Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty-Five
“So they didn’t come to blows?” Nick poured coffee into two mugs, but spared a glance over his shoulder to Cassie, sitting on the sofa in his apartment.
She shook her head. “By the time we left they were getting along. I think Sophie may even ask Theo to help her rewrite some of her tour.”
“Wow.” He splashed milk into her coffee before bringing both mugs over, setting them on the battered coffee table in front of the couch. “Miracles do happen.”
Another miracle was currently happening right now, here in his apartment. Nick had always thought of his place as just a place to crash, not big enough to be called a home. Hell, it was barely big enough to be two rooms. But with the sky outside growing dark, the lamp on the side table on, and a pretty girl on his couch, the whole scene looked pretty damn cozy.
He could absolutely get used to this.
The thought was less of a jolt to his system than he expected it to be. He filed it away for now and forced his mind back on topic. “And he just let you walk out of there with the file on your house?”
Cassie nodded, patting her trusty laptop bag at her feet. “I basically had to swear a blood oath not to lose or damage anything. Plus, I think I just signed up for the historical preservation committee. Is that really a thing?”
“Oh, it is. And you’re not kidding about the blood oath. Did he tell you about the mosquitoes out on Cemetery Island?”
She pulled a face. “He did. Guess I’m stocking up on bug spray.” She blew across the surface of her coffee before taking a sip, then sent him a sideways glance. “So when you asked if I liked kayaking and cemeteries, you were speaking from experience.”
Nick’s laugh was a short bark. He thought he remembered every detail of the ghost tour, that first evening spent with Cassie. But he’d forgotten about that. He’d acted nonchalant, because Cassie was new in town. She was definitely not on board with ghosts yet, and scaring her off was the last thing he’d wanted to do. “Yeah, I go out there with him as much as I can. It’s actually kind of pretty.” That was putting it mildly. Nick always felt a sense of peace when he went out to Cemetery Island. A sense of connection. Especially when he was weeding around the graves of his ancestors. Being there reinforced the idea that he belonged here. There was something about knowing you shared DNA with the bones beneath the ground.
Cassie nodded thoughtfully. “I saw pictures. Your family’s out there, huh?”
“The big headstone? Yeah, that’s my great-great-granddad. He died not long before the Great Storm, so he was one of the last burials out there. I think they rowed someone out there in 1898, after the storm, to bury them there, but after that they started a new cemetery on the mainland.” Nick took a long pull of his too-hot coffee, punishing himself for this ridiculous small talk. He had the girl he liked in his place, and he was talking about cemeteries, rowing corpses across the bay? Because cemetery talk got all the girls hot? What the hell was wrong with him?
But Cassie was long past scaring off now. She took the conversation in stride, like any other longtime resident of Boneyard Key. She took another sip of coffee before setting the mug down, curling her feet under her, clearly getting comfortable. That was fine with Nick; she could stay forever as far as he was concerned. “He’s got some great photos,” she said, her mind clearly back on Theo and his little museum. “Not just of the cemetery, but of downtown. The pier. The Starter Home. And my house.” She finished the list with a sigh. “There were even some pictures of Sarah and C.S. Hawkins. She was really pretty. He looked like a dick.”
Nick had seen photos of C.S. Hawkins here and there, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing what old Mrs. H looked like. There was something to that, of the husband being remembered as a great man while the wife was lost to history, that maybe deserved thinking about further, but Cassie was right there, snuggling into his side. He left his mug on the coffee table in front of them and slid his arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer. She laid her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. Nick almost let out a happy sigh of his own. This was nice.
Her hair smelled clean, like no-nonsense shampoo, and somehow that seemed exactly right for Cassie. She turned under his arm, tilting her face up to his, and it also seemed exactly right to lower his head, brushing his mouth against hers. The sound of her breath catching in her throat sent a thrill through his blood, and that was all it took for him to settle his mouth over hers, prolonging the kiss. Deepening it. Her hand was flat on his chest, warm through his T-shirt, and he wanted to cover her hand with his and press it closer. But his hands were busy, taking out the clip in her bun, letting her hair tumble down over her shoulders. Nick caught some of the long strands, twirling them between his fingers.
Cassie’s hand slid up his chest, curling around the back of his neck, and the light scratch of her nails sent a hard shiver to the base of his spine. It was too much; it wasn’t nearly enough. He tugged, she moved, and before long she was in his lap, her thighs straddling his, their bodies rocking gently through their clothes like a couple of teenagers in the back seat of a car.
He pulled at her hips, tugging her impossibly closer, then his hands drifted upward, settling in the dip of her waist, flirting with the hem of her T-shirt. Her shirt was soft. Her skin underneath was softer. She gasped as he slid exploratory fingers under her shirt, tracing her skin there.
“Is this okay?” Speaking was hard; speaking involved forming words with his mouth, and his mouth was much happier exploring the smooth skin of her neck. He found the spot where her neck met her shoulder and he bit at it softly. She sucked in a breath and rocked against him, her fingernails digging into the back of his neck.
“More than okay.” Her words vibrated against his mouth as he worked his way up her throat. “If you stop what you’re doing I may kill you.”
Like he had any intention of stopping. “Yes, ma’am.” While his mouth claimed hers again, his hands ventured higher until he reached the band of her bra. She whimpered as his fingertips found the undersides of her breasts, tracing them through the thin cotton. Her thighs tightened around him when he cupped her breasts in his hands, thumbs running across the hard peaks of her nipples through the fabric of her bra. Too much fabric. They were wearing too many clothes. He had his hands on Cassie, but he wanted Cassie’s hands on him. He wanted…
Through the almost-deafening sound of blood rushing through his temples on their way to parts south, Nick heard the unmistakable sound of leather creaking. The recliner by the window. Elmer’s chair.
No. He didn’t want that. That was the last thing he wanted.
Cassie stilled in his lap. “Did you hear something?” She was breathless, practically hanging from the back of his neck.
No, he wanted to say. He didn’t hear a goddamn thing. But she’d already stopped kissing him. Dammit.
The blood had stopped rushing anyway. He stilled his hands and sighed. “Looks like we’re not alone.”
Damn right, you’re not alone! Since he was home, the words appeared in his head and not on his phone. Nick wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He wanted to throw that goddamn leather recliner out the window.
“Oh, God. He’s here, isn’t he?” Cassie was still on Nick’s lap, but it was now more of a sit than a grind. “And he can…see us. Right? He can see us.”
Nick let his head fall forward to rest on Cassie’s shoulder while his hands settled on her waist. “I swear he wasn’t here when we started,” he said. “I’m not into kinky shit like that.”
“Me neither.” She still sounded breathless, but she’d stopped clutching the back of his neck. Now her touch was more comforting, sliding up into his hair, rubbing his scalp in soothing motions. Nick didn’t want soothing. He didn’t want to be comforted. But his body calmed, almost against his will, and he finally took a long breath that only shuddered a little. He raised his head, finding Cassie’s lips with his own, but his kiss was now to bank the fire between them instead of stoke it.
“Give me a minute,” he said through a soft laugh. “And I’ll walk you home.”
Awww. Don’t stop on my account.
Nick gritted his teeth. “We are absolutely stopping on your account.”
“Oh my god!” Cassie turned wide eyes to the leather recliner. But her laugh gave her away; she was more amused than shocked. “Elmer, you pervert!” she chided.
A laugh burst from Nick’s chest. God, this woman was perfect.
···
“So does that happen a lot?”
“Say again?” Nick leaned across the high-top table they currently shared in the back corner of The Haunt. After their spiritual douse of cold water, they fled Nick’s apartment, electing to satisfy a different kind of hunger instead. Unfortunately, their sense of terrible timing continued; there was a Jimmy Buffett cover band playing tonight, and the place was packed. But Nick had gone to high school with the barback, and he’d managed to score them this table near the bathrooms. Probably because it was tiny and nobody else wanted it. But it worked for them.
Cassie finished chewing her bite of cheeseburger. “Does it happen a lot?” She leaned in. “Getting cockblocked by a ghost?” She practically yelled the words into his ear so he could hear her over the steel drums and guitar coming from the other side of the bar.
Nick choked on his swig of beer and concentrated hard on swallowing it instead of spewing it across the bar. “No,” he finally said through a cough. “That does not happen often. Ever, actually.”
“Never?” She raised her eyebrows. “Haven’t you lived with Elmer for a while now?”
His cheeks heated as he nodded. “I’m…uh…not in the habit of bringing girls home.” He wasn’t lying; when he hooked up with a tourist he always went back to her place. Hotel rooms and vacation rentals were a lot sexier than “haunted studio apartment over the café I own” any day. “I didn’t know he was going to show up, I swear.” He frowned down at the remnants of his fries. “I don’t know why I thought he’d have a little sense of propriety. Why start now?”
“Aww, he was happy for you!” Cassie leaned across the table and gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder.
“You’re really not upset?” It almost seemed like too much to wish for.
Cassie shook her head, popping the last bite of her burger into her mouth. “I mean, okay, it’s a little weird. But he’s cool with me, right?”
Nick considered that. Elmer hadn’t said one way or the other, but Nick had a feeling he’d be hearing about it if Elmer didn’t approve. “Pretty sure he is.”
“Well, then.” She grinned. “It’s like getting Dad’s approval. Or maybe your weird uncle. What’s not to like about that?”
She had a point.
Nick snagged an extra longneck on the way out—open container laws were loosey-goosey around here, and besides, the bartender knew Nick wasn’t going to drink it. They deposited the beer at its usual spot on one of the picnic tables, and if Nick backed Cassie up against one of those tables, hoisting her up to finish the thorough kiss he had started at his place, well, the Beach Bum didn’t say a word about it.
They took the beach route back to her place, Nick’s arm slung over her shoulders, Cassie snuggled into his side. The sounds of the steel drums grew fainter and fainter as they left that side of the beach, and the gentle sounds of the waves took over. An ocean-scented breeze kicked up, teasing long strands of Cassie’s hair out of its bun to snag themselves in Nick’s beard. He smoothed her errant hair behind her ear, planting a kiss on her temple as he did so.
Being with Cassie felt so right, so normal, that it was easy for Nick to ignore the static as they approached her house. It was nothing but a faint buzzing as they paused outside her picket fence.
Cassie turned to him, her back to the gate. “Are you sure you can’t come inside?” She twined her arms around his neck, fitting her body close to his, and holy hell Nick was ready to agree to anything. Everything.
“I don’t know.” He dipped his head down, stealing first a quick kiss, then a second longer kiss. “Do you think Mrs. H can put up with me for a few minutes?”
Cassie raised one arched eyebrow. “Are you saying it’s only gonna take a few minutes?”
A growl emanated from Nick’s chest, a sound he didn’t even know he could make. “Absolutely not.” His hands were on her hips now, pulling her flush against him. He could barely hear the buzzing at all now over his mind roaring at the thought of having much, much more than a few minutes alone with Cassie.
He slanted his mouth over hers, drinking her in like she was water on a hot day. Cassie fisted one hand in the front of his T-shirt, pulling, while she fumbled behind her for the gate latch. It probably would have been easier if they’d stopped kissing, but Nick wasn’t about to let that happen and apparently neither was Cassie.
Finally the gate gave way, the two of them stumbling through it and up her front walkway, kissing and pulling, clutching and sighing. If they didn’t get into the house soon, there was going to be an extremely public display of affection going on, and Nick wasn’t sure if Cassie was that kind of girl. He definitely wasn’t that kind of guy.
Cassie stumbled as she hit the front step, and Nick broke the kiss long enough to catch her under the elbows.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” Cassie panted as though she’d been running, her hands still clutching the front of his shirt. She looked up at him, her eyes glassy and her lips kiss-swollen. “You?”
He knew what she was asking. And truth be told he wasn’t great; the static was back, threatening to drown out everything. But he focused on the woman in front of him. She was important. She was worth a little dizziness.
So he smiled as best he could. “Never better.” She reached for him and he went gladly, making their way up the steps and to her front door. Nick pressed her against the solid wood, claiming her mouth, her neck.
Yes, this was what he wanted.
What he was meant for.
What she was meant for.
That was what women were for. To possess. To own.
And Cassie was his.
She belonged to him .
The thoughts rang through his head, getting more and more wrong, to the rhythm of the buzzing that got louder and louder and just.
Wouldn’t.
Stop.
It took every bit of strength he had, but Nick wrenched his mouth from Cassie’s. He dropped his hands from her body, stepping back one step, then another. The buzzing howled in an angry crescendo, but he ignored it.
“I can’t,” he gasped. He grabbed blindly for the banister, holding on to it for dear life as he took one step down, then another.
Cassie sagged against the front door, letting it hold her up. “What is it?” She sounded confused, taken aback, and not a little bit horny. “Is it…” She followed him down the steps. The farther he went, the quieter the static became until he was on the sidewalk again, the garden gate firmly shut between them.
“Well.” His voice was shaky in his own ears. “Here we are again.”
Cassie’s sigh seemed to come from the bottom of her toes. “This is bullshit ,” she said. She looked over her shoulder, directing her fury toward the house. “You hear me, Mrs. H? This has got to stop!”
“I don’t understand.” He clutched the pickets of the garden gate, his nails digging into the wood in frustration. “What the fuck does she have against me? I haven’t done anything to her.”
“I think I know,” she said darkly. “But I’m not sure…I need to figure out how to make it right. Give me a little time, okay?” Her hand on his cheek felt cool, calming. Everything he didn’t want to be with her.
Now that Nick was away from the house, the buzzing in his head faded and he felt exhausted. Wrung out, like he’d just run a long distance. “Okay.” The word was a long sigh. It wasn’t okay. Not even a little bit. But then he couldn’t help but find the humor in it. “I guess I’m not the only one being cockblocked by a ghost.”
Cassie huffed out a laugh. “Fantastic. We both live alone, you know. You wouldn’t think it would be this hard to be…uh…alone together.”
“In a town full of ghosts? I’m not surprised, to be honest.”
“Great,” she grumbled. But she reached for his hand, threading their fingers together, and he held on tight. “I don’t suppose there’s an unhaunted seedy motel around here or anything?”
“Well, there’s the Eternal Rest, out by the highway. It’s not too bad, actually, and…oh. You said unhaunted?” Nick shook his head. “Never mind.”
“Terrific.”
Nick tugged at her hand, stepping closer to the closed gate while Cassie did the same on the other side. The gate was short enough that it only separated them from the chest down. Which still sucked, but Nick could work with it for the moment. He was a patient man, and Cassie had a plan. Or she was working on a plan. Something.
He reached over the fence, cupping her cheek with one hand. “Figure things out with Mrs. H soon,” he said. “Because I want you, Cassie Rutherford. And I want to find a way to make this work.”
Cassie’s dark eyes shone in the porch light as she looked up at him. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and Nick thought that was a great idea. He leaned forward and captured her mouth with his, pouring an entire night’s worth of sexual frustration into that good-night kiss.
“We’ll make this work,” she said against his mouth when he finally let up. “I promise.”
Nick was going to hold her to that. As he walked home alone (again), his mind felt surprisingly clear, and he cast his thoughts back to Cassie’s front porch. The smell of her skin, the feel of her hair. But those weird, intrusive thoughts ruined the memory of kissing her on the front porch. Where had they come from? It reminded Nick of those college days when he’d made poor life choices and gotten blackout drunk at one party or another. The next day would be filled with snatches of memory, and mild horror at things he’d apparently done. I said what? I threw whose phone into the lake? It was like those things had happened to someone else, someone who coincidentally wore his face.
But those thoughts had been in his own head. They’d been his thoughts . Right?
The Beach Bum saw Nick safely to The Haunt, where the steel drum band was still going strong. But he didn’t stop for a nightcap. He wasn’t in the mood for company. He headed toward Hallowed Grounds, then up the back stairs to his apartment. Alone. Again.
But this was Boneyard Key, after all. “Alone” was a relative term.