Donna Fletcher Short Story Collection (22 page)

Her hands rushed beneath his gray sweatshirt
eager to touch his naked chest and did his hard muscles feel ever
so good. They rolled around on the dusty attic floor, mopping up
cobwebs along the way but not caring so lost in the need for each
other, until Mitch abruptly stopped.

“Did you hear that?” he asked with a
whisper.

She went to ask what when he shook his
head.

She listened but couldn’t hear anything and
then she heard it... a faint chuckle.

They both lay perfectly still, though it
wasn’t easy with his hard arousal digging into her side. She would
have much preferred it digging in where it belonged...

Belonged?
Where had that thought come
from?

When the chuckle wasn’t heard again Mitch
jumped up and began pacing in front of the trunk just as he had
last night in her bedroom.

“Something’s not right,” he said with
annoyance. “I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“Am I that repulsive?” she asked hurt by what
sounded like an accusation.

He stopped pacing and shook his head. “No,
you’re beautiful, but I never allow anything to interfere with
business.”

“You’re attracted to me?’

“I’m not sure.”

Again his words hurt and so she was blunt.
“Then why kiss me, as if you never want to stop or touch me like
you want to make love?”

“Because the need to do both came after you
felt the presence of the ghost and so it makes me wonder if...”

“It was the ghost who wanted me and not
you.”

“Exactly.”

“Does that mean I want the ghost and not
you?” she asked the very idea upsetting her.

He looked upset himself and it gave her small
comfort to think that the idea might have actually disappointed
him.

He went straight for the photos and scooped
them up where they laid scattered on the floor. “We need to find
out who this ghost is and get him to move on.”

She wanted to ask what happens afterward, but
she didn’t think she was ready to hear the answer. This growing
attraction, this lusty need for each other wasn’t something she
wanted to let go of just yet or maybe never if she were honest with
herself.

Her previous relationships hadn’t come
anywhere near to being as passionate and exciting as to what little
she had shared with Mitch so far. And if this was just the
beginning she wouldn’t mind finding out what would happen if they
spent more time together... without the interference of the
ghost.

~~~

“This man looked to have had an exciting
life,” Mitch said as they sat at the kitchen table looking over the
photos.

Amanda had to agree with him. There was one
man that appeared in almost all the pictures. He was a good looking
man and she couldn’t help but think of her grandmother. “Gram would
have referred to him as debonair like some of the movie stars of
the forties.”

“I could see that,” Mitch agreed. “He looks
the confident and charming sort. He was also a world traveler. Look
at the different locals of these pictures.” He pushed a few toward
her. “I believe this is Cairo, another is London and I’m certain
one is Barcelona and Cuba as well. He certainly got around.”

“I wonder who he is,” Amanda said. “It really
is a shame that people don’t put names, dates and places on the
backs of pictures.”

“Let’s see what we can find out on the
Internet about this house,” Mitch suggested. “We may get lucky and
come across a picture of him.”

“That’s a good idea.” Amanda stood to go get
her laptop from her bedroom when thunder sounded as if it rendered
the sky in two and the lights flickered. She wasn’t sure if it was
caused by the storm or the ghost. She remained where she was and
looked at Mitch.

“I’ll go with you.”

She grinned, glad that she didn’t have to
ask.

She flicked on the switch to the hall lights
and as they climbed the stairs the lights turned persnickety
flickering on and off.

This time Amanda chalked it up to the storm
rather than the ghost, since thunder rumbled loudly outside, and
headed to the bedroom, the door open just as they had left it. She
approached it without trepidation and as she turned to enter the
room the lights went out plunging them into dusky darkness.

“A lot of good the computer will do us now,”
she said turning her head to look at Mitch as she entered the
room.

His focused stare warned her that there was
something in the room she just might not want to see. As much as
she didn’t want to turn around, she did. In the far corner floated
an apparition that slowly formed into the full-fledged ghost of the
man in the pictures. He was transparent, though his identity quite
clear. He stood there staring at them, as if letting them know he
purposely allowed them to see him and then he stretched his hand
out pointing to Amanda and smiled.

Mitch stepped protectively in front of her.
“Let me help you move on.”

The ghost nodded and then vanished.

“He’s gone that’s it. It’s over?” Amanda
asked.

“No, it’s just beginning,” Mitch said and to
her surprise and delight wound his arm around her, yanked her up
against him and kissed her like a man claiming his territory.

A few minutes later they found themselves
rolling around on the bed together, his shirt and her top quickly
discarded along with sound reason. It got hot and heavy fast, his
kisses driving her insane and she wasn’t referring to the ones on
her lips.

The man was a virtual Casanova in bed; she
simply could not resist him.

The thought was like a splash of cold water
in her face. Was it Mitch or the ghost making love to her?

She pushed at him, though he didn’t respond
at first. It took shouting his name that got him to stop and made
her think that perhaps he was possessed and not with a hungry need
for her.

He bolted off the bed, grabbing his shirt and
disappeared into the bathroom slamming the door behind him.

She quickly slipped her top on and redid her
ponytail, since it had come nearly undone and couldn’t help but
feel a sudden loss. Her heart ached, as if she had just lost a
loved one. This was driving her mad. She had always dreamed of
falling in love, young foolish dreams, though Gram had always
encouraged them.

“Don’t settle,” she would say. “Wait for the
man that makes your heart beat madly and who insanely loves you and
can’t keep his hands off you. Wait even if it takes a lifetime and
then you’ll never have any regrets.”

Amanda always accused her Gram of being a
romantic and her Gram would laugh and agree. “Romance is
everything, my darling. It is an indication of whether a man loves
you or himself more.”

Mitch hadn’t hesitated to step in front of
her when the ghost had reached out to her. He had held her close
when they had entered the house and had immediately taken her out
of the house when he had seen how upset she had been. He was
tender, kind and attentive to her.

Why wouldn’t he be? You hired him, you
idiot.

She shook her head trying to get rid of the
sensible thought. She didn’t want to think sensibly; she wanted
this to be real between her and Mitch. She wanted the lusty
passion, the quick, heart-stopping attraction and the undeniable
craziness of taking that first step off a cliff and falling into
love.

He came out of the bathroom and she noticed
that his hair was damp around his face. Cold water had definitely
been necessary for him. She could use a shot of it herself to ease
the heat that continued to pulse through her body and torment all
those intimate nooks and crannies.

“Grab your laptop and let’s go downstairs. We
need to find out who this guy is and get him out of here before...
He shook his head and marched out of the room.

Amanda quickly followed, the laptop tucked
under her arm.

~~~

The house had an interesting history.
Blackstone Manor had been built at the turn of the century by the
Blackstone family. Thomas Blackstone, grandson of the Blackstone
patriarch Henry, followed in his father’s tradition amassing even
more wealth through various businesses and investments. Thomas,
when in residence, threw lavish parties for friends and relatives
at the manor. He traveled extensively for business and pleasure
often taking the youngest of his five grandchildren, Michael with
him.

“Looks like we may have found our ghost,”
Mitch said.

Amanda agreed. “Thomas Blackstone passed his
love of travel and adventure onto his grandson Michael.”

“Let’s see if we can find a picture of him,”
he said and in no time the two of them sat silently staring at a
picture of their ghost.

“He was a good looking man,” Amanda said,
though that was an understatement. The man was drop-dead gorgeous.
“I bet many a woman lost their heart to him.”

“He sure looked to have it all,” Mitch
said.

“You think?” she asked, staring at the man
who looked happy enough in the photo. “I wonder if he ever found
love.”

“Did you hear that?” Mitch asked quickly
scanning the room.

Amanda remained silent and listened, but
heard nothing.

“I could have sworn I heard that chuckle
again.”

They listened for a few minutes more but
heard nothing.

Mitch scratched his shaking head. “Let’s see
if we can find out more about Michael Blackstone.”

A half hour later they both sat staring at
the computer screen.

“How sad,” Amanda said, “for him and his
grandfather.”

“It would seem that after Michael died in
World War II his grandfather lost all interest in life.”

Amanda cast a glance around the living room,
a fire crackled in the fireplace and soft lighting added to the
peaceful ambience. But no matter how lovely, she couldn’t see
shutting herself away here for years on end.

“He lived twenty-five years secluded in this
house mourning the loss of his grandson,” Amanda said.

“Or he spent twenty-five happy years here
sharing the place with his grandson.”

“You think that’s what kept him here... his
grandson’s ghost?”

“That waitress did mention something about
thinking the ghost should have been gone by now.”

“That’s right,” Amanda said, “though you
would think the ghost would have left with his grandfather’s
passing.”

“Something else keeps him here.” Mitch
stretched his arms above his head and she couldn’t help but admire
his flexing muscles or the way he groaned as he worked the tension
out of his back.

She was attracted to him and the ghost wasn’t
anywhere around.

She spoke too soon, the hot breath once again
suddenly at the back of her neck. She jumped up annoyed. “Damn it,
what do you want from me?”

Suddenly Michael Blackstone materialized in a
shadowy corner.

Mitch was already standing, his arm reaching
out for Amanda and drawing her close.

Amanda asked again. “What do you want from
me?”

He pointed at her.

“You can’t have me,” she said. “Tell me how I
can help you.”

He continued pointing at her until he finally
drifted away like a puff of smoke.

Mitch immediately stepped away from her
leaving a chill to run through her. She stared longingly at
him.

“I can’t,” he said. “I can’t come near you
right now. I want to kiss you and not stop kissing you.”

She wanted the same, though she wanted more
than kisses from him.

“We’re going out to eat; get dressed,” he
ordered.

She didn’t argue; they needed time away from
here or perhaps a safe distance from each other. She hurried out of
the room and upstairs to her bedroom. She would have liked for him
to come with her but that would have been tempting fate. And at the
moment she feared the consequences of being alone in the bedroom
with him more than she feared facing the ghost.

Within a few minutes she had changed into a
red sweater and jeans and black heeled boots. She freed her hair
giving it a good brushing and left it to fall free. She glanced at
the portrait of Gram over the bed and smiled.

People insisted that she resembled her, but
she was nowhere near as beautiful as her or as elegant. Gram had a
grace about her that she lacked. Perhaps it was all those years on
stage, her every movement flowing like a lovely melody that
captured the attention of the endless audiences she had played
to.

When Gram entered a room everyone took
notice.

“I miss you,” she said to the portrait and
fled the room tears brimming in her eyes.

Mitch waited at the bottom of the staircase
for her and she stopped at the top when she saw him and attempted
to collect her fluctuating emotions.

“Damn, but you’re gorgeous,” he said.

He said it with such conviction that it
caused her tears to spill over as she flew down the stairs and into
his arms.

He held her tight, as if he never intended to
let her go. “What’s wrong?”

“I miss Gram.”

He kissed her then, a gentle, consoling kiss
that soothed. He kept his arm around her as they walked to the door
and opened it without a problem. Neither of them heard the chuckle
that followed them out the door.

~~~

They returned to the Chowder House and asked
if Susie was working. She was and they were seated in her section.
It was a quiet night, the place almost empty due to the storm so
Susie could linger talking with them.

“The Blackstone family was well known around
here. If it hadn’t been for Thomas Blackstone this town would have
died years ago. He got a lot of the businesses going. I remember
meeting him when I was young, a big jovial man, always smiling.
That is until his grandson died. No one saw him much after
that.

“Everyone here was really happy when your
grandmother moved in. Businesses began thriving again from all the
work your grandmother sent their way.” Susie shook her head. “The
only thing no one in town could figure out was why Thomas
Blackstone had left the place to Sophia Barnes. Why do you leave a
mansion to somebody you never knew?”