“I don’t think it really matters.”
“Well, what does he do?”
“He’s an accountant.”
She laughs in disbelief. “An accountant? What does he do, launder money for a drug cartel? This isn’t Ozark.”
“Maybe he does. Either way, it’s a hundred fucking grand. This would change our whole life, Perry.”
Her jaw tenses and she straightens up, leaning on the counter. “You’re seriously considering this?”
“You’re seriously not?” I throw my hands out. “Do you not realize what that money can do for us?”
“Do you not realize that this could destroy us?!” Her voice is high, shrill, and there’s fear washing over her, radiating outward like a tidal wave.
Fuck.
“Baby,” I say to her quietly, feeling every cell inside me soften. I go over around the island and grab her hands, holding them up and pressing them against my chest. “Talk to me. Talk me through this. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Why do you even have to ask?” she says softly.
“Because that’s how we communicate. Please don’t expect me to read your mind, because I can’t.”
“You’re asking me to step into that world again.”
“I’m not asking anything of you yet, just to listen, just to consider it.”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
Her words slice me. Usually Perry is pretty even keeled, except when she’s PMSing (and I know better than to ever admit that out loud to her), but for the past few weeks she’s been on edge. I’ve been waiting for her to tell me and talk to me about it, but I suppose that’s a conversation for another time.
“Explain,” I say patiently.
She shakes her head and I know she’s about to pull away, but I press her hands against me tighter. She’s not going anywhere, and she knows it.
“Things have been pretty good, haven’t they?” she asks, her eyes searching mine. “It’s been three years and six months since I lost my mother, and every day is a new step forward, walking out of those ashes. I’m married to my best friend, whom I am still deeply in love with, we have a successful company. We have good friends in a city that’s been good to us. My father finally seems to be…moving on. Or he’s at least trying to. My sister…” she trails off and shakes her head, blinking. “Well, that just proves my point doesn’t it? We’re doing okay only because we left the fucked-up paranormal world behind.”
“This isn’t EIT,” I tell her. “This is something else entirely. You told me that you’d one day want to talk to ghosts instead of screaming and running from them.”
“No,” she says, taking her hands away and putting them on her hips, her saucy Italian side coming out. “You said that we could become paranormal investigators like the Warrens. That was never my idea. And I believe I said I’d file it as a to-do in five years. It’s been three.”
“But what’s the harm in doing it once?”
Her eyes nearly bug-out. “What’s the harm? Dex, what did I just say? Things have been good because we’re not dealing with the dead. We’re not seeking shit out. Ada’s life is all over the place now that she’s got Jay and can see demons and whatever the fuck. That’s bad enough as it is, do you really want that for us?”
“This would be different. This man is asking us to talk to his dead wife. Don’t you feel for him? Don’t you want to help? You have a gift Perry, why can’t you use it for good?”
“Nice, Dex, you’re trying to guilt me now. Why are you so insistent on this?”
“I’m not, I just want you to look at our options. This is a good opportunity.”
Her eyes narrow at me for a moment. “You know who you sound like right now?”
I stare at her. “Who?”
“You. The Dex from day one, when I ran into you in that lighthouse. That’s who you sound like. Opportunistic, not giving a shit why I’m putting my foot down, forever forcing me to do something I don’t want to do, something I know is a bad idea.”
I cock my head as I stare at her, my pulse picking up in my throat. “Are we fighting here?”
“Maybe,” she says with a sigh, running her hand down her face. “Look, I get that it’s a lot of money, but there’s just too much risk.”
“You won’t even think about it?”
She turns and walks over to the window, passing by our Frenchie, Fat Rabbit, who is sleeping on the couch. The fat pooch sleeps through everything, and since our personalities have always been combative, the dog is used to this kind of shit with us. Okay, maybe it’s not fair to say we’re both combative. I’m usually the problem and I’ve gotten pretty good at pushing her buttons…in more ways than one.
Perry exhales and leans against the windowsill, staring out at the Seattle skyline as it grows darker and darker with the coming evening.
I follow her. I know I should give her a lot of space, especially when she’s been so prickly and emotional lately, but, like I said, button-pusher.
“Baby,” I tell her softly, placing my hands on her shoulders. “We could do so much. We could sell this place, buy a house. A real proper house where there isn’t a monorail chugging past us all day long, where there’s a yard for Fat Rabbit. We can finally get another dog, the fat gray pit bull you want to adopt. Remember? You want to call it Lil Hippo. Lil Hippo and Fatty Rab can run around the yard. We can have peace and space and…” I want to tell her we could have space for a baby, but that’s a topic we don’t discuss anymore. “We could have enough for a house on the Sound. We could revitalize the business.”
I could film my documentary…
I feel her relaxing under my palms. “It really would fix a lot of problems, wouldn’t it?”
“I just want you to think about it,” I tell her softly, kissing the back of her head, breathing in the tropical-scent of her shampoo, a smell that feels like home to me. “I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to do. I’m not that guy anymore.”
She lets out a light snort. “That guy is still in you, Dex. Maybe a little older now, a little more subdued. And, really, you never forced me to do anything. It’s just that you’re extremely persuasive.”
“I’d say my dick drives a hard bargain, but that was before I was screwing you.”
She leans back against my hands, sighing. “That it does.” She turns her head to glance up at me over her shoulder. “I’ll think about it. But no promises.”
Chapter 2
“Happy anniversary,” Perry whispers into my ear.
Before I even have time to fully wake-up and register what’s happening, I feel her warm hand slip underneath the covers and wrap around the hard length of my perpetual morning wood.
“Happy anniversary to you too,” I manage to say through a groan, my eyes fluttering open. My head rolls to the side and I focus on her face in the morning light of our bedroom. Fucking hell, it doesn’t matter that I met her four years ago, or that we were married three years ago—my wife never fails to take my breath away.
Especially when she’s holding onto my cock.
“I know tonight isn’t exactly the anniversary that you hoped for,” she says, biting on her full lower lip for a moment, mischief sparkling in her eyes. This morning they’re the color of the ocean on a cloudy day. “But I figured I could at least get your morning off to a great start.”
“You won’t hear me complaining,” I tell her, my heart rate picking up as she climbs over me, her hair falling over her face and tickling my bare chest. Though I sleep nude, she’s always wearing some old threadbare concert tee, and while she looks phenomenally hot in them, there’s nothing like feeling her bare skin first thing in the morning.
I reach down and try to remove her shirt, but she just gives me a wicked smile.
“Nope,” she says, trailing her fingers over my chest, over the words tattooed there, And With Madness Comes the Light. “This is all for you. The least I can do for making you have dinner with my dad on our anniversa
ry.”
“Uh, if you could not mention your father when you’re about to suck me off, that would be great.”
“Sorry,” she says sweetly, so sweet that it borders on sarcastic. Makes me want to flip her over and spank her ass a few times.
But she has other plans, leaving hot, wet kisses down the middle of my abs, lower and lower. I’m already tense, hard as fucking cement. She disappears under the covers and I quickly lift them up, not wanting to miss a single second of this show. It’s not that we don’t have a healthy sex life for a married couple, but it’s also not every day that she wakes me up with a blow job.
I watch as she slides her fist down my shaft, her eyes glued to mine. Her mouth parts, and she licks the rim of her bottom lip.
Dex, you lucky piece of shit.
I don’t know what I did to deserve this woman, but she’s here, she’s slipping the swollen tip of my dick between her lips, and I completely surrender to her.
I always have.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, my voice already ragged as she sucks at me, her tongue swirling around until I can no longer hold eye contact. My head flops back against the pillow and I’m not ashamed to admit I’m not going to last that long. My wife has skills that run deep, and she plays it fast and furious.
My eyes roll back in my head, tension threading through me, coiling in my stomach. Instinctively I reach for her hair, wrapping my fingers around her strands, tugging hard. She brings me in deeper, her fingers working my balls, doing everything as only she knows how.
“Christ, Perry,” I grunt, yanking at her hair, wanting nothing more than to come. “You’re asking for trouble if you keep that going.”
I feel her mouth widen into a smile before her fist grips me harder, tighter, moving faster. The pressure inside me builds until the dam is unleashed.
I groan loudly, the sound thunderous in the bedroom, heat snaking down my spine until I feel ripped apart. I come inside her throat, my hips bucking up against her mouth, hands tangled in her hair.
Fucking fuck.
I’m left gasping on the bed, my limbs weightless, my soul circling around for a moment before it returns.
“You,” I manage to say, my voice hoarse. I lift my head and gaze at Perry, who looks extremely satisfied with herself. She wipes her lips slowly, her chin wet, and I know if I hadn’t just come so fucking hard I’d be turned on all over again. “You have a fucking gift, you know that?”
Her brows raise, cheeks flushed against her pale skin. “Seems I do.”
“I wouldn’t mind waking up like that every day for the next three years, just saying.”
She laughs as she sits up, smacking my chest playfully. “Don’t be greedy, Dex.” She moves to the edge of the bed.
“Where are you going?” I make a grab for her, but she’s quick.
“To get ready,” she says, stepping out of my grasp. “I don’t want to rush us, but I told my father we’d be there by three and I’ve got some work I need to do before then.”
She goes to the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and I sigh, collapsing back into the bed.
So, today is our wedding anniversary. Three years. Not a huge number, and apparently not a big deal when it comes to the gold, silver, bronze—whatever other Olympic medals there are for surviving marriage. But still, every year is special and poignant and for whatever reason, Perry decided we should celebrate with her father and sister.
I mean, I get it. Even though Perry said she’s been stepping forward after her mother’s death, the family has had a lot of setbacks and she needs to be with them often, propelled by guilt. Her father still hasn’t dated anyone, and tends to keep to himself. She’s often mentioned that he seems to have lost his faith, which isn’t great for a theology professor.
Then there’s her nineteen-year old sister, Ada, who, in the last year, has discovered she has a lot of the same abilities as Perry, enough so that she has her very own guardian douchebag. She also went to Hell to rescue their mother. Literal Hell. Ever since then, well, she’s grown up extremely fast, and even though she’s in Instagram college or something, seeing ghosts and demons has been a bit of a struggle for her.
And Perry, well…she puts on a sunny face, but since her thoughts sometimes leak out to me, never mind her emotions, I know that things are hard. She says she’s been happier since she put the show behind her, and I think she’s right about that. But I know she still carries a lot of fear with her.
Because the thing is, losing your mother isn’t something you just grow out of.
I should know.
And neither is seeing ghosts.
Or having the ability to read minds.
Or creating portals to another dimension out of thin air.
I know Perry still sees things she pretends not to see. I can’t blame her for acting like she doesn’t. Fuck, that’s how I operated for most of my life. Her solution, the way she’s adapted to try and be normal, to just survive, is to look the other way and pretend it’s not happening.
I should understand this. But deep down, in my gut, it worries me.
These things, this other world…it wants you to look at it.
And I’m afraid that it will get angrier the more we ignore it.
There’re so few who are able to do what we do. People say they want to explore the unknown, to stare into the abyss and have that fucking abyss stare right back at you.
In reality though, they’ll always turn and run away with their tail between their legs. Very few people have the stomach to face the things that scare them.
That’s one reason why I think taking up Mr. Cox on his offer might make a lot of sense. There is no fear here. This is a desperate man who lost his wife, who will do anything to connect with her.
If I put myself in his position, I know I’d give all the money in the world to hear from Perry again. I’d do anything. Give my own life if it could save hers.
I’ve done it before.
And this time, it’s not exploitive. We could actually help someone. We could be in control. We could communicate with this woman and unite her with her lost loved one. We could make a real difference in the lives of the living and the dead.
And it would let Perry know that there’s nothing to fear here.
The past is behind us.
So are the people we were.
But we’re in control of the people that we can be.
It starts with facing our fears.
Naturally, a hundred grand comes along for the ride, just to sweeten the pot.
But money or no money, I know I’ve got my work cut out for me. Tomorrow is Halloween, and since we’re spending tonight with her family in Portland, we’re going to stay at a cabin on Cannon Beach tomorrow. Celebrating our wedding anniversary on Halloween felt fitting.
Yet, if tomorrow is supposed to be the best night to communicate with the dead, according to some witches or whatever, then it looks like our romantic getaway will have to be postponed.
Yeah. Perry is probably going to kill me if I push for this again.
Luckily, I know how to deal with her wrath.
* * *
The drive from Seattle to Portland is usually boring as shit, but this time it’s a little more exciting, thanks to my Highlander’s transmission problems when we stop for gas in Kelso. The car is usually reliable but this year it’s started to show its age and I know it’s only a matter of time before it starts to be a constant issue.
Thankfully I’m able to get it started after twenty minutes fiddling with the engine, while Perry threatens to call roadside assistance and take away my man card.
“You know, with a hundred grand, we could trade this puppy in and get one of them new hybrids,” I tell her once we’re back on the road, smacking the wheel.
I can feel the spike of anger from her and I glance at her. She’s all flinty-eyed.
“I thought we already discussed this,” she says.
“No, you said you would think about it.” I paus
e. “I know I’ve been thinking about it. A lot.”
She worries her lip between her teeth and looks out the window. “It’s a bad idea, Dex.”
“Why?”
“I already told you why. Don’t you listen to anything I say?”
I know it seems like I’m not listening, but I need to approach this whole thing from another angle.
“Let’s pretend I’m a fuckwit and you need to explain yourself again.”
She lets out a long, heavy sigh, putting her head briefly in her hands. “Fine. I don’t want to because I’m scared. Okay? You happy now?”
“Happy that you’re scared? No, baby. That doesn’t make me very happy.”
Honestly, I didn’t expect her to just admit it like that. She’s tough as shit and has been through so much, that it takes a lot for her to just be vulnerable, even with me, even after all this time.
We drive in silence for a few minutes. My mind is spinning over what she said. Even though I know facing her fears would be good for her, I could never put her in a position where she’s admittedly scared.
Not for all the money in the world.
“I’m sorry,” she says eventually.
“What for?”
“I know you really want this.”
I lick my lips, trying to weigh my words carefully. “It’s not that I really want this, Perry. I just…until you told me the truth, that you were scared, I just thought it was a good life-changing opportunity. It wasn’t just about the money, even though that’s a huge fucking part of it.”
“So what else is it about?”
“It’s like…you know, I like what I do, I like our company.” I give her a quick smile. “Love our company. It’s so very us and even though we’re quite niche, we’re able to make a living. It’s the perfect combination of the two of us. But…”
“But what?” She’s sitting up straighter, her eyes on me, bright and focused.
“I fucking hate to say this because it sounds ridiculous, but the two of us are special. I hate that word, hate it, but sometimes it makes sense. It does here. We’re unique. We have an ability that so few have. Don’t you think we’re supposed to do something with it? I mean what’s the fucking point of being able to see ghosts and travel through the Veil and talk to the dead if we’re not going to use it?”
All the Love in the World: A Holiday Anthology Page 13
