Donna Fletcher Short Story Collection (21 page)

“You said there were old trunks and boxes in
the attic. Were they left by the previous owner?”

She nodded. “A lot was left by the previous
owner. My grandmother had much of the furniture refinished and the
various old steamer trunks in the attic she simply left stored
there.”

“Then that’s where we’ll start our
investigation tomorrow... the attic.”

It had been years since she had ventured up
there, her youthful imaginings having faded with the years until
completely forgotten. She found the attic now nothing more than a
chore. Grams had asked her only a few months ago to help her sort
through the collected mess and discard what wasn’t necessary.

Could her Gram have had something else in
mind? Was there something there she had wanted her to find?

It’s getting late,” he said. “We better get
some sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

She conceded with a nod, though really didn’t
want to go to bed, at least not alone.

She led the way to the second floor where her
grandmother’s suite was located along with two other bedrooms.
Mitch carried a small suitcase having informed her he would
probably need to stay a few days and that had been fine with her.
He could stay as long as he wanted.

She intended to show him to the bedroom next
to the suite. That was until she spotted her door slowly opening
and she didn’t recall closing it.

Mitch grabbed hold of her hand and marched
straight for the room. The door slammed in his face before he could
enter.

“Whoever it is either doesn’t want me in
there or wants my attention.” He shoved open the door.

She entered along with him, not letting go of
his hand. The room was empty. No ghostly apparitions haunted it or
cold spots felt. It was a lovely room decorated in a long bygone,
opulent era. It had fit her grandmother perfectly, though not her,
but she didn’t have the heart to change it.

He released her hand and explored the room
and she wondered how she could get him to sleep with her...
actually sleep with her.

The warm soft whispered breath on her neck
was enough to have her running to him, grabbing hold of his hand
and pleading, “Please sleep with me tonight.”

He smiled and ran a gentle finger down along
her cheek. “I never turn down a chance to sleep with a beautiful
woman.”

His innocent touch teased her senses and she
was surprised by the instant response or perhaps she had thought
her hormones dormant for so long, that they had just withered and
died. She couldn’t honestly recall when last it had been that a
man’s touch had excited her. Of course it didn’t help getting
aroused just after she had asked him to sleep with her... just
sleep nothing more.

She figured she better clarify. “I didn’t
mean—”

“I know what you meant,” he said. “You’re
hoping my presence will discourage the ghost from visiting
you.”

“It was a thought.”

“A good one,” he said. “Let’s see if it
works.”

She went into the bathroom to change into her
most comfy pajamas, long, pink and purple polka dotted knit bottoms
that rested on her hips. A plain pink T that didn’t quite cover her
midriff matched, but she didn’t feel comfortable wearing it to bed
with Mitch beside her so she threw on a large white T the hem
almost reaching to her knees.

“Sexy,” he said with an amusing grin when she
walked out of the bathroom.

He certainly filled that word out quite
nicely. He was stretched out on the bed wearing long black knit
bottoms and no top. He had a broad, muscled chest that would make
women salivate and be the envy of most men. And damn if she didn’t
want to touch it.

She wondered which was worse, being aroused
by a ghost or sleeping beside a sexy man and not taking advantage
of it.

She got into bed and reached up to turn off
the light when it shut off by itself. Without hesitation she moved
closer to Mitch. Not that their bodies touched, but close enough so
that she could feel him there beside her.

When the bedroom door slammed forcefully shut
she nearly crawled on top of him.

“It’s never closed like that before,” she
whispered in his face and realized that her breasts were plastered
to his chest and her leg was wrapped tightly around his. She
reluctantly eased herself off him, and he didn’t stop her. And
foolishly enough, it disappointed her.

“At least we know he’s not happy with my
presence.”

“Have you ever known a ghost to do harm?”

He turned on his side to face her and she
noticed that he kept both hands tucked beneath his pillow. Didn’t
he trust himself not to touch her? A crazy thought, she had no
business thinking, though she did recall reading in one of his
books that he wasn’t in a relationship. He had claimed his work
made it difficult to find a woman who didn’t mind that ghosts
visited him at odd hours of the day and night.

“I’ve never come across one,” he said. “It’s
the fear that ghosts instill that causes the biggest problems,
though if your grandmother had seen the ghost he certainly hadn’t
frightened her.”

Amanda smiled. “Gram once told me that after
being on Broadway for years there wasn’t anything that could
frighten her.”

“I would have liked to have met her,” he
said, “though perhaps I still will.”

The thought of seeing Gram as a ghost made
her want to move closer to Mitch, though not for protection, for
comfort. He struck her as a man who wouldn’t mind consoling, and
she had never been with a man who offered to console without
wanting something in return. Somehow she thought Mitch would offer
it without strings attached.

They exchanged a few more words before
drifting off to sleep.

Amanda didn’t want to leave the dream and it
had to be dream, for she never felt such an all-consuming passion.
Sex had never swept her away to the point where nothing else
mattered, where nothing else existed and you surrendered
everything, every bit of yourself to his touch, to his kisses and
to a climax that built to such a fever pitch that you screamed out
his name over and over until...

Amanda woke breathless and naked with Mitch
rising over her ready to...

She let out a yell and he jumped off her with
a shake of his head. She did the same... shook her head, trying to
get rid of the fuzziness.

Mitch paced the floor beside the bed, running
his fingers repeatedly through his hair.

She quickly reached for her clothes and
caught up his bottoms along with hers. She tossed them to him
needing him to cover up, for the more she looked at him naked the
more she wanted him.

“Hurry and dress,” he said as he did the same
all the while avoiding looking at her.

If the lights weren’t on the task would have
been easier, their arousals less evident, though the scent of sex
was heavy in the air.

When had the lights gone on and who had
turned them on? She shook her head again. She wasn’t thinking
straight. She should be demanding to know why he had touched her
but then she had invited him into her bed. But hadn’t he asked her
to trust him and hadn’t she done just that?

She stared at him not sure what to say.

His hands went up to defend himself. “I
thought it was a dream.”

“I thought the same.”

“Your scream jarred me awake.”

What had woken her? A clap of thunder sounded
and she realized then what had snapped her out of the dream...
thunder.

She shivered and he stepped forward as if
ready to comfort her then pulled back. She was disappointed. She
would have liked his arms around her at that moment, though it
probably wasn’t a good idea. She still throbbed with passion and
from the size of him he hadn’t exactly lost his desire.

“I should sleep in another room.”

“No,” she said not wanting him to leave
though why she wasn’t sure. Was it her fear of the ghost or her
fear that she wouldn’t experience his touch again?

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. I
felt your touch and...” He shook his head.

“I touched you first?”

“In my dream you did, and I couldn’t help but
respond.”

He couldn’t help it. Didn’t that mean he was
attracted to her? She wanted to smile but she didn’t, though her
stomach fluttered.

“Unless...” He stared off into space for a
moment. “I’ve never experienced it before, though I’ve read about
ghostly possession.”

Was he suggesting what she thought? “You
can’t mean that...”

“It would explain why we both woke
shocked.”

She didn’t want to think that it wasn’t him
that had been touching her so intimately, or whose kisses had
spiked her passion like never before. She didn’t want to believe
that it was a ghost who had aroused her like no other man had ever
done, for how could she ever find a man who could compete with... a
ghost?

~~~

They sat in relative silence the next morning
sharing breakfast, if you can call a slice of toast breakfast. It
seemed that neither of them had an appetite. The weather didn’t
help any, torrential rain falling with a rumble of thunder now and
again.

Neither of them made mention of last night’s
incident and that was fine with her, though it certainly had
lingered on her mind. When she had finally fallen asleep it had
been restless and she had woken alone in bed.

“Are you ready to start investigating?” he
asked.

She stood. “Do I look ready?”

He smiled. “Like I said last night,
sexy.”

She grinned at his teasing, since gray yoga
pants, an oversized knit red top and her long black hair pulled
back in a ponytail didn’t exactly fit sexy. Why then did she detect
a glint of interest in his eyes? While she hadn’t dated recently
she still could tell when a man was interested and Mitch Connell
was definitely interested.

They made their way to the attic. It was a
bit creepy like most attics. After all it was similar to a
graveyard; pictures, objects and definitely memories were brought
here and forgotten.

“Where shall we start?” she asked.

“Let me have a look around and see if
anything speaks to me.”

“Speaks to you?”

He nodded as he began exploring. “Ghosts that
linger usually are attached to certain things. It could be as
simple as a picture that gives me a clue to the identity of the
ghost and once I make the connection the ghost usually
appears.”

“But ghosts do appear without you doing
anything.”

He turned and smiled. “You read my book.”

She liked his smile, it made her smile. “All
four of them and enjoyed each one.”

“Then you know that some ghosts can be
stubborn. The most stubborn ones are the ones with issues to settle
and they can be more of a challenge.”

“My ghost is a challenge.”

“Not for long.”

As soon as his hand touched an old steamer
trunk, he said, “Let’s start here.”

Amanda joined him patiently waiting while he
cleared some space around the trunk and taking the time to admire
his firm, round backside that looked so good in black jeans. Though
recalling last night, she preferred seeing it naked.

She cringed at her thought. This wasn’t the
time or place, but then what was a good time or place to admire a
man’s backside? And she should be glad that she finally found one
that she did admire whether the time proved right or not.

Her logical reasoning allowed her to keep
watching him without guilt; though she did pay a price... she got
aroused. Damn if it didn’t please and annoy her all at once. It
continued to prove that her dormant hormones had finally been
roused.

“Ready?”

She had to grin; she definitely was ready.
She nodded.

He eased the trunk open and the attic flooded
with the musty scent that develops when something has been shut
away for years. There were men’s clothes and an Army uniform from
World War II and wrapped in a man’s white silk scarf that yellowed
with the years were old black and white pictures.

“Do you think the things in this trunk belong
to our ghost?” Amanda asked.

“I think something in here connects with
him,” he said and sat in front of the trunk and then patted the
spot beside him for her to join him.

She didn’t hesitate. She plopped down, though
much closer to him than she had intended, or had she? She had to
stop thinking about him sexually. He was here to help her; perhaps
afterward... she felt a brush of hot breath along the back of her
neck.

Her hand clamped down on his arm and she
whispered, “He’s here.”

The breath grew heavier and she wondered if
his touch would follow. She scooted closer to Mitch and his arm
went around her tucking her against him.

“How can we help you?” he asked calmly.

She listened, as if expecting to hear a reply
but was met with only silence.

The hot breath on her neck suddenly vanished
and she turned to Mitch and whispered, “He’s gone.”

She hadn’t realized how temptingly close
their lips were or how much closer she wanted them to be and though
she didn’t want to, she turned to move away when his hand cupped
the back of her head and swiftly brought her lips to meet his.

He kissed her like a man who knew what he was
doing. He didn’t hesitate or hold back. He kissed her hard and
decisively and sent a tingle rushing through her body that left her
shuddering.

She didn’t know how or when it had happened
but she found herself on her back with Mitch nearly covering her,
and she didn’t care. His kisses were too intoxicating to give a
damn about anything. She wanted only to lose herself in the moment
and make memories.

His hands began to explore her body touching
places she had never paid mind to but that he made come alive. Who
would have thought that the stroke and squeeze of her shoulder
could send her hormones into frenzy?