Ghost for Sale (25 page)

He still smelled of cinnamon and limes. “How?” It seemed to be the only thing I was capable of saying.

“Darned if I know.” He laughed, a joyous sound. “It’s pretty hazy and getting more so by the minute. But I’ll try to explain.

“It was like I was in what you’d call a time continuum, like resting in this white space, aware of others in a shadowy kind of way, like me. As close as I can tell, it was a healing period for the spirit. Scents surrounded me: fresh air, honey, and sunshine. I floated in light and listened to the soft lazy lap of the seas.” He gave a helpless shrug. “Time had no meaning. Gradually, all the pain from the war, my sister’s death, being locked in that black void for so long, it went away.

“It was at that point I became aware of a greater being. I never saw her, but I felt such warmth and love.” He gave me a shy smile. “It’s like I feel when I’m with you. This presence, for lack of a better term, spoke to me without using words, just imparted the thoughts. She told me I was ready to move on, that it was time.

“I could move into the light forever with Anna, William, and Ezra or I could come back and be with the one I loved.” He raised his hand palm up and shook his head as if unable to put into words his experience. “Like reincarnating. The best way I can describe it is you get a second chance if you’ve left things undone on earth.

“Well that was a no brainer, as you’d say.” He chuckled. “The next thing I know, I’m plopped down here in the dead of night, naked as a jaybird.”

I put my hand to my mouth to stifle a giggle at the mental image. “How did you get clothes?”

He cleared his throat. “I borrowed them.”

My eyes widened. “You stole them? That is so un-Liam-like.”

He lifted his chin. “I prefer the term borrowed. I’ll make it up to the laddie. My options were limited.”

“So you arrived with nothing? No social security card? No credit card? No clothes?”

“That’s right, nothing but my bare skin.”

“We’re going to have to enlist Dad’s help.” I was getting excited. This was going to be fun. Liam would have to have a whole new persona created. And I was just the girl to help him do it. Another thought hit me. “How did you find me?”

“Oh, that was easy enough. Think of me as a compass and you the magnet. You’re my heart, Caitlin.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. My stomach fluttered and my pulse raced. No wonder I loved this man. No one else had ever made me feel this way. No one else ever would.

He continued to hold my hand as he leaned toward me, his expression intense. “I want to be with you, Caitlin. Now. Forever.”

My eyes filled. “I’m so glad,” I whispered, my heart overflowing with happiness. I didn’t care how or why, but the impossible had happened.

“There’s been something I’ve wanted to do since the first moment I laid eyes on you.” He dropped my hand, put his arms around me, and held me in a loose circle.

There it was. I’d missed that soft rolling accent that sounded like the sensuous slide of velvet when he spoke. I leaned into him, but he surprised me by clasping my arms and holding me away.

“Ye didn’t go and get engaged to Patrick, did ye?” His voice sounded strained, his expression, even in shadows, looked anxious.

“No. Patrick is a wonderful man. But there’s only one man for me, now or ever, Liam O’Reilly.”

He drew me closer. “The poor sod. What about that arse of a Clayton, have you given him the heave ho?”

“No, but it’s not from lack of trying. He can’t seem to see past his own significance.”

His eyes gleamed with anticipation. “He will when I tell him. Now where were we?” His lips hovered mere inches from mine. Warm hard arms drew me closer. “Caitlin,” he breathed.

Impatient with the wait, I reached up, grabbed two handfuls of thick silky hair, and pulled his head down. Our lips met and our tongues collided. Thunder rolled. Streaky flashes of lightning that had nothing to do with malignant spirits speared behind my eyelids. Months of pain and listlessness dissipated like smoke.

“Welcome to the twenty-first century, Liam O’Reilly,” I murmured when we finally drew apart.

“It’s going to take some getting used to. The lasses are more forward than in my day.” His eyes glinted as he smiled at me with that crooked grin that always left me weak in the knees.

“You have no idea.” I tugged his head back down to show him exactly what he could expect.

“I’ll try to bear up somehow,” he whispered against my mouth before his lips closed on mine.

My head whirled in a dizzy spiral of pleasure. I shifted closer and moved my hands to his shoulders to get a better grip. My flesh and blood ghost cooperated with enthusiasm. I had no doubt he’d manage the transition just fine. Then all thought fled as I lost myself in the wonder of him. Finally, I was home… And so was he.

Sandra Cox
writes Young Adult Fantasy, Paranormal and Historical Romance, and Metaphysical non-fiction. She lives in sunny North Carolina with her husband, a brood of critters, and an occasional foster cat. Although shopping is high on the list, her greatest pleasure is sitting on her screened-in porch, listening to the birds, sipping coffee and enjoying a good book. She's a vegetarian and a Muay Thai enthusiast. Please visit Sandra’s blog at sandracox.blogspot.com, find her on Facebook, or follow her on
twitter.com@Sandra_Cox

Keep reading for a peek at the first book in Sandra Cox’s Mutants series

LOVE, LATTES AND MUTANTS

Finding love is hard, even when you aren’t a mutant.

Like most seventeen-year-olds, Piper Dunn wants to blend in with the crowd. Having a blowhole is a definite handicap. A product of a lab-engineered mother with dolphin DNA, Piper spends her school days hiding her brilliant ocean-colored eyes and sea siren voice behind baggy clothing and ugly glasses. When Tyler, the new boy in school, zeroes in on her, ignoring every other girl vying for his attention, no one, including Piper, understands why...

Then Piper is captured on one of her secret missions rescuing endangered sea creatures and ends up in the same test center where her mother was engineered. There she discovers she isn’t the only one of her kind. Joel is someone she doesn’t have to hide from, and she finds herself drawn to the dolph-boy who shares her secrets. Talking to him is almost as easy as escaping from the lab. Deciding which boy has captured her heart is another story...

A Lyrical e-book on sale now.

Learn more about Sandra at http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/31643

“Miss Dunn, are we keeping you awake?” Mr. Grumble’s sarcastic remark draws titters from the class.

I jerk upright. “No, Mr. Grumble.” Heat floods my face.

“Glad to hear it.” He turns back to the whiteboard and writes an equation with a red marker.

I slink down in my seat and push my tinted glasses back up on my nose.

The class’s attention shifts from my discomfort. Some to the board where Mr. Grumble is still writing the equation, some to flirt outrageously with the new boy in class, some to sneak out their phones and send a text, which most definitely isn’t allowed.

Only the new girl—she and the boy are twins—takes time to give me a commiserating smile. I grimace back.

She’s always polite and kind in her dealings with me, something that confuses me.

Now her brother, Tyler, although polite, is oblivious. Comes from having girls trip all over him I guess.

The bell rings. I pick up my books. When the room clears, I slide out of my seat. Holly, the new girl, is waiting for me, her entourage grouped around her. She smiles. I glance over my shoulder but the warm smile is for me. She waves her friends on. “I’ll catch up.”

They move forward like a herd of sheep, perplexed expressions on their faces. Can’t blame them, I’m perplexed myself. I don’t get a lot of attention. My blonde hair is scraped back into a ponytail and pinned in a wrap-up sponge barrette. My clothes are baggier than a rapper’s and as unassuming as I can find. In other words, the total package is boring. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that’s the way I like it, but it’s necessary.

“Hi.” Holly shifts her books to her other arm.

“Hi.” I clutch my book bag to my chest, not making eye contact.

She falls in step beside me. “Bad luck hitting Grumble’s radar. Half the kids in class sleep through his lectures.”

I shrug.

“Would you like to grab a latte after school?” is her next conversational gambit.

“Why?” No doubt, I sound like a total jerk, but there’s no point in encouraging a friendship. Though the idea of an icy latte and girl talk appeals. A lot. If the situation were different, I’d be a girlie-girl, but it’s not and I’m not.

Chatter surrounds us. Juniors and seniors hurry down the hall to their classes. Rosemont is built like a letter U. Freshmen and sophomores on one side, juniors and seniors on the other; the gym and stage merge in the center.

“Because you look like you can use a friend. I know I can.”

“I have friends. Everyone has friends.” Okay, they’re people and creatures I’ve saved and they don’t know who I am, but I’m sure I could count on them in a pinch.

“And a sense of humor.” Holly laughs. “Who’d a thought?” She looks me over. Her lips twitch; she tries to hold back a smile.

I grin reluctantly. Then what she tacked on sinks in. “You’re the most popular girl in school right now. Why would you possibly need a friend?”

She bites her lips and looks at me.

I cave. “Okay, as a matter of fact, I’d love a latte, but I warn you I’m not noted for my sterling conversation. I’m clueless about the latest trends in hair, clothes, or shoes.”

At that moment, her hottie-of-a-brother Tyler lopes by. “Hol,” he acknowledges his shorter, fraternal twin. He gives me an absent nod. Not unkind, worse, indifferent. I’m damn sick of fading into the woodwork.

She looks at me as if she’s waiting for me to figure it out. I glance from her to her brother. Right. Holly’s pretty but hardly drop-dead gorgeous. Though her vivacity makes up for it. And she is the new kid. Still, I get it. The girls are sucking up in the hopes of scoring with her brother.

“Alright, I’ll meet you at the Pink Cat Coffee Shop at four o’clock.”

She smiles and her pretty features light up. It takes her out of the attractive—but not mega hot—category and puts her in her brother’s. “See you at the Pink Cat. Don’t stand me up.”

“Hey, it’s not a date you know.” I’m a firm believer in gay rights, but it’s so not my thing.

She giggles. “My heart belongs to Ben Henley.” She names the football player who was firmly ensconced as the most popular boy at Rosemont until her twin arrived on the scene.

“I’ll be there,” I promise and head for social studies.

It may not have been smart but having a normal teenage destination to look forward to will certainly make the rest of the day easier to get through. I lied when I said I wasn’t interested in hairstyles and shoes. I love girlie stuff. Anyone with a drop of girl DNA loves shoes.

I look at my clothes and sigh. I’ll be so glad to get home where I can shuck them like a used cocoon.

For now, I continue the role of uninteresting, blah nerd. I do such a good job even the geeks keep their distance.

With a sigh, I thump my books on my desk and slide into my seat.

For the next forty minutes, I immerse myself in the effects of mob behavior on normal people. As soon as the bell rings, I shoot out of my seat and head for the door.

I hit the hall at a fast pace, not paying as much attention as I should and collide with Edgar the Asshole Fahrenbacher, the most egotistical senior in Rosemont. Although, why anyone with a name like Edgar should be arrogant is beyond me. Maybe he’s overcompensating. He calls himself the Stallion. With chestnut hair, tight jeans, and a swagger, he’s not bad looking, but his looks don’t match his ego.

“Oof.” My books go flying and so do his. They hit the floor with a thud.

“Sorry,” I mumble, head down, heat shooting through my cheeks.

“Not only are you a mouse, you’re a klutz. Pick my books up.” Totally humiliated, I bend to comply, hating every minute of it. I would much rather knock him on his swaggering butt and I could do it, too, if I weren’t trying to keep a low profile. Well, I could in the water anyway. I can hold my own against anybody in the water.

When I reach for his chemistry book, he kicks it farther down the hall. Embarrassment turns to mad. What a total jerk. Before I totally blow my cover, hands reach out and sweep up the books.

“Which ones are yours?”

I look into piercing blue eyes and forget to breathe—and everything else for that matter.

“Which are yours?” Holly’s brother repeats patiently.

Mutely, I point at the top three. He hands them to me before he helps me to my feet. The rest he thrusts at Edgar. “I’m sure you can get the other book yourself,” he says easily to Edgar.

Edgar nods, scowling at the interruption of his version of pull-the-wings-off-the-fly.