Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
He did three hours in the booth. It wasn’t excruciating, but it wasn’t his idea of a good time, either.
Diana showed up the last hour and wandered around the festival, poking in and out of booths, talking to people, buying things.
He watched her move around the square whenever he wasn’t talking to someone, studying the liquid grace that infused her limbs, the elegance that oozed from her as she glided along, picking things up with her graceful hands and then taking money from her purse and handing it over.
Every time she’d walk by his booth, she had another bag.
“She’s different,” Blaze said.
Ghost felt his belly clench. “Different how?” The question was a growl.
“I mean since we first met her. She was reserved, cool, maybe even uptight. That’s not an uptight woman.”
Diana threw her head back, laughing as Violet did a cartwheel and then raced around like somebody’d injected her veins with pure sugar.
Which, considering the half-eaten caramel apple on a stick that Paisley was carrying, that’s exactly what was going on.
Violet jumped up and down, twirled, and skipped away.
Paisley let her, though she called out for her to be careful, to watch where she was going, and for heaven’s sake not to run over her Aunt Hettie who’d stooped to open her arms for Violet to run into. One stiff breeze would blow Hettie Woods over, so that was probably a good idea.
“She likes your women. They’re good to her,” Ghost said. “And she likes this town. Something about Hallmark movies, but I don’t watch those so I have no idea.”
Blaze snickered. “You don’t, huh?”
Ghost gave his best I am your commanding officer, proceed with caution look. “Do you?”
“I do. I mean I didn’t until Emma came along, but they have this whole Christmas in July thing I had to watch.
Trust me, I wasn’t about to argue with a hormonal pregnant woman.
” He shrugged. “They aren’t all bad. Some of them are silly, but some can be pretty good.
It’s mostly small-town shit. Big city girl moves to small town, falls in love with a small-town guy, they have some trouble, things almost end between them, and then it all works out.
Though sometimes it’s the big city guy who comes to the small town. Or a prince. I’ve seen those, too.”
Ghost shook his head. “Sounds like I’d rather get punched in the face. Repeatedly.”
Blaze laughed. “That, too. But hey, if it makes her happy….”
Ghost watched Diana smiling and strolling with the One Shot Tactical women—they’d all shown up at the festival, and Daphne had left the booth to join them for a little bit—and decided that, yeah, if it made her happy, he could probably watch one or two of those movies.
Then he’d get her to watch something with him.
The one where Santa Claus was a Viking badass drunk with an attitude and no tolerance for bullshit, maybe.
Explosions, violence, bad guys getting what was coming to them.
Then again, that wasn’t exactly a movie made for cuddling. If sappy Christmas shit made Diana want to cuddle, then whatever.
It hit him like a brick to the side of the head what he’d been thinking. Diana. Him. Christmas.
It was October. Next month was Thanksgiving—which she’d talked about last night. And then Christmas.
He’d still be here for Christmas. The Athena launch had been pushed back to January now. He expected it to get pushed farther. That was the nature of government projects. They never came in on time or under budget.
And right now, he didn’t give a shit. Let Athena take months. Let him spend those months between Diana’s creamy thighs, finding heaven with every stroke of his body into hers. Every kiss, every touch, every second with her—they were a revelation he wasn’t tired of exploring.
Last night, in her bed, he’d told her about his mom’s death.
He hadn’t planned to, but it came tumbling out.
There was still so much he hadn’t said, but what he’d told her had taken a lot of effort.
He didn’t talk about it. To anyone. There was nothing anyone could do to fix it, and he’d had time to learn how to deal with the things that’d happened.
Talking about it, reliving it, hurt.
He’d done it, though. And he felt somehow lighter for having done so. Wasn’t perfect. Wasn’t magically healed. But he felt better for it.
He was used to dealing with his emotions in private, and that had been his initial urge. But her voice, so sweet and gentle, had made him want to stay. To burrow into her and see if it was easier to have someone hold him.
Turned out it was.
He watched the townsfolk moving through the square, feeling almost like he belonged in this place, too.
The sun shone down, sparkling in the water tinkling in the fountain.
The statue of Jacob Sutton gazed out on the town he’d founded, birds flitted among the trees, and the town council had lined the walkways with pumpkins and gourds to signal the season.
It was Alabama in October. Not exactly chilly, but the days were growing shorter and cooler and there was at least one intrepid vendor with hot apple cider and hot chocolate on offer.
Wendy Cochran’s booth was selling pumpkin spice lattes, because of course they were, and she had pumpkin spice muffins and hot apple fritters for sale too.
There was also ice cream and sweet tea on offer, because the temps would be in the low seventies at mid-day. All the bases were covered.
Colleen Wright appeared in a flowing burnt orange caftan with a matching turban. She almost glided through the crowd, stopping here and there, before she slid up to the One Shot Tactical booth.
Ghost eyed her. She eyed him back, smiling. Then she fished a cigarette from her voluminous pocket, a pack of matches, and lit up.
“Ah, that’s better,” she said after blowing out a cloud of smoke. Her voice was roughened from years of smoking, and her fingers were yellowed around the nails.
“How’s business, Mrs. Wright?”
“Please, call me Colleen. Business is great, my dear man. It’s my busy time of year. The spirits are restless.”
Ghost handed her a flyer. “We can help with preparation. Fighting skills. That kind of thing.”
She eyed him. Tucked the flyer into her pocket. “You tease, and I understand why, but this is no joking matter. The spirits have been very clear for once.”
“Oh yeah? About what?”
“You.”
Ghost put a hand to his chest, feigning astonishment. Colleen’s eyes narrowed. Really, he shouldn’t tease her. She was a kind soul, just a little kooky.
“What did they tell you, ma’am?”
Blaze was mercifully occupied with talking to a man who nodded a lot and turned the brochure over in his hands as if it could impart the secret to becoming a ninja warrior.
“They told me that you are about to encounter a great deal of trouble.”
His gut tightened before he reminded himself she said things to get a reaction. “Oh, really? What kind of trouble? Taxes?”
“Joke all you like, beautiful boy.”
He was slightly taken aback at that description.
And amused. Nobody had called him a boy in years.
Hell, he’d left boyhood behind mentally long before he’d ever grown into a man.
That’s what surviving did to you. That’s what chronic stress and parentification did to a kid.
Made you a fiercely independent adult with trust issues.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m having trouble believing you know something about my life that I don’t.”
She smiled. “I know. It’s often that way.
This is the time of year when the veil is the thinnest, and it’s only getting thinner as we approach Samhain.
The spirits are watching, and they are never wrong.
You will face a very dark, very dangerous challenge.
If you fail, everything you love will be lost. If you succeed…
.” She shrugged. “Well, suffice to say you will have everything you thought you could not have.”
Anger began to swirl together like a tornado forming out of thin air. It was an overreaction, but he didn’t like the way her words hit that vulnerable place within. The words were vague, and yet they called up feelings and desires he had no wish to examine right now.
“It would be helpful if you had details. Who to avoid, what not to do, that kind of thing.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. That’s not how the spirit world works. I would ask the aliens, but they aren’t due to return for another month.”
The aliens. Right.
Ghost sighed. Why was he getting angry with this woman? She was good at this stuff. Damned good. But she didn’t know anything. She just made predictions that fed off his own fears and worries. She didn’t do it out of malice or a desire to extract money. She truly thought she was helping.
“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate the warning. I’ll do my best.”
“See that you do. Oh, and when you need her, the Huntress will be at your side. Trust in her.”
The Huntress?
Before he could ask what that meant, Colleen stiffened, her head coming up like she’d sensed danger. He followed her gaze to where her bestie, Reba, strolled along with Agent Ackerman. He was talking animatedly, and Reba was watching him with what appeared to be adoration.
“Trouble,” Colleen muttered. “I see trouble.” She swept away in a cloud of orange, trailing cigarette smoke, and Ghost shook his head.
Blaze had his arms folded over his chest, frowning. “What was that about trouble and huntresses?”
“You think I have a clue? She’s weird. Maybe I’m going to meet a lady who likes to deer hunt.
Fuck if I know. As for trouble, I’m guessing she isn’t happy about Agent Ackerman romancing her friend.
Probably worried he’ll sweep Reba off her feet and then Colleen will be over there in her shop alone, muttering to ghosts and communicating with aliens without anyone real to talk to. ”