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Authors: Sandra Cox

Ghost for Sale (14 page)

BOOK: Ghost for Sale
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“I’m sorry.” I reached over and grasped his hand. He flicked it over, palm up to clasp mine, his skin warm and vital.

Electricity jolted us. We jumped and dropped hands.

Liam’s look was frosty. “I’m sorry for the lad, but you don’t need to get all touchy-feely in front of me. It’s not polite.” He stared at me, unrepentant.

Touchy-feely?
Liam had been watching too much TV.

“Wow, if touching your hand gives off sparks, I can’t imagine what a kiss would be like.” Patrick stared, his eyes wide, his hair on end.

A growl sounded from the back seat. Thunder boomed in a sharp crack directly over his side of the car. Patrick jumped, grabbed the steering wheel, and looked wildly around.

I cringed and closed my eyes. The chance of developing a love life with Liam around was slim to none.

“That was very weird.” Patrick flexed his fingers before he started the car.

“Yes, wasn’t it?” I responded, my voice as well as my throat dry. “Listen, Patrick, I hope you aren’t looking for a relationship, my life’s complicated right now,” was the best I could come up with.

“I understand.” He put his arm across the back of the seat and eased out of the drive.

“I doubt it.” What an understatement.

“The other guy, right?”

You mean the other ghost?

“Clayton?” Liam and I said together. I rubbed my forehead where pressure built between my eyes. “No. Clayton and I aren’t an item. What’s your father do for a living?”

Patrick gave me a quick glance but took the hint. “My dad teaches history at the local community college and my mom’s an admin assist at the same college.”

“Really? That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, it is.” His lips curved up in a smile that lit his whole face. “There was never a lot of money while I was growing up, but we never lacked for anything, especially in the things that counted. You?”

“My family’s pretty tight too.” I tried to include Liam in the conversation but his focus was elsewhere. My breath caught in my throat as he slid through the two-inch opening on the passenger window. What the heck was he doing?

“I need some air.” He loped alongside the car, arms pumping, legs extended, looking around as he ran.

Who would have thought a ghost could move so fast? As one block turned into two and two into three with no mishaps, I relaxed. What trouble could he possibly get in? I shifted in my seat and chatted with Patrick.

Gliding alongside the passenger side of the moving car, Liam tapped on the window. Eyes bright with excitement, he pointed up the street at a shiny black sports car. He cut in front of Patrick’s car to get a better look and slowed his pace.

Unfortunately, Patrick didn’t. My heart rose in my throat as Patrick’s car rolled straight through him.

Oh my God. Oh my God.
I whipped around in my seat. Liam still stood in the middle of the road. I don’t know who looked more astonished, me or the ghost. Luckily, Patrick was nearly at the park and paying attention to traffic.

Liam leaped to the car and slid in the back window. I opened my mouth to ask if he was all right, but my throat was too dry to say a word. It was just as well. By the disgusted look on his face, I gathered he was unharmed.

His next words confirmed it. “Lover boy needs to watch where he’s going.” Arms crossed, he glared at Patrick.

I didn’t bother to point out the obvious, that Patrick couldn’t see him. Even a ghost was entitled to be disgruntled after a car drives through him.

“We’re here.” Patrick flicked on the blinker and turned into the park. Adults, children, and dogs filled the recreation area. Blankets spread across the hillside like a crazy patchwork quilt. Patrick inched along behind a long line of cars, looking for a parking spot.

“This could take forever. I’m going to look for a place to park. Tell lover boy not to run over me.” Liam disappeared through the roof of the car. Moments later, he was back. “Four cars up on the right. It’s too tight for anything but a small car.”

I took my cue, pressed my nose to the glass, and pointed. “Up there on the right.”

“I don’t see anything.” Patrick hunched forward, squinting. He inched past a couple more cars. “I see it,” he said, and flipped on his turn signal. “What, have you got x-ray vision?”

“Nope, a ghost whispered it in my ear.”

Liam glared at me.

“Ha-ha. Good one.” Patrick eased his car into the parking space and turned off the motor.

As we got out, a heavy metal band tuned up.

“This is going to be fun.” Liam rubbed his hands together and eyed all the people strolling around the park.

“Yes, it is.” His excitement contagious, I rose on my tiptoes trying to see the band.

“Excuse me?” Patrick had the trunk up. He pulled out a wicker basket, with a red and white checkered tablecloth folded over it, and a blue blanket.

“I said this is going to be fun.” I borrowed Liam’s phrase.

“It must be the music in the background, I could have sworn you said, ‘yes it is.’” He shook his head.

He tossed the blanket over his shoulder and slipped his arm through mine. “Let’s go find a place to sit.”

For a moment, Liam’s outline flickered with electricity. I stiffened. Then he shrugged. Apparently, he’d decided linking arms was not classified as touchy-feely.

The sun had gone down, leaving the sky a dull gray with a wisp of red where it met the earth. Stars began to twinkle. Soft grass tickled the sides of my feet, and the smell of hot dogs made my mouth water. Tension in my shoulders loosened as two young boys raced past us, then vanished altogether. “Thanks, Patrick, this was a great idea.”

“I like the outdoors.” He placed the blanket on the grass and lowered the picnic basket. “Do you like to hike?”

“My idea of hiking is trekking from one sale to the next.”

Patrick laughed as he flipped a wrinkle out of the blanket.

“I do like to swim, though.” I plopped down on the blanket. A thousand cushy blades of grass pricked through the cloth. Liam hovered beside me, his chin in his hand, his legs stretched out.

“Good for you.” Patrick dug into the basket and pulled out a couple of bottles of water, biscuits, fried chicken, coleslaw, mashed potatoes, and brownies.

“I’m impressed.” I reached for a bottle of water.

“I stopped at the local deli.” He grinned, loaded up a plate, and handed it to me.

The band tuned up as the sky darkened. Fireflies blinked on and off as young children chased them.

“I’m going to stroll around.” Liam floated to his feet and headed in the direction of the band.

I nodded and bit into my chicken.

Patrick gave me a quizzical look.

“What?” I said around a mouthful of food, my hand over my mouth.

“You do that a lot.”

I swallowed. “Do what?”

“Nod, like you’re carrying on a conversation I’m not aware of.” He picked up a chicken leg and chewed thoughtfully.

“So I talk to myself. So what?” I jammed a forkful of mashed potatoes in my mouth. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so much fun after all.

He reached over and touched my cheek with his finger. “It’s not like you’re talking to yourself. It’s like you’re talking to someone I can’t see.”

I choked. Patrick set down his plate and pounded me on the back. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I whispered, in a hoarse voice.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.”

Patrick continued to watch me, his features hard to read.

“You think I’m crazy.” I put down my plate, my appetite gone.

“I think you’re beautiful and mysterious. If you occasionally nod or shrug to yourself, you’re entitled.”

My insides warmed. Patrick was kind, caring, and fun. He made me feel good… When he wasn’t commenting on me talking to myself.

“So are you excited about going to Virginia Tech this fall?” Patrick asked around a mouthful of coleslaw.

I nodded, then swallowed. We’d talked about schools last night. To both our delight we discovered we’d be at the same school. “I’ll be rooming with Marcy. She’ll be a sophomore this year.”

Patrick set his plate aside and sprawled on the blanket belly side down, his lanky legs stretched out, his elbows propping up his shoulders. “Didn’t you say you planned to major in journalism?”

“That’s right.”

“Journalism,” he repeated, his forehead scrunched. “King!” He snapped his fingers. “Don King, Pulitzer prize winner.”

“Um-hum.”

“Your dad?” His eyebrows rose.

“Yup.”

He whistled. “Wow. I’m impressed. His pieces on the oil spill and whale hunting were outstanding. Do you think I could meet him sometime?”

“Sure. Be warned, he’ll talk your ear off. Dad loves nothing better than to pontificate on subjects near and dear to him.”

Patrick grinned. “You must be very proud of him.”

“I am.” The band had switched out. The new group played blues. It wouldn’t have been my first choice, but the lonely wail of a saxophone drifting on the air added a touch of romance to the evening. “Let me repeat, this was a great idea.”

“Thank you.” Head cocked to the side, he studied me.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that.” I shifted my position on the blanket.

“Do what?”

“Look at me like I’m a bug under a microscope.”

“It’s the biology major in me. Did I mention you’re a very attractive bug?” he teased.

A laugh spilled out of my throat. “No one’s ever said that to me before.” I set my plate aside and stretched out on my stomach, my position mimicking Patrick’s, our faces inches apart.

“I find you fascinating. If someone didn’t take the time to get to know you, they’d fall for that ditzy demeanor you sometimes present, but underneath it is a very intelligent, warm young woman.”

Still balanced on his elbows, he leaned forward and ran his thumb across my bottom lip, the touch as light and delicate as a surgeon’s. My mouth opened, and my breathing became shallow. His lips touched mine.

Thunder exploded in the sky, and a white jagged lightning bolt struck next to the blanket.

We jumped back and stared at each other. Shrieks sounded in the background as a nearby baby cried. My eyes filled. This was so not funny.

“Did the earth move or was it just me?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Liam stood with his arms crossed, glaring at me.

“What are you staring at?” Patrick waved a hand in front of my face.

“Nothing,” I whispered, my chest tight.

He looked at the sky. “Not to take anything away from our kiss, but I thought the heavens were about to open. But there’s not a cloud or a drop of rain.” He held his hand palm up.

I swallowed past my thickened throat. “Dry storm.”

“Must be.” Something in my voice caught his attention. He leaned forward and caught my chin to study my face. “What’s wrong?”

I jerked my head away, afraid Liam might take exception. But Liam had disappeared. “Don’t you find this”—I flapped my hand around—“a little odd?”

“All the electricity in the air when we touch?” He grinned at me.

“Yes.”

“I find it a romantic coincidence. What else could it be?”

“Yeah, what else could it be?” I bit back hysterical laughter.

He leaned closer. “Shall we try again?”

I jumped back. “What could top thunder and lightning? I think I’ll have another brownie.” I scooted back and reached for a brownie, trying to ignore my tingling skin and racing heart.

“I don’t want any complications right now,” I mumbled indistinctly around a mouthful of decadent dessert.

“It was only a kiss, and a brief one at that.”

With difficulty, I swallowed the large bite of gooey chocolate. “Kisses lead to complications.”

“Is that the voice of experience talking?”

“Yeah.” As of five seconds ago.

“No pressure then. When you decide you’re ready for the complications, plant one on me. I’ll cooperate fully.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“You’re very special, Patrick.” I started to cover his hand with mine, then thought better of it.

“Glad you noticed. And speaking of noticing, they’ve changed bands again.”

We turned our attention to the stage. Gradually, I relaxed, but the shine had gone out of the evening. My preoccupation was such it took me a while to notice the growing buzz of the crowd. “There.” “Look there.” “How’s that possible?”

I stood up and looked around. Liam carried a bunch of balloons. A balloon vendor ran behind him flapping his arms. At each child he came to, Liam handed out a balloon. It looked as though the balloons floated through the air to the children. A few parents thrust bills into the vendor’s hands, thinking it was a magic act.

Laughing children followed the trail of balloons, squealing, “Me, me.”

Liam continued to pass out the brightly colored, helium-filled rubber until only one remained. With children still trailing behind him, he walked to me. Children jumped in the air for the one remaining balloon that floated in the air. Solemnly, he handed it to me.

My hand reached out of its own accord, and our gazes locked for a long moment. Light shimmered up and down the string from his hand. The balloon glowed and expanded, while the crowd ooh’d and ah’d. With a loud pop, it burst, the pressure too great for the thin rubber casing. Liam disappeared as well.

The crowd that had followed the balloons slowly dispersed, chatting excitedly.

My limp legs gave. I dropped to the blanket, clutching the string and broken casing.

“Wow.” Patrick plopped beside me. “I’ve got to tell you, I’ve never been on a date quite like this before. We touch hands and sparks fly, we kiss and thunder booms, and then a helium balloon floats right into your hand.”

“Helium?” I still felt numb. It wasn’t helium responsible for the balloon ending up in my hand. A certain ghost had placed it there, but I was perfectly happy for him to think it had floated there of its own accord.

“What else could it be? And those balloons going to the children…awesome. I’d love to know how the vendor did it.”

I could tell him, but I wasn’t about to. I put a shaky hand to my forehead. Liam hadn’t hurt anyone. He was capable of it, but he hadn’t hurt anyone.
I repeated it to myself like a mantra.

BOOK: Ghost for Sale
12.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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