Authors: Stacy McKitrick
Tags: #vampire, #Stacy, #Me, #Yours, #I'm, #McKitrick, #Paranormal, #Bite, #978-1-61650-637-7, #Sunny, #Mystery, #Ghosts, #My, #romance, #Thriller
* * * *
Nick hovered over the roof of his prison. The cops had come and gone and the squatter had been arrested for a crime he hadn’t committed. Well, it’s possible he had committed crimes, but he certainly wasn’t responsible for assaulting Bridget.
The familiar silver truck pulled into the driveway. Guess his father wasn’t sneaking in this time around. So what brought him back? Hoping to discover a dead body?
“Sorry to disappoint you, Dad.”
Nick materialized on the first floor just as Dad came in through the door. Sure enough, he headed for the elevator shaft.
All the evidence had been removed, leaving a nice, clean, empty space behind. He turned in a circle, probably looking for any clue as to what had happened, but the cops had been thorough. He pulled out his cell phone.
“Who you calling?” Nick put his ear to his father’s phone. Eavesdropping was so much easier when you couldn’t be seen.
“Hey, Carl,” Rob answered. “What are you doing up so early?”
“Couldn’t sleep. I’m going to head out to the Rialto site and check things out. Want to tag along?”
“Carl, if you’re having problems, I can take over the management.”
“I did have problems at first, but I’m past that. I’ll go into work later and see who’s available to start work on Tuesday. I’m sorry I didn’t get to it sooner.”
The project was back on, huh? Explained a lot.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Rob said. “I understand.”
“So, you want to tag along?”
“No, I’ll pass. But Carl, there’s something you should know. I was there yesterday. Some bum had been living in the place. I called the cops and he’s been arrested.”
“What were you doing he—there?”
“Ooh, good catch, Dad. Do you think Rob noticed the slip?”
“It’s a long story and I can’t talk about it now. Just thought you should know in case there’s any damage. I didn’t have a chance to examine the area. Hey, are you going to Kate’s tomorrow? I know she asked you.”
“She asked me because she thought I’d be lonely. I don’t know….”
“Come on. Go. It’ll be fun. Besides, I want you to meet Bridget.”
“You sound like you two are an item now.”
“Yeah, we are. I finally got her to agree to date. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I gotta go. Bye.”
Nick’s father disconnected the call and stared at the phone for a moment before pocketing the item.
“Well, now you know she’s still alive. So, you staying or going?” Nick asked.
As if to answer a question he couldn’t possibly hear, his father headed for the stairs.
“Guess you’re staying.”
* * * *
Hell’s bells.
Bridget stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she grasped the sides of the sink. Had she just agreed to date Rob? Oh God. He was like a drug. One she would never get enough of. His kiss alone rendered her brain useless, letting her body make all the decisions.
Right now her body screamed for release, but her brain had come back online and put the brakes on that. Slow would have to do. Maybe if she went superslow, he’d lose interest. Of course, if he kissed her like that again, slow would take on a whole new meaning—torture.
The headache she hadn’t missed slammed into her brain.
“You decent?” Charlie asked from inside the shower.
Bridget slid the curtain aside with a velocity that rattled the hangers. “How long have you been here?” she whispered.
“I left after you groped my brother.”
“Oh, God.”
“Yeah, that was my thought, too.”
Bridget sat on the toilet seat and held her throbbing head. “What do you want?”
“Nick. Someone else to talk to. The ability to leave this frickin’ area!”
“I get it. What do you want from me now?”
“Well, I noticed Robbie seems okay with knowing you can see ghosts and all. So why haven’t you told him about Carl?”
“I can’t.”
“Sure you can. You shape your lips and say ‘Carl killed your sister.’”
Bridget looked up. “Don’t you get it? Nick knew about Carl. You knew a little bit about Carl. What do you think would happen if Rob found out? Are you looking to have him join you two?”
“But you know. You saying your life’s not in danger?”
“I’ve never met the man. And I won’t if I can help it. So no, I don’t feel threatened.”
“But don’t you think Rob can help if he knew?”
“No, I think Rob would confront the man. You have to trust me.”
“Like I have a choice. Tell me you’re going back, though.”
“Rob promised he’d take me today.” If she’d rested. Well, she’d definitely rested. Probably the best sleep she’d had in months. And not one nightmare. Was that what she could expect being with the man? It was hard enough not to care for him without thinking about all the perks.
A knock on the door made her jump.
“Are you okay?” Rob asked.
Bridget stood and opened the door. Charlie vanished, as well as her headache. “I’m okay. Just talking with your sister.”
“Oh, well, I guess I could leave you alone.”
“No. It’s okay. The headache was getting to me.”
“Headache?”
The alarm in his voice made her pause. Damn. When would she learn to keep her big fat mouth shut? “It’s nothing. I get them when she’s around.”
“Is that normal? Shouldn’t you see a doctor?”
She walked passed him and headed for the bedroom. “And tell them what? That ghosts give me headaches? I don’t think so.” No need telling him about her nagging headaches. Then he might actually drag her to the hospital. Couldn’t have that.
He grabbed her elbow. “But you don’t have the headache now?”
“It went away the moment I opened the door to you.” She beamed a smile at him indicating the conversation was over. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a shower. Then maybe we could head out to the site?”
Car doors slammed outside. Rob entered the bedroom across the hall and looked out the window. “Your parents are here.”
“What? So early?” She had hoped to be dressed and looking lively or, better yet, gone by the time Dad had said anything.
“I’ll get out of your hair. Call me when you’re free and I’ll take you.”
She grabbed his arm. “What? Wait. You’re leaving?”
Rob smiled. “You don’t want me to go?”
Oh, she was a selfish bitch. For days she’d been pushing him away and now it hurt to see him leave? “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“That maybe you like having me around?”
Oh God, she did, but couldn’t admit it to him. She wanted to try that whole slow thing first. “I guess I’m a little nervous about how my mother—” The knock on the door cut her off. She so wasn’t ready to face her parents yet. What the hell would she tell them?
“Go on and get in the bathroom. I’ll stay and fix them coffee and we’ll see how things are after you come out.” He spun her around and gently pushed her off. “Go on.”
“Thank you,” she said over her shoulder.
She grabbed her clothes and rushed into the bathroom, adding “thinks fast on feet” to his growing list of perks. She was doomed.
* * * *
Rob held his breath as he opened the door. Hmm, maybe he should have looked in a mirror first. Or maybe brushed his teeth. Too late now.
“Good morn—”
Mrs. Quigley barged on inside. “Where’s my daughter?”
“Mona!” Mr. Quigley followed his wife. “I’m sorry, she’s a little anxious.”
Rob closed the door. “Bridget’s taking a shower. Would you like some coffee? I can put a pot on.”
Barnaby jumped up on Mrs. Quigley, wagging his tail.
“Oh my!” she said, trying to push the dog off.
“Barnaby, down! I’m sorry about him. He’s harmless.”
The dog dropped to all fours but continued wagging his tail. He then turned toward the sliding glass door and licked the air.
Charlie!
“What’s wrong with him?” Mr. Quigley asked.
“He wants outside.” Rob hurried to the dog and walked through a blast of cold air. He bent down and spoke softly, but it wasn’t aimed toward Barnaby. “I know you’re here. Please behave.”
A cold presence touched his cheek, and he covered it with his hand. Had she just kissed him?
“Why don’t you go play?” He opened the door and the icy air vanished as the dog rushed out.
Man, the day he and Bridget made love—and they would, he was certain—he’d make sure they were far enough away where his sister couldn’t find them. He shivered at the thought. Creepy.
Rob measured the coffee grounds and water and set the pot to brew. Bridget’s parents sat at the dinette table looking anxious.
“I’m sure she’ll be out soon.” The water was still running, though. How long did she stay in the shower?
“If she just got in, she’ll be a while,” her mother said. “I guess she’s okay if she can take a shower. Is she okay? Really?”
Rob sat at the table. “She’ll tell you she’s fine, but I think she still needs to take it easy. She got quite a bump on the head.”
“I still don’t understand what happened.”
“Well, that’s for Bridget to tell you, not me. But I would appreciate it if you could keep her inside today. She’s asked me to take her out, and I promised, but I’d feel better if I could postpone the trip. I don’t think she’s ready for a lot of activity. And we’ll be going to Kate’s tomorrow. Are you going?”
“She invited us, like she does every year, but we’ve never gone. It’s mostly for the kids. I think she invites us to be nice. I can keep Bridget in, if you think it’s best.”
“I do, Mrs. Quigley.”
“It’s Mona.”
Well, maybe he was getting somewhere after all if Bridget’s mother could actually smile at him.
She looked to her husband. “Well, Owen. Are you going to stay or go home?”
Owen looked at Rob. “You better hope Bridget never finds out what you just did. She may never forgive you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mona asked.
“It means I’m staying. Bridget and her mother don’t always see eye to eye when it comes to recuperating. Maybe I should spike her coffee.” Owen elbowed Rob in the ribs and chuckled.
“Why would you spike Bridget’s coffee?” Mona asked.
“Not Bridget’s. Yours. If she needs rest like Rob says, you need to calm down a few notches.”
Oh crap. What had he done? If Bridget ever found out, it could ruin what little leeway he’d made. Rob glanced outside. Barnaby was still playing, most likely with Charlie. God, he hoped so. The last thing he needed was Charlie blabbing about how he’d postponed them going to the Rialto site. And if she’d overheard and told Bridget, well, he’d deal with it. Her health was too important.
Bridget sat on the bleachers at the park behind Kate’s house. The baseball diamond lay in front of her. Or would that be softball diamond? Whatever, her view was excellent. Rob stood out there ready to play, wearing a Dayton Dragons baseball cap, a T-shirt indicating he belonged with the Cincinnati Reds and shorts that sported the finest legs she’d ever seen.
The plan to visit the construction site on Sunday had flown out the door after her parents walked through hers. Rob had stayed until she finished her shower, then left with Barnaby. And thus began the slowest day of the whole year. Her mother had refused to leave her alone and her father wouldn’t leave without her mother.
Rob and Kate got their wish. Bridget was well rested. All thanks to her parents.
“Hey, Bridge!” Tori waved, slowly stepping up on the wooden planks, wearing orange three-inch heels just asking to get caught in the holes. Any flying insect could zero in on the large orange-and-yellow flowers prominently displayed on her sleeveless dress, which she pulled up in order to step over the seats.
Leave it to the woman to overdress for a barbecue.
“How come you’re not playing?” Tori pointed behind her, in the general direction of the field.
Most of their cousins stood out there and Bridget wanted to be with them. Even though she walked without a limp and her head felt fine—provided no one touched it—Rob had practically forbidden her to play. Well, maybe forbidden was the wrong word. More like blackmailed, since he’d threatened not to take her back to the site if she even thought about playing. She was at his mercy. “Headache. What brings you here?”
Tori brushed the wooden seat before planting her butt. “The game, what else?”
“Since when did you like softball? You never watched before.”
“Brian’s friends were never here before.”
Brian’s friends or Rob? Of course, Tori had a point. Brian did have some pretty hunky friends. Bridget had never met them before, either. Kate didn’t have the barbecue last year because of the wedding and Brian wasn’t in the picture the year before.
Rob stood by the players’ bench, trying on several gloves. Bridget held back a sigh. She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to date, but maybe it was destiny. If she hadn’t been in a coma, she would have met him at the wedding. Or if she hadn’t fallen off her bike last Monday, she would have definitely met him today because this barbecue would have been a godsend away from her parents. Was she fighting a losing battle?
Still, it didn’t seem right. Her best friend had died because of her. How fair could it be for her life to go on happily?
“What have you done with your hair?” Tori asked. “You look like you just got out of bed.”
Bridget brushed a stray hair from her face. She wore her ponytail loose because pulling it tight had hurt her stitches. But even if she had worn it tight with every stray hair tucked, she still would have looked frumpy next to Tori and her immaculate do.
“And aren’t you hot in that getup? I think it’s already in the eighties.” Tori fanned her face.
Bridget’s long-sleeve white T-shirt was still dry, but her jeans were soaking in sweat. “I feel a summer cold coming on.”
“Uh-huh. Sure. You’re going to end up with heatstroke instead. Don’t you miss wearing summer clothes? I know I would.”
Bridget did miss her shorts and tank tops, but it was a small price to pay if it kept the questions and knowing stares at bay.
Tori shaded her eyes with one hand and looked out over the field.
“Which one appeals to you?” Bridget asked, fully expecting Tori to say one name in particular.