If she was going to be honest with herself at least, she knew it wasn’t the ghost thing making her nerves sing tonight. Or at least, that wasn’t the only thing.
Jesse was here, at The Boatyard, with a large group of friends. And this morning, he’d asked her to join them. When she explained she’d be there anyway, hostessing, he insisted she join them once the last of the dinner crowd had been seated.
That time had arrived—she was free to clock out. And her stomach was doing flips as she contemplated going over and sitting with the boisterous group of longtime friends.
Tatiana left as she was drying her hands, calling out for her to have a good rest of her night. Lark returned to the mirrors over the sink and checked her reflection. She was wearing a black one-piece jumpsuit, the strapless cut baring her chest and shoulders while the flowy pants covered her legs. A little sexy while still work-appropriate, she’d thought. But she didn’t feel especially sexy compared to the other women in the group, who wore much clingier outfits that showed more skin. Especially the blonde, who kept reaching across the corner of the table and touching Jesse.
Lark frowned at herself. Maybe she should just take off. Claim a headache. Not that she needed a reason to bow out.
As she opened the restroom door, she did another little jump. Jesse was standing in the hallway, apparently waiting for her.
He gave her a quizzical look, combined with a killer smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear. “No worries. It’s sort of a daily occurrence for me.”
His expression turned serious. “Did something else happen?”
She’d already told him about the events on Wednesday night, when she’d asked him the next morning to investigate the Eva thing. Shaking her head, she replied, “No, no. It’s been quiet since Wednesday, thankfully.” She twisted her fingers together. “Did you find anything out?”
“I just talked to my mom before I came here.” His eyes raked over her, and he added, “You look amazing, by the way.”
Her heart did a little somersault at the compliment. “Oh…thanks.”
“Is this a line?” a woman asked, coming up behind them.
“Oh, no,” Lark said as she moved away from the restroom doors.
“Hey, Jesse.” A guy Lark recognized from the group came into the hallway. “I just bought another round,” he said, jerking his thumb back in the direction of the table. “I didn’t know if you wanted something different, so just go ahead and put it on my tab. I left it open.”
“Thanks, Russ,” Jesse said, settling a hand on her back. “This is my neighbor, Lark. She’s just finishing her shift, so she’s going to join us.”
“Nice to meet you.” Russ flashed her a smile as he moved around them toward the door to the men’s room. “Feel free to add your order on. Maybe the bartender will give us an employee discount,” he added with a wink.
“Why don’t we go back to the table?” Jesse said under his breath. “I can fill you in on what my mom said when we have a little more privacy.”
He steered her back toward the main room, his palm firmly on her back. The phrase “a little more privacy” kept echoing in her head, and her pulse skittered. How was it possible that just a small touch and a few words had such an effect on her? She needed to be careful. She hesitated, debating the headache excuse again.
“Lark? Everything okay?”
She peered up at him, unable to force out the lie. Instead, she simply said, “Maybe I should head home, and we can talk tomorrow. I really don’t want to intrude on the get-together. I don’t know anyone besides you.”
“It’s fine. I’ll introduce you.”
Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to meet a few more people from the area. She lifted a shoulder. “Okay. You’ll have to help me remember everyone’s name though. There’s a lot of you.”
He laughed. “Well, Russell’s here for the weekend, and he hasn’t seen everyone in a while. And Heather’s good at getting people to come out.”
“Heather?”
He gestured with his chin. “The blonde sitting near the end, wearing blue.”
She didn’t need to search the table. She’d already noticed the gorgeous blonde with the tight sapphire halter top. Of course it was the one who kept touching Jesse. Lark considered asking if there was something between them, now or in the past, but she bit down on her lip. What difference did it make? Jesse wasn’t Lark’s boyfriend. No emotional attachments.
He ordered a beer for himself and a glass of wine for her at the bar, which the bartender, Thomas, gave them on the house. Jesse tipped him well, then led Lark over to the group. He’d been seated at the head of the long rectangular table, and while his seat was still free, there were no other empty chairs. As soon as he brought her over and introduced her, though, the group quickly moved to accommodate her. Another chair was pulled over to squeeze in beside Jesse, and everyone shifted down a bit to create a little more space.
Lark settled into the chair, acutely aware that Heather had lost her spot near Jesse and was currently staring daggers at her. Great. Well, she didn’t know if she’d make any new friends tonight, but she’d definitely made a new enemy.
Thankfully, there were enough people there that she didn’t have to interact with Heather directly. Mostly, she just listened to their funny stories from high school. Jesse shared some fascinating stories from his time overseas, and some of the crazy things that had happened at the clinic. At some point, someone set another glass of wine down in front of her, and she drank half of it before she remembered she had to drive home.
“Whoops,” she said, pushing it away.
“What is it?” asked Jesse. “Is it bad?”
“No, it’s good. Too good. I was having so much fun, I forgot I still have to drive home.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I’m glad you’re having fun. Go ahead and finish it, and I’ll drive you home.” He tipped his head toward the glass of ice water in front of him. “I switched to water a while ago. And then I can fill you in on what I found out.”
She pulled her hair over her shoulder, twisting it into a long coil as she pretended to think. The rational part of her brain was doing its best to shout “no!”, but it was very faint, as though coming through a very bad phone connection. Too many other things were teaming up to drown it out: temptation, the wine, curiosity about Eva.
She turned to him, uncertain. “That’s okay. You probably want to stay late.”
He locked eyes with her, shaking his head slowly. Beneath the table, his hand settled on her thigh.
Electricity sizzled through her, stealing her breath. Oh, God. He wanted to leave his friends. To be with her. Alone. When her lungs began working again, she reached for the wine and took a healthy sip, despite not having made a decision yet on what to do. As she licked her lips, she caught him staring at her mouth. His thumb moved in a slow caress, setting her skin ablaze beneath the material of her pants.
That distant, rational part of her brain struggled to get through. “Um…wait. My car is here,” she said weakly. “I have to work lunch tomorrow.”
“I can run you over, no problem. I have the whole day free.”
She nodded, unable to conjure any more arguments. Besides, getting a ride home with him didn’t need to be a big deal. He was her neighbor. She had been drinking. And, most importantly, he had information she needed to hear, as soon as possible.
He was already starting to stage their exit, letting everyone know he was going to take off soon. Lark sipped her wine and did her best not to glance to her right, although she could feel Heather's anger rolling off of her in black waves.
As they stood up and said their goodbyes, exchanging hugs and handshakes, Lark was overwhelmed at some of the kind words and warm embraces she received. She was genuinely glad she’d stayed, and grateful for their inclusion of someone new. Crossing over to the bar, she chatted with Thomas for a moment and told him to have a go
od rest of his night.
She turned back toward the group, her gaze finding Jesse down at the far end of the table. Heather had made her way down there as well, and as he took a step away, she moved in front of him, reaching up to wrap her hands around his neck. Her cropped halter lifted higher, revealing more of her tanned lower back, and Jesse’s hands landed there briefly as he returned the hug. A thread of jealousy snaked its way through her, and she glanced away.
A moment later, Jesse was at her side again. “Ready?”
She nodded, trying to avoid looking in Heather’s direction as Jesse reached for her hand and led them out of the restaurant. But she caught a glimpse of the other woman’s lethal glare out of the corner of her eye. None of my business, she reminded herself. I just need to get home safely, and to find out what Jesse knows about my resident ghost.
Once they were outside, the getting home safely part quickly pushed its way to the forefront of her mind, mainly because Jesse was gesturing with his free hand toward his motorcycle, parked against the side of the building.
“I have my bike, but if you’re not comfortable with that, I can drive your car and leave it here. I do have an extra helmet, though.”
Was she comfortable with it? She’d never been on a motorcycle. But she trusted Jesse, and the ride home was only a short distance on mostly back roads. A heady frisson of excitement shivered up her spine.
“I’m game,” she replied, chewing on her lip. “But I’ve never ridden on one before. Anything I should know in advance?”
He grinned, raking his gaze over her. “Just hold on tight and lean with me.” He held up his helmet. “Here, put this on. I have a smaller one I can use. But your hair might get a little…wind-blown.”
She smiled, lifting a shoulder. “That’s what conditioner is for.” Unzipping her clutch purse, she searched for one of the elastic ties she usually had floating around. “But I do have this,” she added proudly as she fished one out. Handing him her purse, she twisted her thick hair into a low ponytail as he stowed her bag in the bike’s compartment.
He settled the helmet on her head, then stepped back and appraised her. “It looks good on you,” he said, his voice low, his tone edged with approval.
He straddled the bike, and she followed his lead, clutching his waist as she swung her leg over to sit behind him. At his instruction, she scooted forward, her chest pressing into the solid muscles of his back, her inner thighs tightening around his legs. The intimacy of the connection sent a surge of heat through her, mixing with the balmy air caressing the bare skin of her arms and shoulders.
The engine roared to life, vibrating beneath her, and her heart did a wild somersault. Oh, God. “Hang on tight,” he called back to her, and then they were off, gliding out of the parking lot, racing down the dark road.
She sensed he was taking it slow for her sake, but the sensation of flying, of the warm wind whipping by, took her breath away. She felt…alive. This wasn’t something she could ever imagine being able to do in New York City. She savored the solid strength of his body, the vast expanse of open skies and quiet roads, and the fresh scent of the night air as she clung to him.
Too soon, they were turning down the road to their houses, and he called out, “My house okay? I should probably let the dogs out.”
She craned forward to bring her mouth next to his ear. “Yes, that’s fine.” She definitely didn’t want to discuss anything related to the haunting at her house. Too many weird things seemed to happen when she made comments out loud.
The dogs appeared in the window as they pulled into his driveway, and a smile tugged at her lips. She loved Preston, but it would be nice to have this kind of welcome home any time she arrived. Jesse cut the engine, and she reluctantly released her iron grip on him.
He helped her off and retrieved her bag, stowing the helmets. “What did you think?”
“I loved it,” she replied, her smile growing wider as he flashed her a grin.
“Excellent. Maybe we can go for another ride this weekend. Head up to Provincetown or something. Have you been yet?”
She shook her head, following him toward the house. Bosco’s excited barking rang out through the open windows, and as they passed, the dogs scrambled off the couch to head to the door.
She couldn’t bring herself to say anything more about a trip to Provincetown with him. That sounded like a date—an amazing date—but she needed to be careful. This was going to come down to a delicate balance between what her mind dictated and what her body craved.
An image of Nathan and Brittney flashed through her mind, and her stomach clenched. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “So, what’s the deal with that Heather girl?” Even to her own ears, the question sounded childish and insecure, and she regretted it immediately. But it was out there now, and she needed to know.
He paused, his hand on the doorknob. Beneath the glow of the outdoor light, his handsome features hardened with concern as he met her gaze. “Heather? Did she do something?” His eyes narrowed, a muscle twitching along his jaw.
“No, not exactly. I just got a weird vibe from her.” If looks could kill, I’d be lying dead on the floor of The Boatyard, her inner voice added grimly.
“Ah.” He opened the door and ushered her inside as the dogs greeted them both enthusiastically. Once the initial chaos had calmed, he motioned her toward the kitchen. “I’m sorry if she made you uncomfortable. She’s my ex, but it’s been over for a long time.”
“Does she know that?”
He laughed, sliding open the back door to let the dogs into the yard. He closed the screen and turned back to her. “She knows. I’ve been very clear. We dated in high school, and off and on when I was in college, but it’s been years since then. She’s just…used to getting what she wants.”
“And she wants you.”
Sighing, he shrugged. “I think she just wants what she can’t have.” He opened the fridge door and pulled out a beer. “Want something? Another glass of wine? Water? Warm milk?” he added with a wink that made it clear he was more referencing an inside joke than teasing her.
Her taut muscles relaxed a few degrees, and she struggled to rein in the jealousy clawing at her. What in the world was she doing? Jealousy was an emotion, and that did not fit in with her “no emotional attachments” rule. A change of subject was needed. They should discuss the info she was here for, and then she should get home.
“Lark?” he asked, still poised by the open fridge, brows raised.
“Oh, um…” What the hell. Maybe more wine would help her chase these unwanted thoughts away. “Sure, I’ll have a small glass of wine. If you have it.”
“I do.” He retrieved a wine glass from a cabinet and poured her a glass of white. She filled a water glass at the sink and downed some of that first as he let the dogs back in.
“So…what did your mom have to say?” she asked, leaning back against the island. A sudden memory of him pressing her back against the edge of this counter—while kissing her senseless—surfaced, and she fought to keep the flush from her cheeks.
“Well, she found out a few things, although I’m not sure how helpful it will be. She did confirm that Eva was the person hired to help Martha.”
Her pulse jumped. “Really? Oh, that’s very helpful. At least we know that now.” Neither the lawyer nor the realtor had been able to give her any information on a woman named Eva who may have lived with the Holloways in the 1950s.
“True. How she got here is interesting, anyway. She wasn’t exactly hired. She was a Polish World War II refugee, living in a displaced persons camp in Europe. She lost her family and home in the war.”
“Oh, that’s so sad.”
He nodded, his face grim, and she remembered he’d seen the death and devastation of war firsthand. Her chest tightened. Life was already filled with so much tragedy and heartbreak…why did human beings have to inflict it on each other?
Taking a swig from the beer bottle, he continued. “Apparen
tly, the United States passed a Displaced Persons Act in the summer of 1948, allowing some of the European refugees to settle in America. There were some requirements, like the refugee had to have a sponsor here and a place to live. Religious organizations helped set things up, and Pastor John’s church was involved in the effort.”
“Wow. So she came over here by herself?”
“From what my mother’s friends said, she was technically an adult, but young…18 or 19. John and Martha were her sponsors, and they offered her a place to live in exchange for helping with housework, helping care for Martha, and possibly one day helping with the children they hoped to have.”
Her mind swirled, trying to fit this new information into the puzzle. Unfortunately, the puzzle still didn’t have much structure. Just a bunch of scattered pieces lying around, refusing to connect. She scrunched her mouth, turning the stem of the wineglass in her fingers.
He read her thoughts. “I’m not sure if any of that is helpful in terms of solving the mystery. Because then Martha died, so no one needed to take care of her, and there wouldn’t be any children. It wouldn’t have been appropriate for a young unmarried woman to stay and live alone with a widower, so she was sent to a family in Boston.”
She raised her gaze to his, their eyes locking. “I wonder if there’s any way to verify that.”
“The same thought occurred to me, but we don’t have a last name. My mom’s friends couldn’t remember it, so it’s going to be difficult to track her down. I did a quick online search and looked up how many people came over as part of the Displaced Persons Act, and it’s not a small number. Over 400,000. First we’d have to find her individual info, maybe by using the date you found in the Bible, but I’m not sure the records would include anything beyond where a refugee was first placed. Also, from what I read, those records aren’t accessible online. They seem to be in storage in D.C.”
She sighed, combing her hand through her hair. “Great. Well, I doubt the records would be all that useful, anyway. If she died in some tragedy, it probably wouldn’t be documented in those records. Either something happened in that house, or somewhere else, but her spirit returned to the house. If the ghost is Eva, that is.” She lifted a shoulder. “But I think it must be.”
Ghost Moon (Haunting Romance) Page 11
