Page 26 of Dream Lake

“It can be restored,” Alex said. “All it needs is a workover with some steel wool and few coats of spray chrome.”

Zoë looked at the table speculatively. “I suppose it’s not worth the trouble, with one of the chairs missing.”

“The fourth chair is in a corner of the carport,” Alex said. “You can’t see it because my truck is parked there.”

Zoë brightened at the information. “Oh, good. That makes the set worth saving. Otherwise I thought we’d have to sixty-nine it.”

Alex looked at her blankly.

She stared back at him with innocent blue eyes.

“You mean eighty-six it,” Alex said, his voice carefully monotone.

“Yes, what did I—” Zoë broke off as she realized the slip she’d made. A tide of crimson color washed over her face. “I have to be going,” she said in a small voice. She grabbed her bag and scampered from the house.

The door closed with a slam.

The ghost was laughing so hard he was soundless.

Alex braced his hands on the table and lowered his head. He was so turned on he couldn’t stand straight. “I can’t take this,” he managed to say.

“You should ask her out,” the ghost eventually said, when he was able.

Alex shook his head.

“Why not?”

“The number of ways I could hurt a woman like that…” Alex paused with a faint smile. “Hell. I can’t count that high.”

***

After Zoë had told her cousin everything that had happened at the lakeside cottage, Justine wasn’t merely amused. She laughed until she nearly toppled off her chair.

“Oh my God,” Justine gasped, grabbing a paper towel to blot the tears from her eyes. The sight of Zoë’s indignant expression only seemed to make it worse. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m laughing with you, not at you.”

“If you were laughing with me,” Zoë said, “then I would be laughing, too. And I’m not. Because all I can think about is stabbing myself with the first thing I can grab from the nearest utensil drawer.”

“Don’t even try,” Justine said, still snorting. “With the luck you’ve had today, it would turn out to be a melon baller.”

Zoë lowered her forehead to the kitchen table. “He thinks I’m the biggest idiot in the world. And I wanted so badly for him to like me.”

“I’m sure he likes you.”

“No,” Zoë said mournfully, “he doesn’t.”

“Then there’s something wrong with him, because everyone else in the world does.” Justine paused. “Why do you want him to like you?”

Zoë lifted her head and leaned her chin on her hand. “What if I say it’s because he’s so good-looking?”

“God, that’s incredibly shallow. I’m so disappointed in you. Tell me more.”

Zoë smiled. “It’s not really about his looks. Although he is… dazzling.”

“Not to mention a carpenter,” Justine said. “I mean, all carpenters are sexy, even the ugly ones. But a good-looking carpenter… well, that’s pretty hard to resist.”

“At first I wasn’t all that tempted by him, but then he killed the spider. Which was a huge point in his favor.”

“Absolutely. I love men who kill bugs.”

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