Incorporeal (2 page)

“
So aren’t you excited?” Dalton jostled her shoulder as the two stood in line to buy their coffee. “Leah Rosen wants to meet you. You get to pick her up at the airport. What a coup!”

Sara paid for two coffees and handed a cup to her friend. “I don’t know. I’m pretty nervous. I’m still not clear on how she learned about me.”

“
I am.” Dalton winked at her. “It was Geri. She knows somebody who knows somebody, and after she read your manuscripts, well, she called him. Mark Katov. He read all three of your books. Can you believe it?” Dalton pounded her on the back. “He said you’d be perfect for Leah Rosen. She’ll be in town for one day before she heads to San Jose for a week-long conference and she needs someone to chauffer her around the city. He gave her your name and described your stories. Geri figures it will be a great opportunity for you to meet her in person and talk to her about your books, especially this new one. Geri loves it. I love it, Sara. It’s great. They’re all great. I have no idea how you dream up these ideas.”

Sara couldn’t help it, she laughed. “Overactive imagination, I guess.” She looked for an empty table, but they were all taken. “Want to go outside, sit in the sun?”

“
Sure.”

The two women found a small table along the wrought iron rail overlooking the river. The morning was still brisk; Sara pulled on her jacket. “Are you warm enough?” she asked Dalton.

“
Oh yeah, I’m wearing this thick sweater. I’m fine. The sun feels good. So tell me,” Dalton slid her chair up to the table and sat down, “what exactly did Geri say?”

“
Well, she was a little vague on the details, but she asked me to pick Leah Rosen up at the airport on Friday. I think her plane gets in around one, so that means I need to ask my boss for the day off.”

“
And get your car washed?” Dalton asked.

“
Yeah.” Sara grinned. “No shit, get my car washed and vacuumed. It’s disgusting right now, a mud pit.”

“
Where will you take her? What do you think you’ll do?”

Sara pulled the lid off her coffee cup, to let the brew cool down. “I don’t know how you drink it right out of the pot. It’s way too hot for me.”

“
Who cares about the coffee? Where will you take her?”

“
I don’t know. Geri said not to make any plans, that Leah would tell her what she wants to do. I hope it doesn’t involve a lot of driving in the city because you know me, I never drive there. I take mass transit and I walk. I only know how to find my way to a couple places and I hate parking.” Sara sipped her coffee. It was still too hot for her.

“
What books are you gonna bring? You absolutely have to bring some of your manuscripts.”

Sara toyed with the plastic lid. “I haven’t thought about it. Maybe that’s kind of rude, you know, to hand her full-length manuscripts. I don’t even know the woman, other than by reputation. It seems kind of like objectifying her, as if she doesn’t matter as a person. I don’t want to be crass, act like she’s just a means to an end.”

“
Don’t be silly. That’s exactly what she is.” Dalton shook her head. “This is her job. It’s what Leah Rosen does. No, you have to take your manuscripts. What’s the worst she can say?”

“
Fuck off?” Sara laughed. “She can tell me to stick ‘em where the sun don’t shine?”

“
No.” Her friend was insistent. “This is what aspiring authors do. You have an opportunity here. Take the manuscripts. She’ll be interested, I know it. You’ll be spending most of the day with her. The least she can do is check you out.” Dalton fanned herself. “Christ, your work makes me feel like I need to buy my own personal ice machine.”

Sara burst out laughing. “I wish I had your confidence.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“
Hey, I’m telling you, this is what a publisher does, she reads submissions. Geri told me she gave Leah Rosen all the details, and Leah said she wants to meet with you. What are you worried about?” Dalton reached for Sara’s hand and squeezed it. “What have you got to lose?”

Sara gave a little cough. “Nothing but my pride,” she said. “I’m not a kiss-up.”

“
Would you like some lessons? ‘Cuz I can give you a few. I’m an expert in the art of butt-kissing.”

Both women laughed. Sara pressed the plastic lid back onto her coffee cup. “You want to walk downtown, share a sandwich or something?”

Dalton stood up and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Sure. Why not? I’ve got nowhere to be right now and we can talk about your delicious work in progress, or should I say, WIP?”

“
Work in progress is fine. LOL. Let’s go.”

Dalton threaded her arm through Sara’s. “So tell me, I want to hear all about your latest chapter. Your ghost hero sounds wickedly seductive.”

***

Sara pulled up to the curb in front of Dalton’s cottage.

“
You want to come in for a glass of wine?”

Sara considered following her friend inside. She wasn’t quite sure she was ready to go home and face her ghostly guest. “Nah, that’s sweet, but no thanks. I have to come up with some excuse to skip work on Friday, and if I’m going to put a professional package together for Leah Rosen, well, I’d better get to work on it.”

“
Okay.” Dalton leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “You let me know if you need any help, even if all you need is moral support. You call me any time. Bye”

“
I will. Bye, Dalton.” Sara waited to pull away until her friend had unlocked her front door and disappeared inside, a holdover from her childhood. Whenever her father had brought her home after one of their weekends together, he’d wait until she’d unlocked the front door and waved goodbye. Sara knew he wouldn’t leave until she’d closed the door behind her. Her father had loved her. Sara had never once doubted her father.

Maybe dad sent my ghost. Yeah, right. And I’m the president of the United States. No, he’s nothing more than a sticky ghost and for some reason, which he either refuses to explain or can’t explain; he’s stuck to me.

Forget the ghost, what about Leah Rosen? Geez, that’s a scary thought, me meeting with Leah Rosen. That frightens me far more than being haunted.
Sara shook her head.
I have to show her my best, nothing less will do
.
This might be my only chance to meet with a New York publisher face to face. And if she’d actually read my stuff? Wow.

Sara hadn’t approached an agent or a publisher in months. After two years of failed queries, she’d pretty much given up hope that someone would bother to read a single sentence of her work, let alone take her seriously as a writer.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Quit feeling sorry for yourself
.
Now’s your chance, don’t blow it
.

Chapter Two

Sara pulled her car into the garage. As she climbed out of the driver’s seat, her eyes were drawn to the last rays of the setting sun. Scattered clouds reflected gold and peach in a sky the color of a rich Maxfield Parrish blue. Entranced, she stood still and watched.

Sara sighed.
Sometimes a sunset is perfection
.

When the last lingering glow faded from the sky, she turned to shut the garage door. As she approached the front porch, a light blinked on in the house.
Damn ghost
. She noticed he’d been experimenting with his weird powers lately, trying to see how much his incorporeal self could get away with. He had Sara a little worried. It was one thing to hang out with a talking ghost, but a ghost who could actually do
stuff
? That was a horse of a different color. He did enough
stuff
to her in her dreams, knee-weakening
stuff
, tingly all over
stuff
.

Sara braced herself for the coming encounter. She wanted to enjoy a nice long bath, have a quick bite to eat, edit a few chapters in her new work and get to bed early. Weekends would be as perfect as that sunset if it wasn’t for the Mondays that followed them.

Sara unlocked the front door and turned the knob. Before she could take a step, it swung wide open and she nearly fell flat on her face.

“
Hey, ghost, knock it off,” Sara grumbled. Regaining her balance, she shut the door behind her. “Turning on a light is bad enough, but now you can open doors? Keep this up and I’m banishing you to the tool shed.”

“
A gentleman always opens a door for a lady.”

“
Oh yeah? Wherever did you get the idea you’re a gentleman?” Sara looked around, trying to locate him.

Apparently he decided to ignore her insult. “I’m right beside you.”

“
Do you mean that literally?”

“
Yes.”

Sara glanced to the right. He was nothing more than a faint glow. She walked past him, avoiding any hint of contact or interest.
As if we can actually make contact
.

Tossing her purse onto the coffee table, she turned to face him, or the middle of the room, or whichever came first. “Listen, Mr. No-Name Ghost, this situation is becoming untenable. You really need to move on.”

“
I’ve already told you, I can’t.”

“
Why? Why can’t you move on? I don’t understand.” There was no reply. “Look, I know your situation is different. You haven’t made a request of me, you haven’t rambled on about unfinished business. You haven’t asked me for a single thing.”

“
Except that you go to sleep at night. That’s all I ask.”

“
Yeah.” Sara was angry now. “So you can invade my dreams and take…”

“
Take what, Sara?”

She blushed. Goddamn it, she blushed. “Take what you want. I’m asleep, for Christ’s sake. I can’t give consent.”

“
Yes you can.”

“
No I can’t.” She stomped her foot. “I can’t give consent when I’m unconscious. I oughta have you arrested.”

“
By whom? The ghost police?” He laughed at her. “You’re not fooling anyone, woman; you not only give me consent, you welcome me with open arms. You love what I do to you in your dreams. You come alive in my arms.”

“
Hah.” Sara snorted. “In your dead dream ghost arms? Not much in the way of substance.”

He growled low in his throat, and Sara’s legs trembled, but not with fear. She was filled with a sudden desire to actually feel what the man was made of, the real man. Next thing she knew, the air whooshed out of her lungs and down she went, onto her backside on the couch.

Sara lifted her head and sucked in a breath. “How did you, how did you do that? You can’t. It’s not possible. That’s the second time you’ve shoved me today.”

“
Practice.”

“
P-p-practice? You’ve practiced throwing me around?”

“
Not you. Now go, get out of my sight. I know you want a bath and I’m too angry to even peek.”

“
Peek?” Sara squeaked out the word. “You’ve been peeking?”

Nothing.

“
Hey, you ghost, don’t you dare disappear on me!”

Still nothing. Sara closed her eyes and reached out with every sense she possessed. She knew he’d vanished again. With groan of exasperation, Sara rose from the couch, wondering how he’d knocked her backwards and why he needed to practice.

Well, at least I’ll get to take my bath without prying eyes
. All of a sudden, Sara wasn’t so sure she didn’t want his prying eyes. She had to admit she found it arousing, the thought that he might watch her bathe.

Since he’d appeared in her home, her dreams had become increasingly sexual; hot, sensuous, and truth be told, loving. Somehow he managed to touch her in ways she’d never been touched before. It was as if he possessed the power to reach inside her chest and heal her heart. She felt like he saw the real her.

How weird
.

The very first time she’d heard his voice, she’d stopped feeling so alone.

I don’t even know what he looks like. I mean, not really. I’ve seen parts of him
. Sara couldn’t hold back a grin at the memory of the parts she’d seen.

I’ve seen his eyes, his lips, his body, but never all at once. He’s kind of fragmented in my dreams. Whatever it is he’s doing, whatever I’m doing to him, that’s what I see. Sometimes I’m aware of his eyes gazing into mine. His are blue, I think. Yes, blue, I’m sure of it, because I do dream in color.

If he’s kissing me, I see his mouth. His lips are full and soft and warm.
Sara sighed.
His body is hard and demanding. God, he’s so ripped. And the rest of him…yum.
Sara shivered.
Go, Sara, take your bath while your legs will still carry you up the stairs. Hmm, maybe I should take an ice bath instead of a hot bath.

Sara trotted up the stairs and started the water running. She could always… No, she couldn’t. Could she? Despite his claim to the contrary, he might be nearby. Getting naked was enough of a risk, although Sara had to admit, there was a certain appealing kinkiness about the knowledge that her ghost might watch. The very idea was as delicious as it was naughty.

I’m not an exhibitionist. At least I wasn’t an exhibitionist two months ago
.

***

Nathan paced outside the closed bathroom door. He heard Sara splashing in the tub. Damn, he wanted to be in there with her, but he’d promised her some privacy. What he wouldn’t give to possess a body so he could touch her anytime he wanted to, not just when he entered her dreams.