Double Dating with the Dead (20 page)

T
rent watched Paige, Selena and Tye from the corner of his eye as they traipsed up and down the stairs, in and out of the foyer where he sat with his black book taking notes. They'd wanted him to join in, but he'd declined. Whether he liked it or not, he had to take notes about Selena.

He glanced down. Two lines. That was all he'd written in the last two hours. Two lines and he'd mentioned only how cute she looked today.

And she did.

Lord, her pink shorts were so short and her legs were so long. Visions filled his mind of how they'd wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper and deeper.

He struggled to take a breath—finally did. He might look relaxed sitting in the chair, but his body was so tight if anyone said boo, he'd probably crack into tiny pieces.

That was what Selena did to him.

Man, he couldn't go on like this. He tried to concentrate on how Celeste had conned him. It just didn't work like it used to. Celeste's memory was fading. He could barely remember what she looked like.

Tye came into the room again. “You glued to that chair or what?”

He was right. Writing about Selena was going nowhere. He might as well give up for now.

“Come on, Selena suggested we look around outside.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For bones?” He closed his black book and laid it to the side.

“Yeah.” Tye frowned. “You know I don't really believe in that sort of thing.” He quickly looked around to make sure he wasn't overheard, then cast a cocky grin toward Trent. “But Paige is damn easy on the eyes.”

Figured. He'd wondered about Tye's enthusiasm. He should've known Paige would somehow fit into the picture.

He glanced at the blank page, knowing it probably wouldn't get filled today. His elusive muse was being difficult.

It wasn't as if he had anything better to do. He came to his feet. “I was hoping you'd find something by now so this nonsense would stop.”

“No skeletons yet, but it's fun watching them search—all that stretching and bending, you know.”

“You're sick.”

Tye's smile was a little dreamy. “Nope, I just love women.”

They walked toward the back of the hotel.

“How they move,” he continued. “The gentle sway of their hips.”

“You going to start writing poetry or something?” Trent asked.

Tye ignored him, apparently still lost in his fantasy. “The look of ecstasy on a woman's face when the first wave of an orgasm washes over her.”

Okay, so maybe Trent couldn't fault him for his way of thinking. He remembered the way Selena had looked.

Crap! That was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. He cleared his mind. “Where are they, anyway?”

“Upstairs.”

Good, putting a little distance between them might not be a bad idea since all he could think about was sex with Selena. And in the future, he had to quit acting like a monk when he was in the middle of a book, too much of a buildup of testosterone. First woman who walked past him made him want to pounce.

Correction, he
had
pounced.

They stepped outside and into the jungle. At least that was what it looked like.

Tye paused at the bottom of the steps. “We could always say we did, and don't,” he suggested.

Little brother didn't look quite so enthusiastic anymore. Not that he could blame him. He was having a few misgivings right now.

His gaze scanned the yard. What creatures were hiding beneath the tall weeds or the overgrown bushes that hadn't been trimmed back in years?

But then he caught a patch of blue, and the backyard didn't look quite so uninviting.

The flowers Matilda had picked, the same ones that were on the kitchen table.

Still, he'd tell her it might not be a good idea to wander around behind the hotel. There could be snakes or she might twist an ankle.

Hiram was probably older and apparently didn't get out much since Trent had never seen him. If she fell after they left, she could lie out here for days. No, he'd tell her it was too dangerous to pick flowers or anything else back here.

Tye stepped off the porch. Trent cautiously followed.

“There's a path.” The stone path wound around and disappeared. Trent had to admit he was a little curious to see what was out there.

“This would've been great when we were kids,” Tye said.

“How so?”

“Look at all the places we could've hidden.”

“No thanks.”

Tye glanced over his shoulder, then continued forward. Trent felt a moment of regret. He and Tye had drifted apart over the years. He couldn't even remember the last time they'd gone anywhere together.

Growing up, they'd been best friends. His little brother had been a pain in the ass, but there'd been a bond. They'd changed.

No, he'd changed.

And he had to be the one to make it right again.

“What about us going to a few games? Football season will be starting soon.”

For a moment, he wondered if Tye had heard him.

“Yeah, I'd like that. It's been a long time since we did anything together.”

“Too long.”

Something crunched beneath Tye's foot. Trent grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Careful, little brother.”

“What is it?”

Trent looked at the rotting piece of plywood, then bent and raised one corner. The smell that rose up gagged him.

“I think it's a well.” He dropped the board back in place. “The cover has just about had it, though. I'll let the city know so they can fix it.”

“There's a gazebo over there.” Tye pointed. “We can check it out and then go back inside.”

“Sounds good.”

 

No bones today, either. Selena was beginning to wonder if Dixie and Wesley were having fun at their expense again. She certainly wouldn't put it past them.

On the other hand, what if they couldn't cross over until the bones were found? Major guilt trip if she could help them and didn't. Major pissed off if they were only having fun because they didn't have anything better to do.

Paige had left, as well as Tye. Trent was at the store and she was bored. She could meditate. No, she hadn't been able to concentrate since making love with Trent.

She hugged her middle and sighed.

Meditation had taken on a whole new meaning. She had only one thing on her mind. Like the way his hands had roamed over her naked body. Oh, God, what about when he'd poured the wine on her? Damn, every time she had a glass of wine she'd remember. He'd given a whole new meaning to the term wine tasting.

Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

She wandered into the foyer where Trent had spent part of the day. For just a moment she closed her eyes and inhaled. His scent lingered, drawing her in.

Maybe they wouldn't wait until tonight.

She sat in the chair he'd used. This was large enough, cushy enough, that they could just make love right here. She squeezed her thighs together and could almost feel him buried inside her.

I'm so bad
.

She smiled and laid her head on the arm of the chair, bringing her feet up and drawing them beneath her, and closed her eyes.

When Trent returned, they would have hot, get-down-and-dirty sex. Her body ached with need. If she didn't stop thinking about sex, she was going to implode.

She opened her eyes. For a moment she stared at the books stacked on the small table. It took her a second to recognize the one in the middle of all the others.

Trent's black book.

Oh, this wasn't good. She bit her bottom lip.
Don't even think about it.

Basically, Selena had good values. She didn't steal. Once, she'd forgotten to pay for a package of gum, and she made a trip all the way back to the store to give the clerk the money.

And she didn't curse. At least, not often.

Occasionally, she had a glass of wine and sometimes a frozen margarita, but she wasn't a drunk. Getting plastered at her cousin Zelda's wedding shower didn't really count.

Tentatively, she reached out and brushed her fingers down the spine of Trent's book. Leather. Nice. She nudged it just a little, and it fell to the floor, along with two more books.

“Oops.”

Leaning over the side of the chair, she picked them all up, but put only two of them back, then glanced out the window. The coast was clear, not that she wouldn't hear him when he drove up.

“No, I'm not going to look inside.”

She fanned the pages, seeing that he'd written quite a lot, but she didn't read any of the words. She certainly wouldn't want anyone prying into her diary or notes. She firmly closed the book and started to set it back where she'd gotten it, but paused at the last second.

There had been that one time she'd sneaked a look inside Paige's diary. She'd practically saved her cousin's life. If not for her, Paige would have let that horrible new boy, Eric, kiss her all because he'd worn a leather jacket to school.

What was it about men and leather?

But Selena had his number from the very start. When she overheard him bragging to some other boys that he would have kissed every girl in the senior class by the end of the week, well, she'd warned Paige in the nick of time. Saved her from being the object of humor.

Maybe she'd read just a paragraph or two. What could be the harm?

She settled back into the chair and opened the book.

First impression: Miss James is cute and very determined.

She smiled. So he thought she was cute. Trent was off to a good start earning points with her. She read further.

I wonder if she actually believes what she writes in her columns. Up close, she doesn't look the type who would be out to make a buck, but one can never be too sure.

Cute and she didn't look like someone who would take advantage of anyone. That was okay, but she wasn't too sure of his remark about wondering if she actually believed in what she wrote. She continued reading.

Her opinion of Trent dropped rapidly after the first page.

Several pages later, she slammed the book shut and raised it above her head. Just before letting it fly across the room, she took a deep breath and returned it back to its resting place.

How could he? How could he!

She jumped to her feet and began to pace across the foyer. It was bad enough that he believed she was ripping off the public, but to be gathering information so he could write an exposé about her? That was so low.

And to think she'd had sex with him. He was probably going to write about that, too.

She reached into her pocket and flipped open her cell phone, hitting speed dial. Paige answered after one ring.

“I need a hex that will knock Trent into tomorrow.”

“What'd he do? Y'all seemed to be getting along okay before I left.”

“He left his black book out. You know, the one I was telling you about. The one he's always scribbling in.”

“And you snooped?”

Selena suddenly had a bad taste in her mouth. When Paige said the words out loud it made her feel kind of…well, bad. It still didn't change the fact he'd been researching her like a bugologist.

She squared her shoulders. “Yeah, I snooped.”

“Good for you. So what's he been writing?”

She plopped down in the chair and crossed her legs. “He thinks I'm crazy, and he's going to write a book about how I'm conning the public. It's not enough that he wants to ruin my career. No, he wants to tell the world I'm up to no good.”

And that was what rubbed her raw. She'd thought they were becoming friends. That he might be a little open to her beliefs. No, that wasn't the case at all. He'd been dissecting her. Everything between them had meant absolutely nothing to him.

So who was conning whom?

Damn it, she only wished it didn't have to hurt so much.

“That's so low,” Paige said. “What are you going to do? I mean, I can put a hex on him, but we both know my hexes have a tendency to go just a little awry sometimes.”

She had a point. Suddenly, Selena knew exactly what she had to do. “I have a better idea. He thinks I'm crazy? Okay, I'll give him crazy.”

“I'd hate to be in his shoes,” Paige mumbled, but Selena was no longer listening. She said a quick goodbye and closed her cell phone.

Trent Sanders was so going to regret crossing her, and it didn't take psychic powers to figure that one out.

T
rent pulled to a stop in front of the hotel. Tye had left before him. Paige's car was gone, so apparently she'd left. It was just him and Selena.

Strange that he almost felt as if he were coming home. He liked the idea that Selena was inside waiting for him.

His gut clenched. He'd seen the look in her eyes before he'd left. Her gaze had lingered for just a second longer than it needed to, then slowly lowered. When she'd looked up, her desire was unmistakable.

Yeah, she wanted him. She wanted his body. They were going to have hot sex. The kind that got nasty.

If Paige hadn't been there, he would've been having hot sex right now. He'd left them with a mumbled excuse about having to run to the store. It was either that or he might have gotten rude and asked Paige to leave, and he doubted Selena would've appreciated his gesture.

Having sex with Selena was going to be even better than the last time, though. Besides grabbing a dozen condoms, he'd picked up a bottle of wine, some cheese and crackers. He planned on making them a little picnic in the middle of the floor—just them and the candlelight and as naked as the day they were born.

And for dessert. Chocolate syrup and strawberries. He planned to drizzle the syrup over her body, then drag the strawberries through the chocolate.

He sucked in a deep breath as he imagined her body arching, her nipples tight little nubs begging for his mouth. Her legs spreading in invitation for him to look, to touch…to bury himself inside her hot little body.

Damn, now he'd be walking inside the hotel with a major hard-on.

Yeah, right. As if she didn't already know he wanted her. No, they
both
had sex on the brain.

He killed the engine and climbed out of the car.

His mouth was dry. He hadn't been this anxious on his first date. Selena had certainly turned him inside out. Which reminded him, he'd call his agent tomorrow and tell him to go screw himself. He wasn't going to write any book about Selena.

He grimaced.

There was still the matter of what would happen when Selena lost the challenge. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

The foyer light was on, but no Selena. He shifted his sack and headed for the kitchen. She was probably in there. He couldn't wait to see her.

He paused in the doorway when he saw her at the table. Even from this angle, with her back toward him, she looked pretty darn tempting, and he wanted her in the worst kind of way.

A slow grin curved his lips.

Apparently, she wanted him just as bad. She'd lit the candles. There was a circle of them on the table and a couple on the counter casting an eerie glow about the room. She hummed softly to herself, but he didn't recognize the melody. It still sounded sweet coming from her.

She began to sway to the music. “Spirits of the dead, I invoke your presence. Come to me,” she spoke in a raspy voice that was like running sandpaper over bare skin, then raised a knife above her head with both hands.

He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat.

“Slice through the barriers of Trent's mind and free his soul that he can see clearly.” She took the knife in one hand and made a slicing motion.

He took a step back. Sweat beaded his brow. It was getting damned hot.

This wasn't his Selena. She was possessed. Not that he believed in possession, either. But something…scary had taken over her body. Hadn't he said all along there was a good possibility she might be crazy? All his fears were finally revealed.

Her back stiffened. “Open him up to the reality of the afterlife!” she intoned in a voice that cracked like a whip.

He eased out of the room and hurried down the hallway and up the stairs. He didn't breathe easy until he was in his room with the door firmly shut.

This was just great. Just frigging great! He dumped the sack on the bed and planted his hands on his hips. What the hell had happened between the time he'd left to go to the store and now?

Looking for those bones had warped her mind. Yeah, that was it. Staying in this hotel and her crazy mother putting all kinds of ideas into Selena's head. Angela even had his mother thinking crazy thoughts.

He drew in a deep breath, arms dropping to his sides, shoulders slumped in defeat.

It wasn't any of those things. He knew it, but didn't want to admit the truth. He'd begun to care for Selena. Now this. What the hell was he going to do?

He snorted. The first woman he'd cared for in a long time and she was crazy…ready to do him bodily harm.

Did that tell him anything about his love life? The first woman he made love to in months and she wanted to kill him.

He glanced at the door. Exactly how safe was he? The lock was flimsy at best. A vision filled his mind of Selena slipping into his room, a gleaming knife tucked close to her body.

Ah, damn, what had he gotten himself into when he'd done the television interview and said Selena was delusional? Stupid!

He reached for his cell phone and quickly called Tye. It rang once, twice.

Answer!

“Did you know that you have the worst timing? I'm with someone.”

“You're always with someone, so that's nothing new. Listen, I think Selena has gone off the deep end.”

“The deep end?”

“Yeah, I think she wants to kill me.”

Tye chuckled. “She wouldn't be the first.”

Trent ran his hand through his hair. “It's not funny.”

“You're serious?”

“Why the hell do you think I'm calling?”

“I can't see it.” The humor left Tye's voice. “From the little I was around her today, she didn't strike me as being even a little crazy. Are you sure she's not pulling your leg? That would be a lot more plausible.”

What he'd seen in the kitchen hadn't been plausible. No way, no how. Selena had acted like an escapee from an institution that housed the criminally insane.

“She might be trying to scare you away. Did you think about that? If you run, she wins.”

He opened his mouth, then snapped it closed.

That had to be it. But why had he seen desire in her eyes before he'd left? He knew damn well she'd wanted him as much…

Paige!

Her cousin had probably reminded her of why Selena was at the hotel. Why else would Selena go from hot to cold? Paige had warned Selena away from him. This was all her fault. He was such a fool—again.

“I guess you're right. Sorry to bother you.”

“Hey, that's what brothers are for.”

They said goodbye, and Trent closed his phone.

Was
Selena crazy or just trying to win? She definitely had a competitive streak. But did he want to take that chance?

He looked around the room, stopping when his gaze landed on a ladder-back chair. He carried it to the door, jamming it under the knob, then testing to make sure it wouldn't give. He damn sure didn't want Selena sneaking into his room tonight and slicing his throat—just in case she had lost her mind.

Damn, how could he be in such a good mood when he got back to the hotel and have everything turn to crap in the space of a few minutes?

He brought the bottle of wine out of the grocery sack. What he wouldn't give for a corkscrew.

Damn, it suddenly occurred to him that he wouldn't be having sex, either. Bummer.

Ah, man, he could picture Selena naked and beckoning him to make love to her. He sank into the fantasy. He would lower his body down to hers. She'd be naked, biting her bottom lip in anticipation.

As he reached to caress her breasts, he caught the glint of metal from the knife that lay beside her, and his daydream became a nightmare.

Life could be a real pain.

 

Dixie examined her fingernails. “When I was alive we didn't have that pretty stuff you paint on your nails. The world has made a lot of progress since my time.” She looked across the kitchen at Selena. “You do realize Trent thinks you're ready to slice him open, don't you?”

Selena folded the mirror closed. Oh, yeah, she'd watched his expression change from pleasure to pain to fear. She knew without a doubt that he'd planned a very different night for them, and a deep burning ache spread through her. If she hadn't pretended to be crazy, they'd be having sex right now. Hell, maybe she was crazy. She'd denied herself a night of sensual lovemaking just for revenge.

But damn it, he was planning to write a book about her! The challenge was one thing, the book something entirely different.

“You're regretting what you did.” Dixie told her what she already knew.

She'd still had time to convince him that ghosts existed. Not anymore. Nope, he was going to keep his distance. She'd squashed whatever was starting to blossom between them.

Squaring her shoulders, she looked at Dixie. “I don't care.”

She blew out the candles and marched down the hall and up the stairs. When she was even with Trent's door she stopped, an evil smile forming. Oh, she'd give him something to write about. She'd give him enough to fill three books.

He was moving about in his room. Her smile widened. More like pacing. Yep, he was worried. Did he think she'd slit his throat while he was sleeping? He tempted her to do just that.

She scratched on his door. His pacing stopped. By the time she got through with him, he'd think twice about writing his slanderous book. He'd be too worried about retribution.

“Trent?” His name trembled from her lips with just enough scratchiness in it to send apprehensive shivers up his spine—she hoped. Linda Blair from
The Exorcist
had nothing on her. “Trent?”

“Uh, yeah? Did you need something?”

“I want your body,” she said in a low, throaty voice.

Silence.

“Don't you want me, too?” she asked, her voice gravelly.

“I'm kind of tired. You know, all that searching for…uh…bones and…”

“We could have hot sex. I could do a lot of new…things to your body. I could set you free.”

Silence.

“I have a…headache.”

She grinned, leaning against the door. “Would you like me to call Paige? She could brew you a potion.”

“No!” He cleared his throat. “What I mean is that I took an aspirin a few minutes ago.”

“If you're sure.”

“Positive.”

“Good night, then.” She could almost hear his sigh of relief. There was no sense in letting him off the hook this easy. Before she walked away, she jiggled the doorknob for good measure.

Did he really think she would slice and dice him during the night? She certainly hoped so. If not, he would by the time she was finished. She'd teach him it wasn't nice to mess with a psychic. She hoped he didn't get a bit of sleep!

The next morning she went downstairs as if nothing unusual had happened the night before. Just like the other mornings, Trent leaned against the counter while waiting for the coffee to finish dripping into the glass pot.

“Good morning,” she said cheerily.

He jumped, and turned. Damn, he really looked like crap. His hair was mussed, and dark stubble gave him an almost sinister look. Way beyond
Miami Vice
sexiness. No, this look was more as though he'd been chewed up and spit out—several times.

She might be a little leery of him in this condition except for his bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes that told a different story. The man had gotten very little sleep.

Damn, she was good.

She pretended concern. “You look terrible, Trent. Didn't you sleep well last night?”

“No, I didn't sleep well last night,” he growled.

“Bad dreams?”

“You could say that.”

She clicked her tongue. His look grew darker before he turned away and reached inside the cabinet for cups.

He hadn't seen nothin' yet! She was just getting wound up. Her eyes narrowed as she looked around the room and landed on the loaf of bread.

Perfect.

While he poured the coffee, she sauntered to the cabinet drawers and opened one. Reaching inside, she pulled out a knife and held it in front of her. When he faced her again, he almost dropped the cups.

“What the hell are you doing with that knife?” he bellowed.

She innocently widened her eyes and picked up the loaf of bread. “Toast and jelly. Want some?”

“No, I don't want any.” He eyed the knife. “Yes, I do. Put the knife down and I'll fix it.”

She shrugged, but laid the knife on the counter. “Whatever.” She took her coffee to the table, wondering if she could get him to fix lunch if she wielded another knife in his direction. It was an idea.

Yum, her own personal slave. Now, that was revenge at its best.

Once she was seated, she leaned back in the chair and watched as he moved around the kitchen. Trent looked quite at home. She sighed. If only he didn't have to be such an ass.

After the toast popped up, he buttered it, slathered jam on one side and sliced it down the middle.

“Here.” He set the saucer of toast in the middle of the table.

“Thank you,” she replied sweetly.

“You're welcome.” His words were gruff, but he seemed a little more relaxed than when she first came into the kitchen. That wouldn't do. Not at all.

She waited for him to take a drink. “There's a full moon tonight.”

He choked.

“Are you all right?”

He coughed, then cleared his throat. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“What's what supposed to mean?” she asked.

“The fact that there's a full moon.” He set his cup on the table. “What does that have to do with anything?”

She shook her head. “I was just making idle conversation.”

He looked skeptical but let the matter drop. Not that she planned to, though.

“It's called Hunter's Moon. Some call it Blood Moon,” she nonchalantly stated.

He choked again.