Chapter 9 #2
Connor raises a brow at me, but he’s smirking. “We can tell you more about the Collective—that’s the name of the organization we work for, by the way—over the next couple days, but the only part that’s really relevant to you is that you need a gatekeeper and the Collective can give you one.”
“And on the subject of gatekeeping,” Gabe says, picking up smoothly before any of us can say anything, “tomorrow morning I’ll refresh the temporary guard.
Then I’ll spend the day assessing the gateway more fully, checking out the estate, talking to you all.
That will help me determine what’s really needed here.
Whether it’s me who stays or someone else, we’re going to need to work out accommodation—I’m sorry, the town’s too far away, so it’ll have to be here somewhere. ”
“Does it have to be in the house?” Please say no, please say no.
He shakes his head. “No. Anywhere on the estate should be okay, but I’ll check that tomorrow.”
I smile and nod, because what else can I do? I have an obligation to protect everyone here. I’ll do whatever that takes. Fuck knows what I’m going to tell the owners, though.
“While Gabe’s doing his thing, I’ll show Skye and Josh some tips and tricks,” Connor adds.
“I also need to track the soul-eater back to the gateway it came through and find out if Emma’s friends ever summoned a demon of their own.
So even if Gabe decides not to stay, I’ll be here to keep an eye on things until something more permanent can be arranged. ”
Even as annoying as he is, that’s a relief.
He winks at me, and once more I feel that tiny tickle of… something. Damn him.
“What kind of tips and tricks?” Daniel asks, the protectiveness strong in his voice.
Connor shrugs. “At the very least, Skye needs to learn how to shield to keep spirits out. And I can teach Josh how to deal with those same spirits.” He looks across the table at Josh. “You’ve only got experience with ghosts, right? And the soul-eater and body-hopper.”
“If you can call what happened with the body-hopper experience. I couldn’t do anything.”
Ewan leans down to kiss Josh’s pout.
“I can help you change that,” Connor promises, “but you gotta stop with the cutesy stuff. Seriously, I’m gonna lose my dinner.”
Josh laughs and tips his head up for another kiss, and Connor makes a gagging sound.
“Okay,” I say, trying not to feel happy and charmed like this is my family instead of a batshit insane workplace drama. “Let’s call it a night. Skye, you’re off tomorrow, so you and Connor can work on that shield thingy.” And then maybe Skye will be comfortable going home, freeing up a bed.
Of course, I could just go home myself. But my inner control freak can’t stand the idea of leaving the estate while so much crap is going on.
“I’m going to check on the guests,” Josh says as we all get up and start pushing in chairs and gathering mugs. “The movie should be done, but nobody’s buzzed me.”
“I’ll do it,” I volunteer, grasping at any straw that will keep me out of bed a while longer. The bed I have to share with Connor.
“No, you won’t,” Josh insists. “You’re off-shift. Go upstairs and relax, or I’ll ask my hot, muscular boyfriend to make you.”
There’s a round of jeers and laughter, and Ewan blushes.
“If your hot, muscular boyfriend didn’t work for me, I’d consider that incentive,” I tease dryly. “But fine.” Dammit.
Gabe and Connor are talking quietly, so I seize the chance to slip out and head upstairs. My stuff is in the Garden Suite, so I stop there first to get it. The ghosts pop into view when I walk in.
“Meeting done?” Joe asks, frowning.
“Yes. There isn’t much to talk about until Gabe’s had the chance to look around and get to know us.”
Norval snorts. “There won’t be much to talk about even then. Either Gabe stays or he doesn’t. You ordinary people just need to step aside and let the Collective take care of things.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the TV the whole time he’s speaking.
“That’s very reassuring. Thank you.” There are times I really hate ghosts.
I grab my bag and turn toward the door.
“Wait, you’re not staying in here?” Maisie asks. “I thought we were going to have company!” She pouts.
“Gabe asked to be the one to stay in here instead,” I explain. “I expect you all to be on your best behavior. We want him to like it here. Don’t proposition him, Maisie.”
That gets Norval’s attention. “Proposition him?” He looks from me to Maisie then back again. “Young man, you do know that Maisie is a ghost, don’t you?”
“I certainly do.”
“I’m looking for a man to take care of me,” Maisie explains. “Sometimes they need a bit of encouragement. And so many of them are gay.”
Norval stares at her for a long moment before howling with laughter. “Please tell me you tried to ‘encourage’ my nephew.”
She sighs. “He was very polite. And he has such nice legs. A lot of men have chicken legs, but Connor’s are lovely.”
Having shared a room with him for the past two nights, I can attest to the truth of this. Connor’s not shy about parading around in his boxers. He has a world-class ass.
“You might have more luck with Gabe. He’s pot.”
“No,” I squawk. “No luck. Maisie, you absolutely cannot proposition Gabe.” Then the rest of what Norval said sinks in. “He’s what?”
“Pot,” Norval repeats importantly. “It means he’s attracted to people, not their genders.”
I cough to cover my laugh.
“Ohhhhhh,” Hattie says. “You mean pan.”
“I’m sure it’s pot.”
“No, it’s pan. Short for pansexual.”
Norval frowns. “Are you sure?”
“We should watch Schitt’s Creek again,” Johnny suggests.
I leave while they’re debating it and hope Maisie doesn’t cause any problems. I’m sure Gabe will kick them all out when he’s ready to sleep—and he has a lot more experience with ghosts than me, what with being able to see them all the time.
In the Blue Suite, I waste no time grabbing my pj’s and using the bathroom. I want to be under the covers with the lights off before Connor gets back. Maybe if he thinks I’m asleep, this whole thing will be less awkward.
Who am I kidding?
My plan, winner that it is, fails before it begins, because when I come out of the bathroom, Connor’s already in the room.
And already stripped down to his boxers, bending over the desk while he plugs his phone in to charge.
He’s either been blessed by nature or he works out a lot, because his body is ridiculous.
Not big like Ewan’s, but ripped nonetheless.
Why the hell does someone who relies on psychic ability look like that?
“You okay?” he asks over his shoulder. His smirk says that he’s well aware that I’m ogling him.
“Fine. Sorry, I zoned out. I’m… tired.” That’s the truth, at least, and it sounds better than “I was wondering if I could bounce a quarter off your ass.”
“You should get into bed, get some rest,” he suggests, and for once he doesn’t sound mocking. I dredge up a smile.
“Yeah. Uh… do you… I mean, is there a side you prefer, or…?” This is so weird. I’ve never shared a bed with someone I barely know. To sleep, that is.
“I’ll sleep on the side closest to the door, if that’s okay. That way, if Gabe needs help during the night, I can get out of here faster.”
My heart seizes. “Why would he need help? Should I—”
“It’s not likely,” Connor soothes. “Just habit. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
The sound that escapes me as I go to the side of the bed near the window is a combination of a snort and a huff. “I’m kind of tense right now, so it doesn’t take much.”
He leans against the desk and studies me as I get under the covers.
“What?” I ask finally.
His eyes are very intense and blue as he shrugs. “I’m just wondering if you’d permanently maim me if I offered to help you ease that tension.”
I freeze. He can’t mean… can he?
No. That’s ridiculous. Sure, there’s been some flirting, plus all the hot looks, and Norval made those jokes about him liking redheads, but…
I clear my throat. “Excuse me?” It comes out a lot breathier than I expected.
That smirk I hate so much is back on his face as he straightens and saunters toward the bed. “You know, pop the cork. Give you a chance to relax.”
I swallow hard. That definitely sounds like he means…
“A hand job,” he clarifies. “You just lie back and let me…” He makes a lewd gesture.
Oh my god. “Why would you offer?” I croak, even as my dick stirs. I bend my knees slightly to tent the duvet so he can’t see, but from the way his smirk widens, he knows.
“Consider it an olive branch.” He climbs onto the end of the bed and crawls up his side. “We got off on the wrong foot—mostly my fault—and I want to change that. This is an easy way for me to help you out and smooth things over between us.”
I blink at him a few times, trying to get my brain to process that. The last six days have stretched my limits beyond what I would have thought possible, and this is just…
Fuck it. A good orgasm might be exactly what I need right now. And it’s not like I’ve never had casual sex before. I know Connor better than some of my previous hookups.
Ignoring my common sense and conscience, which are both screaming at me right now, I toss back the duvet.
“Sure. Why not?”
I’ve shocked him—and myself, oh my god, what am I doing?—but he grins and rolls off the bed.
“Changed your mind?” I try to sound nonchalant when every fiber of my being wants to grab the duvet and hide under it for all eternity. Was he joking?
“Nope,” he tosses over his shoulder as he goes into the bathroom. “Just getting some lube. This is going to be the best handy you’ve ever had.”