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Authors: Stacey Coverstone

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BOOK: A Haunted Twist of Fate
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“It’s me, Frank.”

“I’m here, too, Frank,” Opal said, lightly taking
his other arm. “I’m going to check your blood pressure again, honey.”

“Okay.”

Colt watched in astonishment at the gentle way in
which Opal handled Frank. The tone of her voice had even changed. She sounded .
. . sweet.

“It’s just fine,” she told Frank after she’d
listened and removed the cuff. Opal wrote the number down in a notebook and
then looked at her watch and excused herself. “I’ll leave you two boys to your
privacy. I’ve got my soap to watch anyway.”

Once she’d left the room, Colt noticed Frank’s eyes
were fully open and his gaze steady. “I don’t know how you put up with that
woman,” he chuckled. “She’s as rough as a cob.”

Frank smiled. “Opal ain’t so bad. She keeps me
laughing. That lady can tell some real humdingers.”

“I’ll bet. Well, laughing is a good thing.  Can I
get you anything? A glass of water?” He noticed a full pitcher sitting on the
dresser.

Frank waved it off. “Nah, I’m fine. But I wouldn’t
mind rattling these old bones a bit.” When he tried to scoot himself up, Colt
lifted Frank by the waist so he was comfortably sitting up straight. He felt
light as a feather.

“Thank you. That’s better.  I get tired of lying
down all the time. Wish I could go outside and take a walk now and then. But my
bones would probably break if I put any pressure on my feet.”

Colt took a seat in a straight-back chair that was
next to the bed, thinking how it must be hell to become old and decrepit. Worse
yet, Frank was alone, with no one but a surly nurse as a companion.

“How’s the lady who bought my saloon?” Frank asked,
out of the blue.

“She’s real nice. Her name’s Shay Brennan. As a
matter of fact, she’d like to meet you sometime, when you’re up to having
visitors.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, I guess she just wants to meet the man who
owned the property before her. And I believe she’s interested in the history of
the building.”

Frank’s piercing gaze showed intrigue. “Has she
experienced anything peculiar going on in there?”

Colt hesitated before answering. He didn’t know the
true reasons for Frank shutting down the business years ago when he was a
younger man. His granddaddy had hinted it had something to do with supernatural
occurrences, but Frank had never confided in Colt.

“Yes, sir, she has.  But you probably already knew
that.”

A strange cackle erupted from Frank’s throat,
sending a jolt through Colt.  Then Frank’s skinny arm reached out and he
snatched at the air, grabbing for Colt’s sleeve. Colt stood up and leaned
against the bed railing. Frank tugged on his shirtsleeve.

“Bring her by tomorrow,” he croaked.

“You sure you’re strong enough?”

“Bring her,” Frank repeated.

“Yes, sir. I’ll do that.”

When Frank lay back against the pillow and closed
his eyes, Colt patted his arm. “I’ll see you tomorrow. You rest now.”

A slight nod ended the conversation.

“I’ll be back sometime tomorrow,” Colt told Opal as
he sauntered through the living room and flung open the front door. “And I’m
bringing a visitor, so I want you to be on your best behavior. Okay?”

Engrossed in her soap opera and the handful of
cheese curls she popped into her mouth, Opal grunted her goodbye.

 

 

Sixteen

 

Shay found Colt’s house with ease that evening. As
she pulled into the paved driveway and ran her gaze over the property, she was
pleased with the looks of it. It was an older two-story home with vinyl siding,
a front porch with white railing, and a nicely manicured lawn. A large tree
shaded the side yard. Flowerbeds or hanging plants would have brightened the
exterior, but all in all, it was very nice. It was simply missing a woman’s
touch.

Colt stepped outside and waved her in. The sight of
him caused heat to race through her veins. He looked so good in tight jeans and
a t-shirt that showed off his muscular arms. Too good. Had she made a mistake
in coming here? Time would tell.

“Hi,” she said, strolling up the steps. “Nice to see
you.”

Before she could anticipate it, he planted a quick welcome
kiss on her lips.  That pleasant burning sensation began to swell in her again.
She was determined not to have sex with Colt, but that didn’t mean she was
immune to his charming advances. Every move he made, each slow smile, the way
he walked, the way he talked, how he touched her—everything about him oozed
masculine sexuality.

His gaze moved up and down her body. “You sure look
beautiful tonight, Shay. And you smell good, too.”

“Thank you.”

“Come in. I’ll show you around.”

“This is for you.” She handed him the bottle of wine
she’d bought, thinking it would go well with Italian food.

“I appreciate that, darlin’.”  He flashed her that sexy
smile.  Her breath hitched at being called the pet name again. Like a puppet
head on a string, her gaze landed on his backside as he led the way in. Denim
jeans had never looked so fine on a man.

The interior of his house felt warm and cozy. As he
gave her the dollar tour, she noted hardwood floors throughout and neutral
paint on the walls. In the living room, the furniture was dark leather, worn in
and very comfy looking. A flat-screen television hung above the chunky mantle
of a stone fireplace. Imagining them curled up in front of a blazing fire on a
cold wintry evening set her heart dancing, but she quickly tried to erase the
thought.

A sturdy oak table, four chairs and a hutch were the
only furniture in the formal dining room. An outdated chandelier was suspended
over the table, and a couple of oil paintings hung on the walls.

“I never use this room,” he said, as they walked
through it into the eat-in kitchen.

She had expected an old-fashioned kitchen in need of
updating, but was pleasantly surprised to walk into a room with modern cherry
cabinets, gleaming granite countertops, and stainless steel appliances. A
center island and a table with built-in banquette seating under a bay window
highlighted the space. He set the wine bottle on the island countertop.

Noticeably missing was the savory smells of Italian
food simmering on the stove. Shay wondered whether he’d changed his mind about
cooking for her and they’d be going out to supper instead. That would be
disappointing, because she’d wanted to see what kind of a chef he was. She
expected there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

“Your kitchen is beautiful.  Was it like this when
you purchased the house?”

“No. The house had been a foreclosure, so we got it
at a bargain basement price. The interior was in pretty bad shape at the time,
but the bones of the place were good. I pretty much had the whole thing gutted
inside and we started over. The kitchen was the last room to be done. It was
Denise’s dream kitchen, but unfortunately, she got sick and didn’t have much of
an opportunity to use it.”

Shay’s heart went out to Colt. This was the
most—actually
all
he’d said about his wife, and she sensed he’d truly
loved her. As fast as he’d brought her up, however, he changed the subject just
as quick.

“That’s it, except for my bedroom, which is
upstairs.” With a devilish grin, he reminded her, “But you can’t see that
tonight.”

“Why? Do you have clothes strewn all over the floor
and an unmade bed?”

He laughed. “No. Because
I
invited you over
this evening. Have you forgotten what I said about you sleeping in my bed?”

“Not at all.  But we weren’t discussing sleeping
or…not sleeping in your bedroom, or anywhere else.” She
had
remembered,
and was glad the tour didn’t include the bedroom. Anyway, she’d hoped he’d
forgotten that conversation. Imagining herself in bed with him was dangerous. Temptation
could only lead to making decisions she’d regret later. The subject needed to
be changed and fast. “How long have you lived here?”

Before he could answer, the doorbell rang.  “Excuse
me, Shay.”

She followed him into the front room where he opened
the door to a pizza delivery boy.

“Thanks.”  He handed the young man some cash and
told him to keep the change. As he carried the pizza box and a plastic sack to
the kitchen, he slid a smile at her.  “You told me you like Italian, right?” He
placed the pizza box on the stove and then pulled a large bowl of salad out of
the plastic bag and set it on the countertop.

She had to grin as he removed two plates from the
kitchen cabinet.

“I’m not much of a cook,” he admitted while pulling
a bottle of ranch dressing from the fridge. “Hope you don’t mind. Do you like ranch?”

“Yes.” She laughed, having received her answer about
whether he was a good cook or not.

He eyeballed the bottle on the island.  “I’m sure
that wine is delicious, but pizza goes great with beer. Want one?”

“Sure. We can save the wine for another time.”

“Now you’re talking. For another time,” he repeated,
winking.

He poured two ice-cold beers into tall glasses. As
he offered her a stool at the island and a slice of pepperoni pizza on her
plate, it was strange, but she felt like they were a couple. There was no
pretense surrounding Colt. What you saw was what you got, and that’s what she
liked about him. After worrying how the evening would go, she started to relax.

“I saw Frank today,” he said between bites. “He’d
like to meet you.”

“Really? That’s great. How’s he feeling?”

“He’s weak, but still hanging in there. He asked me
to bring you by tomorrow. I have some houses to show in the morning, but will
you be available early afternoon?”

“Anytime is fine. I can’t wait to talk to him. Do
you think he’ll be able to shed some light on my situation?”

Colt shrugged. “The paranormal isn’t a topic I’ve
heard him speak of, but you’re a persuasive lady. If he has something to say, I
have no doubt you can get him to open up.”

She smiled, taking that as a compliment.

They adjourned to the living room after they’d
finished their pizza and salads, and Colt put on a CD of soft music. A button
on the wall lowered the lights in the room. For a good ol’ boy, as he liked to
call himself, she was starting to believe he was really a hardcore romantic.

He lowered her onto the sofa, and any predetermined
notions about not making out with him flew out the window when he held her face
in his hands and kissed her passionately.

 

 

Seventeen

 

It took every bit of willpower Shay could muster to
break away from Colt. It hadn’t taken long for his hands to start roaming, and
she’d lost strength to resist.

“It’s getting a little hot in here,” she breathed,
sitting up. With his well muscled body pressed to hers, she’d felt like a
teenager making out, but it had started to get intense. It was time to put the
brakes on Colt. She’d promised herself before she drove over that no matter how
attracted she was, or how she longed for intimacy, she wouldn’t have sex with
him tonight, and she meant to stick to her word.

“I think we both need to take a cold shower
tonight,” she said, attempting a joke.

“That’s going to be a problem for you since the
Buckhorn only has a tub.” He smiled seductively. “We can shower here, together,
if you’d like.” 

She knew he’d probably strip out of his clothes in
record time if she even hinted that might happen.  “When pigs fly,” she
replied, standing and adjusting her shirt, which he’d started to unbutton. 
Shay smoothed down her flyaway hair. It was time to go before things really got
out of hand. “Thanks for having me over, but I really need to be going.”  She grabbed
her purse off the chair where she’d tossed it when she’d arrived and strode to
the door. The need to get out of there as fast as possible had her trembling
from head to toe. With her hand firmly grasping the doorknob, she turned.  “What
time will you be picking me up tomorrow to go to Frank’s?”

Colt sprang up from the sofa. His shirt had pulled
out of his jeans and he swayed a little, like he was drunk. She knew he wasn’t,
but he was staring at her with that deep and powerful look in his eye.

“I want to make love to you,” he said softly.

She nodded. “I know. That’s why I’m leaving.” Her
heart pounded with an insane rhythm. She wanted him to make love to her, she
realized. But it was too soon to trust. Too soon to give herself to any man. “What
time tomorrow?” she repeated, feeling a howl working its way into her throat.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked like
a little boy who’d had his candy taken away. “I should be done with my clients
by one o’clock. I’ll come by the saloon right after.”

“Okay. See you then.” She flung the door open.  When
he followed her onto the porch, she bolted down the steps before she could
change her mind about leaving.

BOOK: A Haunted Twist of Fate
11.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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