That Man of Mine

by Maria Geraci

  Yes, just like that, she wanted to say, but something warm and wet trickled down her shin, distracting her. She pointed the flashlight on her leg to investigate. Blood! The sight of blood (especially her own) made her light-headed. Allie took a shaky breath. “Are ghosts attracted to blood?”

  “That’s zombies. Or is it vampires? Yep, it’s definitely vampires. Wait. Did you say blood? Allie, whose blood are we talking about here?”

  “Mine. I kind of cut my knee going in through the window.” No need to mention the knee incident had occurred as a result of Allie’s own clumsiness. Of course, that clumsiness had been caused by Jen’s poorly timed phone call, but Allie wasn’t one to point fingers.

  “Ooh! You broke into the building? How very Woodward and Bernstein of you. But if you get arrested, don’t expect me to bail you out of jail.”

  Jen was right. Allie didn’t normally go this far to get a story. Yes, pleasing her editor was a large part of her motivation, but the fact was, despite its run down appearance, there was something about the old building that called out to her.

  “The thing is, I have a hot date tonight and driving all the way up to Whispering Pines to save your butt isn’t on my agenda,” Jen said.

  A hot date at this time of night was code for a booty call from Jen’s boyfriend, Sean. For the first time this evening Allie was glad she wasn’t home tucked away in bed. She wasn’t sure what Jen and Sean were into, but they’d met at a Tarzan yodeling contest. If Sean spent the night, it meant Allie didn’t get any sleep unless she wore earplugs.

  “It’s Whispering Bay,” Allie said, unable to stop from correcting Jen. Allie hadn’t called Whispering Bay home since she was eighteen, but the only family she had in the world lived here, and she still visited frequently enough that she was on a first name basis with most of the town’s population. It was only natural she felt protective of the place.

  “Whatever. You’re so uptight. You know, you could use a hot date yourself. Hey, maybe the ghost is male,” Jen added.

  “And probably like eighty-years-old. This place used be a senior center. Plus, I kinda like my guys alive. Jen, listen, I really have to go—”

  “Alive does come in handy. So…the reason I called is we just got a notice saying our electricity is going to be turned off in two days. Didn’t you pay the bill?”

  “I thought it was your month to pay the bill.”

  “No, I paid it last month.”

  Allie was positive she’d paid the electricity last month, but without checking her online bank statement, she had no proof.

  “I’d pay it, but I’m kind of short,” Jen said. “Plus, you know, it is your turn.”

  Argh. Why did money (or the lack of it) always seem to pop up at the most inconvenient times? At this point in her life, Allie should have been well on track with Life Goal Number Three—a permanent job with benefits. But Life Goal Number Two had taken her longer (and been more expensive) than she’d originally thought, putting her woefully behind schedule. Which meant she was still freelancing, which meant she lived article-to-article.

  Translation: Paycheck-to-paycheck.

  Hence, she had to supplement her income with the second oldest profession known to womankind. Waitressing. Weekdays, she lived her dream job. Weekends? Not so much. But the tips she made waiting tables at The Blue Monkey, a hipster Vegan restaurant in downtown Tampa, had saved her carnivorous butt from starving on more than one occasion. There was no way around it. She’d have to transfer money from her dwindling savings and pray she didn’t break her neck trying to crawl back out the window.

  The sound of crunching gravel made Allie stop in her tracks. “Jen,” she whispered into the phone, “I think I just heard something.”

  “Like what? Moaning? Chains rattling?” Jen’s voice hitched with excitement. “Sounds like my kind of place. And why are you talking so low? I can barely make out what you’re saying. It’s not like the ghost couldn’t hear you if it wanted to. It can probably even read your thoughts.”

  If Allie hadn’t been so creeped out she would have laughed. “What are you, a ghost expert?”

  Another sound. This time it did sound like a chain rattling.

  Blimey. A ghost after Jen’s own kinky heart!

  “Jen, I gotta go—”

  “But the electric bill—”

  “I promise I’ll pay it tomorrow online.”

  “Okay. Awesome! So, good luck with that ghost. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She hung, up leaving Allie to wonder exactly what those last words meant.

  Keeping herself as still as possible, Allie slipped the cell phone back into her shorts pocket. The building was now eerily quiet. No gravel crunching. No chains rattling. Had she imagined it? Probably. Allie let out a pent up breath. She didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed. Both, maybe.

  She waited a few minutes so that her vision adjusted to the darkness. Years ago, she’d been inside this building. Buela had brought her here after Allie had graduated high school, proud of the granddaughter about to go off to college that she’d raised almost single-handedly. Back then the senior center had been alive. Full of noise and energy. Now, the place just looked sad. Empty, with bits of scattered trash strewn on the floor.

  Something small and dark scurried past her.

  Correction: Not exactly empty.

  Cockroaches!

  The place was probably crawling with them. Allie was a native Floridian, so she should be used to all manner of creepy crawly things, but sorry, she’d never get used to cockroaches. Best to get this over with as quickly as possible.

  “Hello?” she called out. Unable to help herself, she giggled. More out of nerves than a comedic response, because it wasn’t as if she expected someone to answer.

  A chain rattled—louder than before—followed this time by a distinct clang.

  This was no product of her imagination.

  Her mouth went dry. She squeezed the flashlight in her hand, nearly cutting off the blood flow to her fingers.

  She tried to concentrate on the rattling sound but all she could hear was the soft whoosh of waves lapping onto a beach. Was her mind playing tricks with her? Because it would be impossible to hear the ocean from inside the building.

  Then she remembered the window she’d crawled through.

  Of course. The sound was coming though the now open window.

  A rush of air swept through her. But instead of the cool night air she’d expected, this was a warm tropical breeze. A pleasant smell assailed her nostrils. Slightly sweet, and vaguely comforting. Lemons, maybe? Her arms erupted in goose bumps. But strangely enough, she was neither cold nor frightened.

  A door slammed behind her. She spun around just in time to see a shadow dash across the room. The warm lemony smell vanished, replaced by a voice inside telling her that she was in big trouble. The door was padlocked. Which meant that whatever had gotten inside the building had bypassed the lock. Which was…impossible.

  Allie tried to scream, but her throat wasn’t cooperating.

  Luckily, her legs weren’t so chicken shit.

  She turned to run but something charged at her, smacking her solidly in the chest. The air flew from her lungs. Her last thought before hitting the floor was that ghosts weren’t supposed to make physical contact. They needed Whoopi Goldberg for that.

  She struggled to roll out from under whatever had attacked her, but it was no use. The thing on top of her was composed of solid bone and muscle.

  “Hold still,” hissed a deep voice. For a second there, it sounded like… No, that too was impossible. “I told you the next time I caught you breaking into the place I’d call the cops.”

  Allie nearly swallowed her tongue. She knew that voice. Hot, dark, male. And definitely alive.

  Rock Addiction by Nalini Singh

  New York Times bestselling author Nalini Singh stuns with a sizzling contemporary romance…

  A bad boy wrapped in a sexy, muscled, grown-up package m
ight be worth a little risk…

  Molly Webster has always followed the rules. After an ugly scandal tore apart her childhood and made her the focus of the media’s harsh spotlight, she vowed to live an ordinary life. No fame. No impropriety. No pain. Then she meets Zachary Fox, a tattooed bad boy rocker with a voice like whiskey and sin, and a touch that could become an addiction.

  A one-night stand with the hottest rock star on the planet, that’s all it was meant to be…

  Fox promises scorching heat and dangerous pleasure, coaxing Molly to extend their one-night stand into a one-month fling. After that, he’ll be gone forever, his life never again intersecting with her own. Sex and sin and sensual indulgence, all with an expiration date. No ties, no regrets. Too late, Molly realizes it isn’t only her body that’s become addicted to Fox, but her heart…

  Special Excerpt:

  Fox hadn’t become the lead singer of one of the best-selling rock bands in history by being a shrinking violet. No, he went after what he wanted, no holds barred. And the raw promise he could feel between him and Molly? He had to know where it would lead, the need so strong he hadn’t felt anything like it since the day he’d figured out that music was his escape, the air in his lungs.

  Which was why he was leaning against the wall beside Molly’s apartment at five that afternoon, a guitar by his side.

  The elevator doors opened at a quarter after the hour, Molly going motionless two steps outside of it, the doors closing silently at her back. Yeah, she hadn’t expected him, but Fox was ready to work with that. Waiting patiently as she took a deep breath and completed the trek down the corridor, he drew in the scent of her, his gaze lingering on the fluttering pulse in her neck.

  “How did you get past security?”

  Fox smiled slowly at the blurted-out question, wondering if Molly knew how bad she was at hiding her emotions. He liked it, liked that he saw the real Molly, not an illusion she’d created to tempt him—not that she had to do anything but smile to tempt him. “I told you the security sucks.”

  Unable to resist, he reached out to run his finger down one creamy cheek flushed with a mix of surprise, passion, and, he was certain, sweet, hot feminine anger. His guess was borne out when Molly unlocked her door with jittery hands and put down her handbag on one corner of the bench, her fingers trembling before she curled them into her palms. “You’re breaking the rules.”

  “What rules?” Closing the door, he leaned back on it and willed her to face him. Much as he loved the shape of her from the back, he liked watching those expressive eyes whisper her mood to him.

  Shoulders tight, she turned. “This was supposed to be a one-night stand.”

  Also out now: Book TWO in the Rock Kiss series – ROCK HARD

  About the Author

  Maria Geraci writes contemporary romance and women’s fiction with a happy ending. The Portland Book Review called her novel, The Boyfriend of the Month Club, “immensely sexy, immensely satisfying and humorous.” Her fourth novel, A Girl Like You, was nominated for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA ® award. She lives in north Florida with her family, which includes a very needy chihuahua, an extremely needy dachshund and a not-so-needy cat (guess which one she likes best?). You can reach her at www.mariageraci.com.

  Copyright Information

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Copyright © 2015 by Maria Geraci

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Book cover design by The Scarlett Rugers Design Agency

  www.scarlettrugers.com

  eISBN: 978-1-942356-08-0