Chapter 3 #2
He holds out his hand. He’s a ghost—an undeniably attractive ghost, I’ve gotta admit—and, still stunned by the turn of events, I humor him. I take his hand, fully expecting my fingers to pass through his the same way the banana peel did as I pretend to shake.
Only that’s not what happens.
Our hands connect. A jolt runs through me, like when I was a rascally kit and I thought it was a good idea to play with electrical sockets. I wouldn’t be surprised if my hair stood on end, and I’m just glad I still have it thrown up in a bun.
It’s so weird. He doesn’t smell like anything. He doesn’t have any warmth, either. But I… I can sense him. Not only that, but—
“Looks like I can touch you, too.”
“Because you found me in the dumpster,” he guesses. “Maybe that’s why you two are the only ones who can also see me.”
That would make sense. After all, it was Gus and me who stumbled upon the…
corpse? Is that the right word when he’s eerily still yet a little bit warm, and I’m exchanging pleasantries with a paler, see-through version of him?
Between me and the rat, we probably reached Ash at the same time, so I get that.
In my experience, the supernatural world doesn’t have rules. It has happenstances. For all I know, this is something that’s common in other supe communities, and it’s just our turn to find out that opossums can play dead and stay dead.
While I try to make some sense of this, and Gus cozies up to the ghost, Ash’s gaze returns to the dumpster. Genuine discomfort twists his handsome features. “I should probably clarify that I don’t normally spend much time inside of dumpsters.”
My back goes ramrod straight. I narrow my eyes at him. “What’s wrong with dumpsters?”
He doesn’t know me. Not really. No way in hell he has any clue I’m the raccoon girl from that day outside of Onancock High, and even though it’s mid-afternoon, this alley is always crawling with shadows.
Maybe he didn’t pick up on the dark circles and my yellow eyes and the caricature of a raccoon emblazoned on my tits with the words, “BECOME UNGOVERNABLE” underneath it…
maybe he doesn’t know why what he said is enough to set me off, but he hears enough of an obvious threat in my snappish voice to hurriedly backpedal.
“Nothing! I just meant—”
My hands go to my hips. “I found a waffle maker in one last week. Never used, still in the box.”
“I’m glad—”
“It makes waffles in the shape of cats.”
Something helplessly amused dances across his face despite the suddenly strained situation. “If I wasn’t an opossum, I would love to be a cat.”
I remember what I said to Gus earlier. “Opossums are sometimes called trash cats. So maybe don’t knock dumpsters, yeah?”
Ash nods. “Yeah.”
Then, as though something about the way I went at him is trying to shake a memory loose, he looks me over and frowns again. “I’m sorry. But have we met before?”
Oh, shit.
He lifts a ghostly finger. “This might sound strange, but have you ever been to Onancock, Virginia?”
I fold my arms tightly across my chest, immediately defensive. “Maybe.”
Ash smiles. Despite being a ghost, sudden recognition lights up his entire face, transforming him from gorgeous into something so devastatingly beautiful, it’s almost enough to knock all of my breath from my lungs.
“I knew it! It was you,” he says, sounding genuinely delighted. “You were the raccoon girl who came popping out of the trash that day.”
“You remember that?”
I know I’ve never forgotten, and now that I know why…
“Trust me,” he says, “that raccoon girl made quite an impression on me.”
Inside my chest, my raccoon preens. Outside, the prickly human side arches an eyebrow. “You know, raccoon girl’s got a name.” I nod at him. “I’m Roxy. Roxy Kane.”
His grin only deepens. “I asked Honey, but she told me that you’d eat me alive. I see now that she was right, but I always thought you were cute.”
What?
“It was a shame I never got the chance to ask you myself. You scampered away before I could talk to you.”
“Raccoons do not scamper,” I retort immediately.
“You absolutely scampered.”
“We prowl.”
“You scampered, Roxy.”
“Be nice or I’ll throw another banana peel through you.”
That earns me a low laugh, something I would’ve thought impossible from a confused ghost. It’s nice to know he can still laugh—and, unless I’m imagining it, he can flirt—but that doesn’t change the fact that this male is my mate and he just might be dead.
I know I should bring the conversation back around to that only I can’t. Not yet, at least. Not when I can’t ignore the way my heart twisted to hear him so casually mention Honey.
“You’re not from Moonburrow. I know that. And I know you’re not from Onancock, either. So what were you doing here before you… you know.”
Ash sobers slightly. “I was looking for Honey.”
Damn it. I was afraid of that.
“She’s on her honeymoon.”
“Honeymoon?”
“With Sheriff Max,” I add. “The two of them are very mated. Honey and her wolf… they did the Alpha Ceremony, have the marks… whole thing.”
“Oh. I know that. I was actually supposed to have dinner with her and her mate once I made it to Moonburrow, only it took longer to settle things before I could move here. That’s why I’m really here.
I drove into town with my car packed. I’m supposed to be taking over the apartment over the bakery while she runs Grandma Jean’s business. ”
Grandma Jean? “You know Honey’s grandmother?”