Nearly Departed in Deadwood (41 page)

      I couldn’t think of one good thing that could come from spilling it, especially in my line of work. “Yes.”

      “Thank you.”

      “However, let’s just say there were such things as ghosts and you could sense them.”

      He lifted his brows and waited for me to continue.

      “Why do you think Wolfgang’s mother’s ghost was hanging around the house? Haunting it?”

      “I never said it was his mother. You just assumed that.”

      “Oh. Then you saw—I mean, smelled, his sister?”

      “Something like that.”

      “You’d said she was angry about being dead.”

      “Very.”

      “Why?”

      “Because her brother had killed her when he shoved her down the stairs.”

      My mouth gaped. I hadn’t shared that part of Wolfgang’s story with anyone last night. Not Detective Cooper, not Harvey, not Doc. I didn’t know why, probably to protect the little boy inside the monster, the poor child whose cruel sister had stolen the light from his life and left him in darkness.

      “How did you know about that? Who told you?” I asked.

      “Wilda sort of showed me how she died the first time I went into the house, but I wasn’t sure who’d pushed her until I did some research and deciphering.”

      I shivered, chilled by his words. This had to be some parlor trick of his. He must have read something blaming Wolfgang for her death at the library. “How were you able to go back in the house during the fire? You couldn’t even step inside the foyer on Friday without collapsing.”

      “I knew what I was facing. I could prepare up here,” he tapped his temple, “for her.”

      The conviction in his voice gave me pause. He really believed he could sense dead people. Where on earth had he come from? More importantly, “What brought you to Deadwood, Doc?”

      “Nothing brought me. I was just passing through on my way out West.”

      “But something convinced you to stay. What?” I remembered his knowledge of the details of Emma Cranson’s disappearance, which occurred about the same time he claimed to have come to town. “Was it the first missing girl? Did you think you could help find her?”

      “No. Not initially. That came later, after I started learning more about Deadwood’s history and experimenting.”

      “Experimenting with what?”

      “The past.”

      The past? What? “How?”

      “It’s easy around here. There’s lots to work with.”

      He was being about as clear as chocolate pudding. “Okay, if it wasn’t the kidnapping that made you decide to stick around, what then?”

      He stood there looking at me, his lips thin, squeezed tight. For a moment, I didn’t think he was going to answer me. I lifted my chin and refused to budge. I wanted an answer.

      He exhaled loudly. “Wild Bill.”

      “Hickok? Really? You’re
that
big of a fan?”

      “No, I mean Wild Bill convinced me to stay. Literally. I ran into him in town.”

      I laughed. When he didn’t even crack a smile, I stopped. “You’re serious?”

      He nodded slowly.

      I stared into his brown eyes, searching for something that would show he was pulling my leg. That it was all a hoax. That I didn’t have a Titanic-sized crush on a human bloodhound who believed he could sniff out ghouls and banshees.

      Doc stared back, giving no ground. “If you want to walk out of here and never look back,” his tone was low, somber, “I’ll understand.”

      He was offering me an out. A sweet gesture, but ... I stepped inside the room and closed the door. “It’s not that easy to get rid of me, Doc.”

      His eyes narrowed as I strolled toward him. “I never said I wanted to. Decent Realtors are hard to come by.”

      I stopped an arm’s length away from him. We shared a secret now. A doozy of a secret. Whether I believed in it or not didn’t matter. I smiled up at him. “Why won’t you step inside Calamity Jane’s?”

      “I don’t like the smell.”

      I raised my brows. “You think it’s haunted?”

      He shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched, tense. “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”

      “I don’t, but humor me.”

      “Either you believe or you don’t.”

      We’d reached a stalemate, a typical ending to our usual dance routine. I sidestepped. “What about the Purple Door Saloon? You made me switch chairs that day I had lunch with Jeff. Is there a bad smell in there, too?”

      He broke eye contact. “Something like that.”

      His discomfort with this subject couldn’t be more obvious, yet he wasn’t shutting me out. That made my stomach all tingly. Since he was in the sharing mood, I asked, “What do you do for a living, Doc?”

      “I’m a financial planner.”

      “Really?”

      His gaze came back to meet mine. “Surprised?”

      I nodded. “I guess I hadn’t expected you to do something so ...”
boring
.

      “Mundane?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Not all of us can handle the wild roller coaster ride of realty, Violet.” The corners of his eyes crinkled with mirth. His body didn’t seem so rigid anymore.

      “I could use a financial planner in my life.” As soon as I got some finances to plan.

      “You don’t even know if I’m any good.”

      I had no doubt—on many fronts. I grabbed a handful of his T-shirt and tugged him toward me. “You can show me.”

      Doc took my hands in his, running his thumbs over my palms as he frowned at the cloth wristbands. “How are the rope burns?”

      “Healing.” I squirmed under his feather-light touches. “How’s your throat? Still scratchy?”

      “A bit. Yours?”

      “The same. Thanks for saving me.”

      “I didn’t. I almost got you killed. I should have figured out Wolfgang’s connection to the girls on the swim team.”

      “The police hadn’t, and that’s their job.”

      “But a big clue was right there on the Rec Center walls, and I’d been in there almost every day.”

      “Yeah, but Detective Cooper said Wilda was missing in the team picture, only her name mentioned.”

      “I should have tried harder after you took me to Hessler’s place on Friday, but I couldn’t think straight.”

      “Because of the house?”

      “Because of you. You mess up my head.”

      I took that as a compliment and towed him closer yet. “How was your date with Natalie?”

      His lips curved. “She’s a good cook.”

      “She’s a woman of many qualities.”

      “What about you?”

      “I’m a lousy cook.” If he didn’t kiss me soon ... I captured his thumbs in my fists, stopping them, trapping them. “Are you going to have dinner with her again?”

      “I don’t know. Are you going to go out with your secret admirer again?”

      “Not if I can help it.”

      “Good.”

      I entwined my fingers with his. “Addy thinks you’re a nice guy.”

      “What about her mother?”

      “She thinks you have potential.”

      He leaned into me, his eyes on my lips, his eyelashes at half-mast. “Potential for what?”

      I thought of Natalie’s wedding dreams, Layne’s man-of-the-house worries, Addy’s hunger for any kind of father figure. “To cause a lot of trouble in her life.”

      “Tell Addy’s mother the feeling is mutual.”

      One big hiccup and my lips would touch his. The warm, scent of his skin had me panting, itching for a bite. “Are you going to kiss me or what?”

      “I shouldn’t.”

      I angled my head, lining up with his mouth. “Why not?”

      “You’re my Realtor. I have my rule.”

      “Fuck your rule.” I yanked on his hands and his mouth came down on mine.

      This time there was no hesitation for either of us. The water had already been tested and found boiling. My tongue danced with his, twisting and turning, entwined in our own steamy samba, our breathing a mix of gasps and groans.

      He broke the kiss way too soon and put several feet of cold air between us. His chest heaved; his eyes dark, obsidian pools in which I wanted to skinny-dip. “I want to put an offer on Mona’s house.”

      I blinked. “You do?” Damn, I was a better kisser than I thought.

      “Yes.” His gaze raked over my face. “How soon can we close?”

      “I don’t know.” I was having trouble grinding my brain out of lust and into real estate. “If we push hard and fast enough,” I paused, smiling, enjoying the image of Doc, naked, his body thrusting into mine, “maybe two or three weeks.”

      “Perfect.”

      That meant I had exactly one week to get Doc and the seller to agree to everything and scribble their signatures on the dotted line before I could submit all of the necessary paperwork to Jane. Only then could I put my
X
on Jane’s Sale Pending board and save my job—and my ass. “I’ll need you to sign the offer letter today.”

      “No problem.” He was staring at my lips again, so I licked them.

      “And if you’re game to do whatever it takes to get the seller to sign and accept our offer before the week is up, I’ll take you to dinner.”

      He closed the gap between us and grabbed the lapels of my dress. “Oh, you’ll do more than that.” The surety in his tone made me shiver.

      I gave him a wicked grin. “You ever hiked around Mount Rushmore?”

      “Stop looking at me like that, Violet.” He tugged on each lapel. The snap just above my chest popped open.

      I raised an eyebrow and baited, “Like what?”

      He tugged again, another snap popped, exposing the little rose on my lacy purple bra. “Like you want me to tear your dress off.”

      I scraped my fingernails along his muscled forearms. “Then what would you do?”

      Three more snaps popped open, my belly button now able to peek out. I sucked in my gut, wishing the light was a bit dimmer.

      He leaned forward and whispered against my lips, “I’d touch you.”

     
Ooh la la
. “Where?”

      “Hmmmm, let me see.” His fingers traced the contours of my breasts, then skimmed down my ribcage, hovered at my hips. With one yank, he tore open the last five snaps.

      My dress hung around me like a green drape, framing my body for his eyes to devour—which they did.

      I covered my stomach with my hands, suddenly feeling bashful. “I’ve had twins.”

      He looked up into my eyes, his pupils dilated, his face slightly flushed. “I know.”

      “I don’t look like I did when I was twenty.”

      “Neither do I.”

      “I have stretch marks.”

      “I don’t care.”

      “And things sag more than I’d like.”

      He grabbed one of my hands and placed it on the front of his shorts. “Feel that?”

      Boy, did I. A thrill rocketed through my veins at knowing that I did that to him. I nodded, burning up inside.

      “I want you, Violet. Every tempting part of you.”

      I grinned like an idiot, I couldn’t help it. Doc wanted me, warts and all. “You should probably seek counseling about that.”

      “I’d rather try some hands-on therapy first.” He lifted my palms to his lips and kissed them. “Now where were we?”

      I placed his hands back on my hips. “You were going to tell me where you’d touch me.”

      “Right.” He dropped to his knees before me, his hands sliding around my behind, cupping my hips through the purple satin and lace. “I’d start here.” He leaned forward and drew a circle around my belly button with his tongue.

      “Then I’d probably go here.” My knees trembled as he trailed a string of kisses down to the top of my panties, the stubble on his chin grazing, tickling me deep inside.

      I started to feel lightheaded and realized I wasn’t breathing. “Then what?” I gulped, clinging to the ladder behind me.

      “Then I might kiss the inside of your knee,” which he did. “Or your inner thigh.” Again, his lips followed suit.

      “Holy shit, Doc!” I panted. It had been too long since I’d had an orgasm for me to stay in this game much longer. All he had to do was touch me right ...

      “Or this spot here.” His mouth moved higher, and his finger slipped inside my underwear, caressing, playing hide-and-seek.

      There! The shudders started in my toes and rumbled all the way up to my neck. I gripped Doc’s shoulders, rocking as wave after wave slammed into me, moaning, writhing, floating while Doc continued to kiss and touch, lick and stroke.

      When I landed back on earth, I sighed and opened my eyes. “Is the ride over already?”

      Doc rose, unbuttoning his shorts. “Hell, no. We’re just getting rolling.”

      “I’m on birth control,” I blurted, “and clean.” Might as well get the awkward stuff behind us. “You?”

      His grin grew Cheshire-cat wide. “As a whistle.”

     
Yippity do dah!
I started to kick off my boots.

      “Leave your boots on.”

      “Kinky—nice.” I barely managed to get one foot free of my underwear when he grabbed me around the waist and hoisted me up on a ladder rung.

      “Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded.

      I obeyed, locking my ankles together as he positioned himself against me.

      “Look at me, Violet,” his voice was hoarse, strained; his eyes black, hypnotic. “I’ve fantasized about doing this since you tripped over my box of books.” Then he plunged into me, making me gasp. He stopped halfway in and pulled back an inch. “God, you’re tight.”

      “It’s been awhile.” Hell, I was surprised it hadn’t closed up for good.

      “This is so much better than I’d imagined,” he whispered against my lips.

      I adjusted, relaxing my muscles so I could take all of him. “Prove it.”

      He thrust again, this time buried. A groan tore from his throat. “You have no idea,” he said, getting a delicious rhythm going, “how much you light me up.”

      Talk like that was going to turn me into his own personal sex slave, chains and all. I captured his bottom lip in my teeth and then trailed my lips to his ear as I dug my boot heels into his flesh. “Harder, Doc,” I ordered, between gasps, and bit his ear lobe. “Don’t hold back.”