“Classy.”
“You know it,” he said. “It started when we were kids. ‘I bet you I can eat three hot dogs in thirty seconds.’ But then, as we got older, we did food challenges for things. We had to share a car in high school, so if we both had dates, we did a food challenge to see who got the car for the weekend and who had to hoof it or bum a ride.
“Then, once we were adults, we started doing food challenges to force each other to do things we’d never do on our own. She made me go to one of those paint night events, you know?”
Riley nodded.
“I was the only guy there! But it was actually pretty fun.”
“What’d you paint?”
“Bunch of trees … sunset in the background. Didn’t turn out half bad.”
“What kind of stuff have you made her do?”
“Well, the most memorable one was about five years ago. I won the Curdled Milk Challenge—”
“Gross!” Riley said, laughing.
“Oh, you have no idea. It took me years to put milk in my cereal again,” Michael said. “Now, my sister can drink me under the table in most circumstances, but she hates bars. Gay bars, straight bars—doesn’t matter. Not her thing. So I made her go on a pub crawl with me for St. Paddy’s Day.”
“Ugh! The green beer!”
Michael nodded sagely. “We were on about bar four of seven when I turn around and Donna is gone. We’re both well passed buzzed at this point, so I was a little worried. I finally find her chatting up some girl named Carla who also had been roped into a pub crawl that night by her brother. She and her brother hung out with us for the rest of the crawl. A little over a year ago, Donna and Carla got married.”
“Damn. You’re a matchmaker.”
“Right? I’m pretty amazing.”
“Calm down, tiger.”
He laughed.
“So what challenge did you lose to get sucked into a paranormal investigation?”
“The Ghost Pepper Challenge.”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t pretty. The whole family got together a couple months ago to celebrate Donna and Carla’s anniversary, so of course there was a challenge issued. She totally had this all planned, though. She’s sneaky like that.
“She said whoever could handle the ghost pepper better would be the winner. Now, we’re both fan of spicy foods but hadn’t ever tried ghost peppers—and they aren’t even the hottest peppers in the world!”
“Who judged who handled it better?”
“My family at large. They’re the worst people: none of them warned me about how bad it would be.”
“They probably gave up a long time ago about you ever possessing a modicum of sense.”
Michael knocked into her gently with his shoulder. “Modicum. Impressive.” The dimple reappeared with his smile. “I’m also deeply offended by the insinuation, but I’ll allow it. Also, for the record, I’m now more of a reformed idiot.”
Smiling, she bumped him back and took another sip of her drink.
“Okay, so, the plan was to just take a bite of the pepper and see who lost control of their bodily functions first. Someone was standing by with cold glasses of milk. But because I’m an idiot—” he shot her a pointed look, “—I ate the whole thing, thinking they couldn’t be as hot as everyone says. But, oh … holy … shit. I immediately started sweating. It felt like my face was literally on fire. I’m tearing up, snot is running out of my nose, the inside of my ears start to itch.
“I lunge for the milk within seconds, gulping it down in record time. I run for the kitchen and start shoveling bread into my mouth. I’m gagging on it given how fast I’m trying to eat the stuff. Donna comes barreling in seconds later, and we’re laughing so hard we’re crying, but also cursing each other out at the same time.
“I would burp and it would bring all the spice back up and I’d go scrambling for more bread or milk or water. I’m not even going to tell you about the following twelve hours and what that horrible little pepper from the pits of hell did to my intestines, but just know it was horrible. Worst thing I’ve ever done.”
Riley had been reduced to giggles almost immediately. She put down her mug and wiped at her eyes. “My god, you’re such an idiot.”
Michael smiled at her. “Reformed, Riley. Reformed.”
She blew out a calming breath. “How long did it take before you—”
“Until I no longer felt like Mount Vesuvius was erupting every time I used the bathroom?”
Riley let out another undignified snort that set them both laughing.
“I was out of commission for twenty-four hours.”
“And Donna?”
“Maybe a little less? She was smart enough to only eat half the pepper. But it destroyed us both.”
Riley shook her head, smiling to herself as she watched her feet dangling above the tile floor.
“At the risk of sounding cheesy as hell …”
“Uh oh.” She glanced over at him.
“It was all worth it to hear that snort.”
She elbowed him.
“What about you?” he asked. “Brothers, sisters?”
“Nope. Only child. Two really awesome parents who are still together. Jade is the closest I’ve got to a sibling.”
“And she’s really into all this … stuff?” He waved a hand in the air, indicating the paranormal in general, she supposed.
“Yep. All four of my friends are. Huge fans of the show, too.”
“But not you?”
Riley had been having such a nice time with him, she didn’t want to sully it with talk of her sensitivity … gift … ability … whatever. “Willing to keep an open mind.”
He narrowed his eyes at her a little. “You’re really going to give me the same generic answer you gave the group? I thought we got past that. I told you of my intestinal woes.”
She smiled despite herself, but didn’t say anything. She chewed on her bottom lip, gaze focused on her dangling feet.
“Hey, sorry if I said something to upset you,” he said when she stayed silent. “I … I like you. Just trying to get to know you, is all.”
“You didn’t say anything wrong. You’ve been perfectly lovely, actually.” She hopped off the counter. She shivered a little at the feel of the tile beneath her socked feet. “I should probably get to bed, though.”
He stared at her for a moment, his hanging feet crossed at the ankles and his fingers wrapped around the lip of the counter. That single dimple made an appearance as he angled a half-smile at her. She, just for a moment, considered telling him about Becca and the weird experience out on the patio earlier. But how much of that desire was simply because he was easy on the eyes? Like gorgeous criminals who got lighter sentences because it was harder to punish beautiful people.
“Thanks for the drink.”
His shoulders sagged. “Of course.” Hopping off the counter too, he placed her mug in the sink with his. “I should probably go to bed, too.”
They pushed open the double doors to the kitchen. Donna and Carla were still poring over the same book, talking in low tones.
“Oh, the light,” Riley said, grabbing one of the doors just before it shut and pulling it back open. As she reached for the light switch, something flickered in her peripheral vision.
Sitting on the island on the edge closer to the door—the opposite side from where they’d been sitting—sat her mug. The same one she’d watched Michael place in the sink before they headed for the door.
“You okay?”
Riley jumped. Flicking off the light, Riley closed the door and smiled at Michael, who stood a few feet away.
“Yep, everything’s great.”
She told him goodnight, waved to Donna and Carla as she speed-walked across the lobby, and hurried back to her room.
CHAPTER 6
Riley woke with a start, sitting upright in bed. Where was she?
The droning whir of a blow dryer started up again.
; “She lives!”
That was Pamela, standing beside the other bed, her suitcase open. She still wore pajamas but her hair and makeup were done. Pamela never wore much makeup, but her eyeshadow game was always on point, regardless of the occasion.
“I forgot you sleep like the dead,” Pamela said. “Stay up late?”
Riley swiped a wayward lock of hair out of her face. “I, uh … couldn’t sleep so I went downstairs and that guy Michael and I talked for a bit.”
Pamela threw a shirt at her head. “Shut up!” Bounding over, she plopped on the foot of Riley’s bed. “Dish!”
The blow dryer turned off.
Riley laughed. “We just talked! And he made me a White Russian.”
“Who made who a White Russian?” asked Jade, poking her head out of the bathroom. Brie appeared to be the one manning the blow dryer. Riley wasn’t sure where Rochelle was.
When Riley told Jade about Michael, she scurried over with the same enthusiasm as Pamela. “What happened?”
“Y’all need to relax,” Riley said. “It’s not like I’ve never talked to a guy before.”
Jade and Pamela shared a look full of smirking mouths and arched brows.
“What!” said Riley.
“Honey, you’ve not only been a homebody for six months, you’ve been a celibate homebody,” said Jade, patting Riley’s knee.
“My god that sounds incredible,” Brie said, wandering over from the bathroom. Her shiny hair fell in a cascading sheet of brown just past her shoulders.
“If you wanted to be celibate, you know I’d support that. But I’ve seen you flirt, girl—you’re incorrigible. You don’t flirt like a girl who doesn’t want a snake in her grass.”
Riley and Pamela cracked up. One of Jade’s favorite pastimes was coming up with sexual euphemisms. They almost exclusively featured wildlife.
Just then, Rochelle came into the room with two plates heaped with donuts. “The Skinny Jean Quartet totally hates me right now.” Then she glanced at Brie. “Oh. Can vegans eat donuts?”
“Yes, but likely not those,” Brie replied. “You ladies dig in; I’ll be fine.”
While everyone got ready—taking intermittent breaks to wolf down donuts; Brie whipped out a nut bar of some kind—Riley was grilled about Michael.
Luckily, they’d all been awake for a couple hours before Riley got up, so she was able to duck into the shower after several minutes to escape. By the time she emerged again, conversation had shifted to the evening’s first investigation.
As she followed the girls out of the Hyssop Room and down the stairs, Riley dreaded seeing Nina. Dreaded what she had in store for the group’s skeptics.
Angela the receptionist flitted about the room, talking to the three groups. Michael, Donna, and Carla sat in the same places they’d been last night. If not for their change in clothes, Riley would have thought they’d been there all night.
A row of additional tables rested along the wall near the main dining table. Dishes and silverware were stacked on one end, followed by the remnants of breakfast: a basket with a red-cloth lining that now only held a couple of apples and a banana, a small tower of mini cereal boxes, two coffee dispensers, and a carafe of ice water sweating onto a wide, wooden coaster.
Towering green pines stood beyond the large bay windows. A fluffy-tailed squirrel scampered up a trunk and disappeared into the branches of a nearby tree. She imagined the forest was alive with bird song and babbling creeks and humming insects. The world beyond the ranch house’s walls seemed safer than whatever might be lurking behind doors and under their feet.
Michael’s chair faced the windows, so he wouldn’t have seen her come downstairs. He glanced over his shoulder then, scanning the room. A contagious smile broke out on his face when he locked eyes with Riley.
“Damn,” Rochelle whispered, the only one in their group not currently discussing Paranormal Playground. “Get your ass over there right now. When a man that hot looks at you like that, you run, princess. You do not walk.”
Riley’s attention snapped to Rochelle. “Oh, that’s not fair! You can’t quote Tiana’s Circle at me!”
“Can and did!” Then she dramatically nudged Riley towards Michael.
Stumbling over her own feet, she drew the attention of several guests.
Michael saw it and offered Rochelle a thumbs up. Riley headed his way, glaring at the traitorous girl behind her. Rochelle blew her a kiss.
Riley plopped herself into the chair beside him.
“Good morning, Riley,” he said, aiming an overly sweet smile at her.
“Good morning, Mr. Roberts.”
He laughed. “Oh, so we’ve gone from swapping stories to issuing formalities?”
Riley really didn’t want to like this guy. “I’m sorry I rabbited on you last night.”
“So you admit you fled,” he said, turning toward her. Lowering his voice, he added, “Honestly, did I say something to upset you?”
“No. It’s me, really.”
“Ah, that classic line,” he said, sitting back.
“Get it a lot?”
He smiled. “Haven’t gotten much of anything lately.”
“Same.” Her cheeks burned. Why had she admitted that?
“Why not?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“Well,” he said, leaning toward her again; she mirrored him. “My last serious entanglement was almost two years ago, and it ended because I caught her with one of her students.”
Riley’s mouth dropped open.
“Shit, wait. I should clarify—she worked at a college. So the student was legal, at least.”
“That’s slightly less shitty.”
“Slightly,” he said. “Did I mention I’d recently bought a ring?”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. Sort of swore off dating for a while.”
She bit her lip. Casey hadn’t actually cheated on her—yet. But one night she’d used his computer to order pizza—her laptop was in her bag in a different room entirely and she’d felt lazy. They knew each other’s passwords, so she keyed his in and found that he’d signed up for one of those “cheat discreetly” websites. The idiot had forgotten to log out of it, much less minimize the page, and Riley had seen his profile-in-progress.
“My girlfriend is always too busy working to spend the amount of time with me I need. Plus I have needs and curiosities I want to explore that she’s unwilling to try. I love her well enough, and she’s marriage material for sure, but daddy needs to play.”
After reading that, and nearly throwing up in her mouth, she’d packed up her stuff while he was at work a day later. Her note on the counter simply said, “Enjoy playing with yourself, Daddy.”
Casey mostly definitely had been a terrible boyfriend. Inconsiderate. Stingy. Verbally abusive when drinking. Passive-aggressive when stone-cold sober. But Riley had known him since freshman year and the good memories often helped crowd out the bad.
But when she’d read that profile, it was as if the world stopped spinning for a moment and the clarity of her situation snapped into place. She’d been lying to herself for years about the relationship. And what for? She couldn’t see herself marrying Casey. So she’d left.
And turned into a celibate hermit.
“Riley.”
Her attention focused on Michael, his dark brows pulled together.
“Did I zone out again?”
“Happen often?”
“Just lately. I sort of suck at human interaction.”
He smiled at her. He had a great smile.
She needed to get her mind off that smile. “So what made you want to try dating again?” Maybe someday she’d want to get back on the wagon.
“I met you.”
They stared at each other for a solid five seconds, then burst into laughter.
She swatted at his arm. “You’re so corny!”
“You almost bought it! For like a split second.” Sighing, and still slightly laughi
ng to himself, he said, “One day I just decided I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself. I loved that girl. I really did. But I had to let myself mourn the life I thought I was going to have, and then just … try again. It was too depressing otherwise.”
“And dating itself isn’t depressing?”
“Touché. I guess I’d rather try and fail than wallow in self-pity?” He shrugged. “I have some really good first-date stories.”
“Maybe you can tell me some of them later.”
“As long as you promise not to run away again.”
“I make no promises,” Riley said. “But I’ll try to suck less at the whole, you know, talking thing.”
“I’ll take it.”
Michael had just started telling Riley about his room—the Crabapple—when Jade crept over and stood in front of them. They looked up.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Offering Michael one of her award-winning smiles, she held out a hand. “I’m Jade, by the way.”
Michael shook it. “Ah, the best friend who threatened Riley’s life should she not attend.”
“That’s me!” Glancing at Riley, she said, “Since there’s still over an hour before the team gets here, we thought it might be nice to cruise the grounds. There’s a hiking trail not far from here.” Smiling at Michael again, she added, “But if you’d rather stay here …”
Before Riley could get a word out, Michael said, “We can talk later.”
“I swear I’m not running off this time,” she said, standing up.
He just smiled. “Have a nice time, ladies.”
Jade hooked her arm around Riley’s and dragged her out the front door, the other three girls hot on their tail.
“Daaamn,” they all said in unison when they were outside.
“Shut up,” Riley said, laughing, knowing Jade was behind the group reaction.
“You know I’m not usually attracted to white boys,” Jade said, her arm still looped through Riley’s as they headed to the trail, “but if I wasn’t already happily in a relationship, I’d totally let that fox into this hen house.”
The hiking trail had been carved, and maintained, by the horses from the dude ranch on the other end of the property. Though littered with clumps of horse poop, the trampled ground provided a nice stroll. They walked in a single-file line, Jade leading the charge.
The Forgotten Child Page 6
