Page 63 of Haunted Ever After

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?

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