Jade's Spirit (Blue Collar Boyfriends Book 2) (16 page)

“Oh, I’ve got a rule. We haven’t broken it yet.”

“What do you mean, yet?” she asked, offended.

“Hey, hey, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s the truth. We haven’t broken my rule yet. That’s all. It’s a statement about the present with no presumptions about the future.”

She harrumphed, but accepted he hadn’t meant to imply it was just a matter of time before she lost control and humped him senseless. She had to give it to him. He was good at calming her down when she got riled up. It was one of the reasons she liked him so much, one of the reasons she was willing to go along with this no-sex thing in order to be with him.

“Okay. So, what’s the rule?” she asked.

“Simple. No coming.”

She blinked. “That’s not much of a rule. That would mean sex is fine as long as you stop before you come. Having an orgasm doesn’t make you not a virgin anymore, intercourse does. Please, tell me you’ve had Sex Ed.”

“Uh, yeah. I know how it works, thank you very much. And my brilliant rule you so hastily dismiss has kept me honest for ten years, now. See, here’s what’s so great about it.” He sat up straighter and gestured as he explained. “Anything that leads to coming is out of the question. I know what would push me too far, and I avoid those things. No blow jobs, hand jobs, dry humping. You get the idea. No coming is like a single rule that encompasses a lot of little things, like the no-shirt-no-shoes signs in restaurants.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but what does no-shirt-no-shoes have to do with orgasms?”

“You know, like, you can’t go in the restaurant wearing just a shirt and some shoes and expect service. Pants is kind of implied. And you can’t go in fully dressed, place your order, and then start taking off your clothes. There’s lots of little rules that go into that one, easy-to-remember rule.”

“You’re a freak.”

“You know you love it.”

She rolled her eyes, but inside she delighted in his quirkiness. He was kind of a big geek in some ways, a very sexy geek. But she had a good head on her shoulders, too, and it had detected a flaw in his “brilliant rule.”

“Well, your simple, easy-to-remember rule puts
you
totally in control. Which doesn’t work very well if you take a girl past
her
point of no return. This girl’s going to need more rules than ‘no coming’. I know myself, and I know I’d better keep my clothes on around you. And I shouldn’t touch you you-know-where.” She looked pointedly at his crotch. “And I don’t think you should put that thing in the vicinity of my you-know-where either, whether there are clothes involved or not.”

“Do all exotic dancers talk so dirty? Ooh, baby, put your you-know-what in my you-know-where.”

She punched him in the arm, and she’d never punched like a girl.

“Ow!”

“Fine, smartass. I won’t touch your dick, and you don’t touch my pussy. Happy?”

“Very.” He put an arm around her and jostled her good-naturedly.

“I’m serious. I’m not used to restraint. You’re very tempting just standing there. I don’t know if you understand how little it would take for me to mess up this little arrangement we have. Just be careful with me, okay?”

He smoothed her hair down her neck and shoulders then kissed the top of her head. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’ve been told I’m a little flirtatious.”

“That’s like saying the Pope’s a little Catholic.” Her voice slurred a little as she relaxed into his petting. She could get used to this whole cuddling thing. Considering how many guys she’d dated, it startled her to look back on her life and realize no one had ever just held her like this with no expectation of more. Clearing her throat, she said, “How have you lasted this long? How old are you, anyway?”

He stilled his stroking and brought his hand to rest on her arm. His palm warmed her skin through her hoodie. “Twenty-seven.”

“Jesus, a twenty-seven-year-old virgin.”

“I’d rather you not say that.”

“What, virgin?”

She felt his cheek move in a smile. “No, that’s fair enough. Jesus. I care a lot about him, so if you could try not to say his name like that, I’d appreciate it.”

She pulled back to study him. It wasn’t often sexy, confident Emmett looked anything less than sexy and confident, but this was one of those times. She pecked him on the cheek. “I can do that.”

He turned to meet her lips with his in a quick, chaste kiss.

“Seriously, how have you done it?” she asked in quiet wonder. Her body hummed with desire even from this innocent contact.

“I really don’t know.” He shook his head in disbelief then opened his mouth to say something, but she had a feeling he hadn’t planned on what came out next.

“Jesus Christ! What the fuck is that?” He shot off the bed and backed himself into her dresser hard enough to knock down the bottles of perfume with an unholy clatter of glass on mirrored glass. His face drained of color. His gaze was riveted on the open doorway.

She looked into the hall, not seeing anything. But the room felt several degrees cooler all of a sudden. “What? What did you see?” She had a sickening feeling she knew exactly what he’d just seen.

Emmett blinked. His gaze searched the hall before darting to her. “I think I just saw your spider.”

Chapter 14

“What did you see?” she asked again, her voice shaking.

Emmett wiped his free hand over his face. He looked as freaked as she felt. “A black shape, like a person, but not. It was there, and then it was gone.”

Yup. That sounded like her spider. Judging by the way his tan had yielded to a grayish pallor, she didn’t think he wanted to step on it for her.

His eyes kept flicking to the hall, but for the most part, he was looking at her. “I can’t believe I said that. I don’t mind a little cussing now and then, but I’ve never taken the Lord’s name in vain like that before. It just kind of came out.”

She stepped off the bed and went to him. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to say it. I’ve probably been a bad influence on you. Hey, hey.” She gripped his chin to get him to look just at her. “It’s just a shadow. It can’t hurt you.”

He studied her for a few seconds, his face grave. “It wasn’t a shadow,” he said quietly, like he didn’t want anyone but her to hear. “It was solid. It had wings.”

Her heart plummeted into her stomach.
Wings? Shit.
Maybe she’d made things worse instead of better with the bundles of herbs.

“Pack a bag,” he said. “You’re staying with me ’til we figure this out.”

“Really?” Relief washed over her to know she wasn’t crazy and she didn’t have to face this ghost or whatever it was alone.

Emmett tugged her hand, and her relief gave way to urgency. “Move. Pack a bag. We’re getting out of here, now.”

“Okay.” She nodded, flustered. Pawing through the dresser, she scraped up a few changes of clothes and tossed them in a carry-on sized piece of luggage. Emmett stood between her and the hall, keeping watch.

“Um, why are you so freaked out?” she asked him.

“Aren’t you?” He wheeled on her. “That thing was pure evil. How many times have you seen it?”

Goosebumps lifted on her arms when he said the word
evil.

“Just a few times. Well, kind of. I mean, what you just described is different from what I’ve seen, but whatever it is, it’s never hurt me or anything. It just...watches me.”
And possibly messes with my dreams.
Though after seeing Mr. Shadow in her bathroom mirror, she doubted he would do something like that.

He blinked. “It’s never threatened you?”

“What do you mean? How does a shadow threaten?”

He ran a hand over his face again. “That thing,” he pointed at the hall, “had red eyes. And sharp teeth.” His eyes showed too much white. “It stood there, and I was seeing it, and thinking, that can’t be. Then it reached out an arm and crooked its finger at me.” He demonstrated the beckoning gesture and ice shot down her spine. “It wanted me to come to it.”

She had seen that gesture before, but from Mr. Shadow. Despite the similarities, the more Emmett described what he’d seen, the more she doubted it was her Mr. Shadow. She’d never seen anything as frightening-sounding as what Emmett saw. Or had she?

She had a foggy memory of sharp teeth descending toward her throat, of sharp pain and even sharper betrayal.

Emmett closed a hand over her wrist, shattering the memory. “Let’s move.” His eyes were wild. He glanced at the hall every few seconds. “I want out of this house, but I’m not going without you. Hurry up.”

She hurried, no easy feat with his iron grip on her arm. Dragging him along, she took the suitcase to the bathroom and threw in her makeup, hair dryer, and toiletries.

“Let me get my laptop,” she said as he followed her down the stairs. At the bottom, she darted into the living room while Emmett towed her suitcase to the door.

“Hurry,” he said, with his hand on the knob.

She did, scooping up her laptop and charger in a haphazard pile of cords. “Oh! The coffee.”

“I’ll buy you a coffee. Let’s just go.”

“Jeez, Emmett.” She strode past him with the laptop under one arm, heading for the kitchen. She wasn’t going to let her house burn down because she was in too much of a hurry to turn off the warming plate.

As she rounded the arched entry into the kitchen, he grabbed her arm.

“I’m just going to turn off the pot. It’ll only take a second.” She turned to glare at him.

Emmett was all the way at the other end of the hall, straddling the threshold with one foot inside and one on the sun porch. He was too far away to have touched her.

“Yeah. That’s a good idea,” he said. “Go ahead. Don’t want to start a fire or anything.”

She swallowed and nodded, suddenly not caring so much about leaving the warming plate on. But Emmett was freaked enough. She didn’t want to add to it by telling him what she’d just felt. Drawing on her courage, she hurried into the kitchen to do what she said.

When she was halfway to the coffeemaker, she heard Emmett say, “Oh, shit! Leave her alone, you son of a bitch!”

Several things happened at once. Emmett’s boots thundered toward the kitchen while the coffee pot exploded. Hot coffee and shards of glass rained down on her. As she tried to run from the kitchen, her feet got tangled in the cord from her laptop charger. She started to fall.

She braced herself to hit the floor, but the blow never came. Instead, blackness and cold enveloped her. It felt like someone wrapped her in an icy blanket and laid her down gently on the linoleum.

The darkness peeled away from her and attached itself to Emmett as he burst into the kitchen. He thrashed against the black mass as it took the form of a man with red eyes and enormous bat wings. The leathery appendages fanned up and out to brush the ceiling and stretch the entire length of the kitchen.

Fear tried to steal her breath, but she refused to let it while Emmett was in danger. She yelled, “Let him go! Get off!” She kicked against the cord tangled around her ankles. The second she was free, she surged to her feet and threw herself at the monster’s back. She wasn’t about to let whatever was haunting her house hurt her boyfriend.

Her fingers sank into the wings without doing any damage, as if the monster was nothing but shadows and cobwebs.

It surrounded Emmett, oblivious to her efforts. She screamed in frustration.

Emmett’s voice rushed out, low and frantic. “Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name...” He was praying.

Suddenly, the mass dissolved into mist, turning from black to white. Then it disappeared.

She fell into Emmett’s arms.

He turned her around, aiming her toward the front door. Together, they ran, their shoes crunching on shards of glass.

“Where are your keys?” he shouted as he snagged her bag at the threshold.

“What? I don’t know!” She couldn’t process what had just happened. It was too much, just, too much.

Emmett directed her down the front walk at a good clip. Her luggage rattled over the bricks behind them. When they reached her car, he gripped her shoulders. “Your keys, Jade. Give ’em to me. I’m driving you to my place.”

Keys. She could think about keys. What had she done with them?

Oh! Emmett had them last; she’d tossed them to him on the walk. She remembered seeing him put them down in the kitchen.

“They’re inside,” she said.

“Damn it. Come on.” He pointed her toward the street sweeper.

She needed no more encouragement than him opening the door to scramble up into the cab. The driver’s side was on the curb side. To allow Emmett in, she had to finagle her legs over the gearshift.

He barely allowed her time to evacuate the driver’s seat before he planted his butt and slammed the door. His hands were shaking so hard it took him two tries to start the engine.

The truck rumbled to life. The droning whish of its brooms quieted with a flick of a switch. He cursed as he backed up then steered around her Jetta. He floored it and they vibrated away from her house, her goddamned haunted house.