That Thing You Do (Whispering Bay Romance Book 1) (Volume 1) (23 page)

Do you hear that
? She silently mouthed to him.

He paused long enough to make her wonder if she truly was going crazy.
Hear what
? He mouthed back. But there was a momentary flicker in his eyes that gave him away.
Liar! He could hear it, too
!

“You know what,”
she said to Tom.

The rest of the table turned to look at her.
Woops.
She hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Please, Ms. Grant!” Madame Gloria said. “You’re breaking my concentration. I am the only one allowed to speak here.”

Come on baby, light my
—

“I know, and I’m sorry, but don’t you hear that?” Allie asked. She glanced around the table but all she saw was confusion
on their faces. Except for Tom, who shook his head at her as if to tell her
no
. But no what? No he couldn’t hear that (although she knew perfectly well that he could) or no she shouldn’t say anything to anyone else about it?

“Hear what?” Gloria demanded. “The only thing I hear is you talking.”

“You don’t hear the music?”

“What music?” Phoebe asked.

 “Sorry,” Allie muttered.
Oh lord, the music was actually getting louder now.

Come on baby, light my fire
.

 “Now, where was I before this latest interruption? Oh my. I’m sensing two spiritual entities, not just one! Two entities in
great
conflict. A struggle, you might say. A struggle going back and forth, a great flow of energy going in and out, in and out, as if…
hmmm
…well,
that
can’t be right.” Madame Gloria
cleared her throat.

“Two entities, huh? In and out?” Gus said.

Madame Gloria let out a long suffering sigh. “I should have brought a muzzle for you people.”

This was apparently all the permission Phoebe needed to speak again. “Two entities? Are you quite certain? I only picked up a masculine spirit.”

“
Two
entities,” Gloria repeated. “One male and one female.”

Gus
began chuckling.

Somewhere in the back of Allie’s mind she registered the sound of more gravel crunching but the music was beginning to drown out everything. Louder and louder until she thought her head might explode.

COME ON BABY, LIGHT MY FIRE
.

Oh, Lord, maybe she had a brain tumor. Or maybe Martians were invading the planet and using her as a conduit to get to other earthlings
or maybe—

COME ON BABY, LIGHT MY FIRE.

She had to stop it. She had to. Or she’d go crazy. But how? It was as if whatever was making the music in her head was urging her to do something. Or say something. Like when Tom admitted he’d heard the song
Help
in his mind and it had only ceased when he’d told her he’d stop the demolition.

Impulsively, she pushed herself up from the table.
“Okay! I admit it! Tom and I had sex last night.”

The music came to a screeching halt.

“Oh, thank God!” She placed her hands against the sides of her head. Beautiful, blissful peace! Her head belonged to her again.

“I knew it,” Gus said. He grinned and gave Tom a big thumbs up.

Madame Gloria pointed a finger at Phoebe. “How can I be expected to commune with the non-living
when my instructions to keep the building pure were deliberately disobeyed? I
thought
you were a professional.”

Phoebe kicked back her chair and stood. “I am a professional! And I can vouch that no one has stepped foot inside this building for over twenty-four hours.” She waved her hand at Tom. “Isn’t that right?”

Tom didn’t say anything.

“Right?” Phoebe persisted.

“Go
ahead,” Gloria said smugly. “Tell them.”

“It was an accident,” Allie blurted. “We didn’t mean to have sex. It just sort of happened.”

Phoebe looked incredulous. “You had sex
here
? Inside this building? When?”

“Um, last night,” Allie admitted.

Viola reached out to pat her on the arm. “Isn’t that lovely? Er, at least, I assume it was lovely. Was it?”

Everyone at the
table turned to look at Allie.

“It was…you know, nice.”

Tom muttered something under his breath that Allie didn’t catch.

Phoebe looked incredulous. “I specifically told you that the atmosphere was to be kept pure for tonight’s séance! What are you, people,
animals
?”

More gravel crunching. More giggling.

Madame Gloria threw her hands in the air. “Does anyone besides
me hear that?” she demanded.

“I hear it,” Gus said.

“Me too,” Roger chimed in.

“I think I know where it’s coming from.” Tom walked across the room and threw open the front door. Mimi, Pilar and the rest of the Bunco Babes stood huddled at the threshold. They looked a mixture of both surprised and elated at being caught eavesdropping on the séance.

“
Oops
.” Mimi said. She
looked at Allie and shrugged. “Sorry, I tried to talk them out of it but a séance was just too hard to resist.”

The women began filing into the building, talking at once and snapping pictures with their cell phones as if they had every perfect right to be there. Frida Hampton, the owner of The Bistro by the Beach held an empty margarita glass in her hand. “What have we missed?”

Kitty
Pappas took the glass from Frida’s hand and smiled apologetically. “Don’t worry, we have designated drivers.”

“This is a mockery!” Madame Gloria cried. “First the aura is desecrated by…by these two,” she pointed to Allie and Tom, “and their sexual shenanigans, and now we have séance crashers. I cannot be expected to work in this kind of environment!”

Allie felt a dozen pairs of eyes
on her, including Tom’s ex. What in all that was holy was Lauren Donalan doing here? “I can explain,” she said.

“Oh, no need to explain,” Lauren said. “We all know what sexual shenanigans are.” She didn’t seem upset. On the contrary. She seemed almost giddy. Must be the work of those super-secret margaritas Mimi was always bragging about.

Kitty glanced nervously around the room. “So,
how’s it going? Has the ghost showed up yet?”

“Not yet,” Allie muttered.

“Okay, ladies, show’s over,” Tom said, nodding his head toward the still open door.

“You’re kicking us out?” a short redhead asked, slurring her words. Hopefully not one of the designated drivers.

“You got it,” he said with the sort of smile any woman would find hard to resist. Especially a slightly
inebriated Bunco Babe.

“Party pooper,” Frida said, playfully sticking her tongue out at Tom.

“C’mon, girls,” Mimi said, “I think we should leave.” She threw Allie a meaningful look on her way out the door. A look that said,
we’ll talk later
.

Tom waited till the last woman had exited the room, then he firmly closed the door behind them. “All right, let’s start over.”

“Absolutely
not,” Madame Gloria said. “The conditions under which I’m expected to work have been ruined.”

Tom crossed his arms over his chest. “The conditions are not ruined. You claim to be a medium, so go ahead. Do your thing. Make me a believer.”

The second the words were out of his mouth, Allie cringed. Madame Gloria’s eyes glittered in triumph. “I knew you didn’t believe. No wonder I haven’t
been able to make contact with this ghost.”

“I thought you preferred the term non-living,” Tom said.

Madame Gloria shook her head as if she felt sorry for him. She pulled her bangles up her arms and made a grand departure, slamming the door on her way out.

Gus stood. “Well, I guess that’s it.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to get Madame Gloria?” Phoebe screeched
at Tom. “And
you
.” She turned to Allie. “Don’t ever call the Sunshine Ghost Society again. You’re officially on our blackball list.” She turned to run after Madame Gloria. “Wait! Come back! I had nothing to do with this!”

Viola shrugged sympathetically. “I think we should go,” she said to Gus.

“Right,” Gus said, looking disappointed. Then he winked. “At least we can report to Betty
that the world isn’t coming to an end.”

“I’ll go make sure Phoebe doesn’t hang herself,” Roger said, trying to follow Viola and Gus out the door.

“Hold on, mister,” Allie said.

Roger froze.

“Why did you lie about being Concerned Citizen?”

Those bushy eyebrows Allie had initially found distracting went up a notch. “Who says I’m lying?”

“Tell me exactly what you
love about my Perky the Duck story,” Allie said.

He put his hands up. “What’s not to love about it?”

“You’ve never read it, have you?”

Roger had the good manners to look shame-faced. “What gave me away?”

“Let’s just say you seem like the type of man who wouldn’t hide behind an anonymous letter. Plus, if you really had seen a ghost why not go to your sister the ghost hunter
in the first place? Why write a letter to a journalist you’ve never met? It didn’t make sense.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I never meant to mess with your story. It’s just…I wanted to be a part of it, I guess.” He glanced away. She could hear the confusion and regret in his voice and Allie had to fight the urge to reach out and hug him. Tom was right. Roger was lonely. This whole ghost thing
had been nothing more than an adventure for him.

Tom cleared his throat. “Maybe there’s something on the video that could help,” he suggested.  

The three of them watched the replay of the tape on the small camera screen. Allie kept her eye on the lookout for any of those white blobs, but all she saw was the seven of them holding hands while Madame Gloria tried to channel the ghost,
and of course, her big “confession” (oh, God, she needed to make sure Roger erased this
pronto
). Then there was the part where Mimi’s drunken Bunco group had come crashing through the door.

“Looks like something you’d see on that
America’s Funniest Videos
show,” Roger said, placing the camera equipment back into a bag. “Sorry that wasn’t more helpful.”

 Allie tried to squelch her disappointment,
but it was impossible to not feel defeated. This was it. No ghost story. No creepy séance to write about. Nothing to impress Ben or anyone else at
Florida
! magazine. Chris Dougal was going to win. And it was back to waiting tables at The Blue Monkey for Allison Grant.

W
ithout the rest of the
group, the building once again seemed dark and lonely. It was like Allie had come back full circle to find herself exactly where she’d been three nights ago.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you wanted,” Tom said.

“Are you?”

“You know I am. I wanted this ghost thing cleared up almost as much as you did.”

He was right. Allie couldn’t
blame him for tonight’s epic failure. Or Mimi’s Bunco group, either. She couldn’t blame anyone really, except herself. If only she’d kept her mouth shut, maybe Madame Gloria wouldn’t have stalked out. But Allie hadn’t been able to help herself. It was either admit to the sex or go crazy listening to
that music
. It had to mean something, didn’t it?

“The thing is,” Allie said, “I think Madame
Gloria could have helped.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Tom! She knew we’d had, you know,
sex.
Right here in this building. If she isn’t a medium, then she sure as heck is psychic. It’s like…she was reading my mind the entire time.”

“Allie, it’s not too hard to figure out that we’ve been together. I bet everyone else here knew, too.”

“How?”

“They’ve got eyes, don’t they?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The way you’ve been looking at me all night? It’s a miracle you didn’t leap over the table.”

“Looking at you? I had my eyes closed most of the time!”

“Okay. So maybe it was the way I was looking at you.” He sounded absolutely serious. And sexy as hell.

“That sounds…painful. Maybe you should get that looked at.”

He stepped toward
her, close enough that she could reach out and touch him. If she wanted to. “It’s excruciating,” he said. “Got any suggestions?”

Flirting with Tom Donalan was dangerous. If she didn’t want a repeat of last night then she’d better put a stop to it now. The problem was, despite what she’d told Jen earlier, she was beginning to think a repeat of last night was exactly what she needed. “Nope.
No suggestions. So, what about the music?”

He took the change of topic gracefully. “What music?”

“Don’t play games with me, Tom. You know what I’m talking about.”

He blinked. “
Light My Fire
.”

“Yes! You heard it, too?”

He took another step. He was close enough now that she could smell his aftershave. It was different from his regular scent. This one was darker…spicier.
Or was she simply smelling
him
?

“Not exactly. The song just kind of popped into my head.” He looked at her strangely. “You heard actual music?”

She nodded. “That’s why I went all Jerry Springer on Madame Gloria. It’s like, the music compelled me to admit to everyone what we’d done. Kind of like when you heard the Beatles’
Help
in your head and it didn’t go away until you cancelled
the demolition. Don’t you see? It’s the ghost. It’s trying to communicate with us.”

“Allie,” he said gently, “We’ve already gone through this. Do you know how crazy that sounds? Besides, I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”

“How else can you explain it?” She sighed. “I’m one step away from Chattahoochee, aren’t I?”

“What? The psych hospital? Nah, more like a couple of steps.”

She grinned. This story might be turning her into a nut job, but at least she could still laugh at herself. That had to mean she wasn’t really going crazy, right?

“You want to know what I think?” Tom said. “I think for some reason you got that song stuck in your head and somehow, you made me think of it, too. Not because of some ghost or some non-living spirit, but because, hell, I
don’t know. Maybe we just think alike. Or maybe we just really get each other.” He shoved a hand roughly through his hair, like that last omission had left him vulnerable and he’d needed to do something physical to shake it off.

“Well, we certainly used to. Get each other, I mean.”

His gaze darted straight to hers. Dark and intense and probing. Was he about to bring up the past again?
He seemed intent on hashing out the events of twelve years ago, but right now Allie felt too emotionally worn out for a walk down memory lane. What she needed was some time away from this story. Away from this building. Away from thinking about Mimi and Zeke and their marital problems. What she needed was…standing right in front of her.

“If you want we can stay the night here again. Just
in case anything happens,” he offered.

“Why are you being so nice to me? I’ve done nothing but wreak havoc on your life since I’ve hit town.”

“Don’t you know why?” He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I could be a lot nicer, Allie. If you let me.”

Her heart nearly catapulted out of her chest. She didn’t have to ask what that meant. God,
she was weak. Because, yes, she was going to let him be
very nice
to her.

*~*~*

T
om opened the front
door to his house and stepped aside to let Allie enter. It was unnerving having her here. He wasn’t worried what she’d think of the place. It wasn’t fancy, but he was a stickler for keeping things clean. It just felt like a lot was riding on tonight. Like he’d placed all his chips into
a single pot. All it would take was the one wrong draw of the cards and he’d be out of the game permanently.

“You sure you don’t want to stay the night at the senior center?” he asked.
Again
.

“Positive,” she said.
Again
. “You sure you want to invite me inside?”

“More than positive. I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

She gave him a shaky smile. “Ask me that in the
morning.”

Come tomorrow morning he’d make sure neither of them had any regrets, or any doubts about where this relationship was headed. Somehow, the fates had seen clear to giving him a second chance. He wasn’t about to screw it up.

He flipped on the living room light, then made his way to the tiny kitchen in the back of the house. “Want a drink?”

“Just some water, thanks.” She
looked like she needed something a lot stronger but he filled two glasses with ice water and handed her one. She gulped it down then laid her empty glass on the counter.

“How about you show me your place?” she said in an overly bright voice.

“Sure.” He led her back out to the living room, then he showed her his den, the room where he spent most of his waking time. She looked around
the walls, at his diploma from the University of Florida nestled in the brown frame with the orange and blue trim, at the photos of the projects he’d worked on. She seemed impressed, but he hadn’t shown her his work to impress her. He wanted to take her mind off that damn story. She was brilliant. Couldn’t she see that?

 Next stop was Henry’s room. It probably wasn’t much different from
Cameron’s. Dark beige walls, a double bed, chest of drawers, and a desk. The walls were covered in sports posters. Mainly football and soccer, since those were the sports he was into. Tom had tried to steer Henry toward baseball, but he wasn’t interested.

“Does Henry spend a lot of time here?” she asked.

“As much time as I can get with him.”

 She smiled again, only this time
the smile came easier. “Can I just say how weird all this is? In a good way, though.”

He didn’t respond, but he knew what she meant. Having her in his home was like opening up his life to her. Showing him all those parts of himself that she hadn’t been there for. But she was here now.

They came to the end of the hallway, to his bedroom, and Tom was grateful that he’d taken the time
to make his bed this morning.

She looked nervous again. Hell. He was nervous, too. He didn’t want this to seem forced. Or unnatural. He took her hand and led her to the bed. “It’s been a long day. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Honest?”

“What? You think I can’t sleep next to you without mauling you?”

She yawned. “I wouldn’t mind a good mauling, but…” She shrugged. “Maybe later?
It’s been a strange night.”

He could wait till later. He could wait a long time. As long as she stayed right here next to him.

Still keeping his jeans on, he toed off his shoes then drew back the comforter and slid in between the sheets. Allie wasn’t as thoughtful. She took off her boots and unbuttoned her jeans, letting them drop to the floor. Which left her in nothing but a tank
top and a piece of black string that must have been her idea of underwear.

He was a prince, no doubt about it.

Might as well go all the way and aim for sainthood.

He put his arm around her and drew her close, letting her snuggle up against him. If she needed warm and cuddly then that’s what he’d give her. She sighed and for the first time tonight he could feel her relax.

He tucked the top of her head beneath his chin bringing them closer. Her hair smelled like expensive shampoo and her skin…it was both soft and firm at the same time and all he could think about was how good it would feel to slide inside her.

Just a few well-placed kisses and she’d let him. He knew that. But he wasn’t going to blow whatever it was they had going. Right now, despite the fact
that he was so hard it hurt, there wasn’t anything on earth he’d rather do than hold Allie in his arms.

*~*~*

T
he room was dark
and unfamiliar. How long had she been asleep? She glanced at the soft green glow of a bedside clock. It was three in the morning. She shifted slightly and felt Tom’s arms tighten around her. She’d fallen asleep in his bed, wearing nothing but a top and her
raunchiest panties. And he hadn’t made a move. He’d wanted to. She knew that. Just like he had to know that she would have made a move right back. But she appreciated his restraint.

The night had started off terrible, that scene in the parking lot, sitting inside his truck. He’d been angry with her, but during the séance something had shifted. He’d put aside his own feelings to be there
for her when she’d needed him most. He’d argued with Madame Gloria for her sake. Not because he believed the séance would actually work, but because he wanted her to get her story.

As incredible as it seemed, they were right back to where they were twelve years ago. Somehow, in the short span of just four days he’d become her best friend all over again. A best friend she wanted to have sex
with, that is.

She pressed her thigh against his jean clad leg.

“If you’re trying to kill me, you’re doing a damn good job,” Tom muttered.

She leaned up on her elbow. “Oh, did I wake you up?” she asked, trying to sound innocent.

He laughed. “Are you kidding? I haven’t slept a wink since you’ve hit town.”

“Aren’t you exaggerating a little?”

“I wish.”

“Then…maybe
I can help you with that.” She bent down and kissed him on the mouth, slow and soft. He didn’t deepen the kiss although she sensed that was exactly what he wanted. She broke it off and straddled his waist, then drew off her tank top and bra, leaving her in nothing but the black lace panties.

He looked at her as if she were the most beautiful thing on earth. “It’s not enough that I can’t
sleep, now you want me to have a heart attack.”

She smiled. Tom was hers. To do with whatever she wanted. It was like all the walls between them came crashing down and just for tonight she was the old Allie and he was the old Tom and the Night of the Great Humiliation had never happened.

She leaned down to kiss him on the chest, causing him to suck in his breath. “Maybe just a little
heart attack,” she joked. She slid down his body, positioning herself to place a kiss near the top of his belly button. His hands clamped down on her shoulders, but whether it was to urge her on or stop her, she wasn’t sure. After a few seconds he let his arms drop. “I give up. Go ahead, kill me. But make it fast.”

“Sorry,” she teased. “But I think you should know that I intend to go very
slow.”

He closed his eyes and groaned and Allie didn’t know whether she was more turned on, or just simply…happy. Or maybe both.

She unbuttoned his jeans, freeing his erection. He raised his hips and pushed both his jeans and boxer shorts off in one frenzied motion. She kept her promise. This wasn’t a race. It was the exact opposite. She took him into her mouth then proceeded to lick
and suck like she had all the time in the world, and he took it like a champ. Until he couldn’t anymore.

“My turn,” he said. Then he flipped her over and now she was the one in the vulnerable position. Only she didn’t feel vulnerable. She felt the exact opposite. A power she’d never imagined before surged through her veins, making her bold. She laughed and stretched her arms over her head.
“Go ahead. But I bet I can last longer than you did.”

He chuckled softly. “You’re on.” His warm breath left goose bumps over her skin. He hooked his thumbs in the side of her panties and slid them down, studied them a moment with a mixture of confusion and appreciation, then tossed them somewhere over his shoulder. Then he lowered his mouth between her thighs.

Oh. My. God.

The
bastard. She should have known he’d try to show her up. If she’d gone slow, then he was going slower. And in between that delicious thing he was doing with his tongue she could hear him whisper against her skin. All the things he’d begun to say to her last night that she hadn’t wanted to hear. How beautiful she was. How much he’d always wanted her.