word.” His expression was tender. “The wrong word. I think you’re lovely.”

She gritted her teeth to hold back a rush of emotion. No one had ever called her
lovely
.
Strange, weird, freaky
were more common. And from her stepmother, another word.
Diet.
Every Christmas when she was a teen she got another year’s membership to the local health club.

But he said she was lovely.
Lovely.

She pushed up from the chair. She was softening again. There should be a warning in the prescription the doctor gave her:
Caution: For those users recovering from attempted murder, there is a 99.9% chance this can sharpen your libido and dull every working cell in your brain.

Luke reached forward to help her up, but she shook away his grip on her elbow.

“I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

“It won’t go away,” he said.

She glanced down at the bulge in the front of his jeans. “It always goes away.”

He laughed and she stifled another groan. There she went again. She didn’t need sleep, she needed a muzzle.

He could look for the passage without her. She’d already checked out every shelf in the library. It must be somewhere else. But he was a man. He had to see for himself.

Three minutes later, in her temporary bedroom, she groped through the top dresser drawer. She burned inside, in
every
place. But when her hand curved around Hunk, she knew the vibrator wouldn’t satisfy her. Not today. It wasn’t Hunk she wanted. It was—

“I don’t understand you.”
 

“Eek!” She jumped, her heart leaping up into her throat, holding Hunk like a weapon. Seeing her best friend floating a few inches above the floor, she dropped her arm. Joe’s gaze followed her hand.

“Will you put that thing away?” His face turned bluish purple.

She stifled a giggle and tossed Hunk in the drawer, then closed it to make sure Joe didn’t get a peek that would dent his ghostly sensibilities.

“I was in the library,” he said.

She stood still. If he’d been in the library, she should have sensed his presence.

Why hadn’t she?

The answer came in a rush. Too focused on Luke. Instead of thinking with her brain she’d been thinking with her vagina.

“I don’t like to see you this way.” He gestured at the drawer. “I don’t like it that you’re using a mechanical substitute when you can have the real thing.”

Just what she needed. Ghostly advice on her sex life.

She hobbled past him and sagged onto the bed, the energy drained from her, sexual and otherwise. “I can’t believe you
want
me to have sex with a man. You’re always telling me not to.”

“None of them were good for you.”

“But Luke is?” A small flame of hope rekindled in her chest. She trusted Joe’s opinion.

“He’s...okay.” A ghost of a grin flickered on his handsome face. “For a live man.”

“Idiot.” She pulled the covers up to her neck.
 

He settled onto the edge of the bed, carefully not sitting his ghostly butt on her legs, as if she would feel his non-weight.

Sometimes, she thought, he forgot he wasn’t alive. If he were a real man... She pictured herself tossing Hunk into the trash.

Sighing, she turned off the mental image.

He frowned. “I have to leave soon. My partner’s great-granddaughter needs me. She might be stepping into danger.”

Don’t go. Don’t leave me.
She sucked in air and dredged up a smile, trying to think of something happy to make her expression seem real—puppies, kittens, the sun shining. “She’s lucky to have you looking after her. I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll come back to mess with you. And I’m not leaving yet. I can’t leave until you’re out of danger.”

Tears burned her eyes but she kept the damn smile on her face. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay. Life goes on.”

“Does it? Then why don’t you give Luke a chance?”

She let her smile drop. “If you think Luke wants anything more than a few hot and sweaty rolls in the hay, you’re mistaken. He wants me sexually—” She stopped and shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation. You’ve spent the last three years repelling interested men, not telling me to jump them.”

“It’s not about sex.”

“If you believe that, you’ve been dead too long.”
 

“He likes you. He wants to protect you. He doesn’t mind...”

“My ghost friends?” She laughed harshly, her head flinging back, hitting the headboard. She made a face, her laughter stopped. Leaning forward, she rubbed the back of her head. “You’re misreading the signs. He
hates
it that I’m different. Just this morning I saw him doubting me.”

“So he doubts you. He’s human. He’s alive. Live men don’t know. You have to teach them.”

“I tried that once.” She heard the tightness of her voice. “The only one who learned a lesson was
moi.
You want to know what I learned?”

He shook his head, his mouth twisted as if he’d seen something ugly.

“I learned that even if they go into the relationship with the best of intentions, they can’t change their inner convictions. They can’t change the “ick” factor that’s an inherent part of them.”

“You’re talking about your ex.” He sighed. “So he cheated on you. It happens to a lot of people, but they don’t let it ruin their lives.”

A black cloud draped over Cassie’s shoulders. Joe was leaving soon. Her confidant, her friend. “It was more than that.” She heard her voice, dispirited, flat...self-pitying. Considering the subject, she thought Joe would understand, but still she infused energy into her voice. She didn’t want him to remember her as “the whining woman.”

“Frank was an English professor at Northwestern. He used to tell his friends I was a therapist, but he never mentioned my patient specialty. I met him when he was writing a ghost story for a literary magazine. He didn’t believe me at first, he thought I was an opportunist.” She laughed harshly. “I should have wondered why, if he thought I was shallow, unethical and a liar, he still dated me.”

“What I can’t figure is why
you
were with
him,
” Joe said.

Cassie shrugged. “It’s not like men were lining up to date me. He asked me to marry him. We planned on marrying in a year, but ten months later I went to his office. It was the size of a closet and the door didn’t latch properly. I opened it and found him screwing one of his students. On the way out, I saw a box with my name on it. I grabbed it.”

She paused, her throat dry. The remembered taste of vomit came up her throat. She grabbed the glass of water from the nightstand and gulped down half the contents. It was warm but the moisture soothed her throat.

“The box.” Joe’s face looked hard. She could easily imagine him as the bad cop in an interrogation. “What was in it? Some kind of home movies of you and him in your private moments?”

“Porn? You’re way off.” The rueful twist of his mouth made her smile—for one second. “He’d taped me talking about my meetings with ghosts. Beneath the tapes, I found a proposal to sell my stories to a publisher. That night he called to grovel. But it wasn’t me he wanted, it was the tapes. When I pretended not to know what he was talking about, he said some ugly things. A typical bastard. Nothing special.”

“What ugly things?”

“The word
freak
was used.
Weirdo. Insane. Certifiable
. The usual.” She shrugged. “I’ve heard it all before. He wasn’t original.”

“Listen to me, Cassie.” He leaned closer, his expression intent. “The crime isn’t that he said it. The crime is that you believed it.”

She looked down at her hands clasped on top of the blanket, over her stomach. “Maybe I believed it once. I don’t believe it now. I knew beforehand what he thought, but wanted to believe he’d change his mind. That he—” She bit back the words hovering on her tongue. Too pitiful to admit she wanted to believe he loved her.

Joe nodded, his expression sad. She knew she’d get no more advice from him on giving Luke a chance.

“Close your eyes,” Joe said.

She wilted against the pillow, breathing in and out, exhausted. She was on the edge of sleep when a touch startled her into awareness. A human touch. She opened her eyes.

“Joe!”