Page 73 of Ghost

“And how did it go?”

“Not the way I thought it would,” she admitted. “We talked about how things were back when we first got together, and it was nice going down memory lane with him. We had some good times together.”

“You know, you’re gonna have to be a little more specific,” I pushed. “I’m gonna need to hear about these good times you guys had.”

“Oh, there’re so many.” A light blush crept across her face. “There was this one time when we’d gone out riding, and it started to rain...”

Before she could go any further, Jenna and Antonia returned with several plates balanced in their hands—each of them filled with potato salad, baked beans, and ribs. Jenna giggled as she told us, “I would’ve brought more, but I would’ve had to wrestle the guys for it.”

“This is plenty.”

We ate and talked for another hour or so, and then, everyone started to disperse. Sutton came over to the table, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that the long day had taken a toll on him. “You ready to go?”

“Whenever you are.”

“You think we can wrangle up Toby?”

“Go on out to the truck. I’ll get him.”

He nodded, then headed out to the parking lot. I said my goodbyes to the girls, then went to track down Toby. As I expected, he was in the back playing football with Garrison. It took some coercing, but I managed to get him out to the truck, and we headed home. As soon as we got to the house, we startedour nightly routines, and once Toby was asleep, I slipped down to Sutton’s room.

When I walked in, Sutton was already in bed and sound asleep. I didn’t want to wake him, so I headed back to my room and went to sleep. I have no idea how long I’d been out when I felt my covers being pulled back. I opened my eyes to find Sutton hovering over me.

"Sutton! What are you doing?"

Without saying a word, he slipped his arms under me and lifted me into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I didn’t fight him. Instead, I melted against him, resting my head on his broad shoulder. He carried me into his room, kicking the door shut before carrying me over to the bed. When he laid me down, I looked up and asked, “What is this about?”

“You didn’t come.”

I opened my mouth to explain why I’d stayed in my own room, but he cut me off. “I want you in my bed, Cricket. Not just tonight, but every night.”

I stared up at him with my heart hammering in my chest. His words settled over me, heavy and unshakable, and they hit me hard.

All I could do was whisper, “Okay.”

We were beyond the point of just seeing how things were going and taking it slow. This was a turning point in our relationship, and I had never felt more ready to move forward.

The next day, life went back to normal.

Sutton settled in to watch the game while Toby played in his room. I’d already finished my book, so I decided to do a little work around the house. I’d already done my usual cleaning, but I had a couple of loads of laundry to do. I went to Sutton’s bathroom to grab his hamper when I spotted his duffle bag on the floor. I remembered him taking it on his trip and figured his clothes were still inside. I didn’t think much of it. I just grabbedit, unzipped it, and started pulling things out—jeans, socks, and his t-shirt.

At first, I didn’t notice anything unusual. I just tossed everything into the hamper and went on my way. I carried it to the laundry and started tossing everything into the washer. I was about to pour in the detergent when something on his t-shirt caught my attention.

I reached in and pulled it out and gasped when I saw there was blood on it. And not just a little, either. There were splatters and smears like someone had really been hurt—but who?

My breath caught in my throat, and for a second, I just stood there staring at it, and then, I remembered his hands. I said I was going to let it go, but this was too much. I had to at least ask him about it, so I took the shirt and carried it into the living room.

Sutton was sitting in his recliner, watching the game—completely unaware that I was on the brink of losing it. I cleared my throat, holding the shirt up so he could see it. “What’s this?”

He looked up, and his eyes narrowed when they landed on the bloodstained fabric. His expression didn’t change, but I saw the way his jaw tightened. He didn’t say anything at first. He just sat there, staring at the shirt like he was weighing how much to tell me—so I gave him a push. “I know I’m supposed to be hunky-dory with all this and let it go, but this is a lot, Sutton.”

Finally, he let out a long breath and sighed, “It’s not my blood, Cricket.”

“Okay. Then, whose is it?”

My voice shook, and I hated that it did. But after everything Toby and I had been through, the last thing I needed was more violence in my life.

“I can’t answer that. All I can tell you is...I handle things when they need handling.” His movements were calm anddeliberate as he stood and started over to me. “That’s all you need to know.”

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