A fresh jolt of fear slammed into her as she peered down the hallway. The door to the front room stood open. She always, always kept it closed. Swallowing hard, she squared her shoulders. The ghost had already demonstrated it could manipulate things. The beckoning door was an unsettling sight, but it wasn’t unprecedented. Pulling in a breath, she crept down the hall.
As she neared the room, the sobs slowed, broken by choked pauses. She could almost hear the strangled gasps for air, and her mind carried her back to her own emotional release at Jesse’s last night. A thread of sympathy joined the dread and apprehension roiling through her as she forced herself to peek around the threshold.
Her eyes shot to the far bed automatically, searching for the seated figure she’d witnessed before. The filmy woman was there, but this time she was lying on her side, curled in a ball, her back facing Lark. Morning sunlight shone through the windows and into her transparent form, bleaching the already hazy lines of her phantom body. But slight movements in the shimmering air around her accompanied the soft weeping.
Lark gathered her courage. “Hello?” she croaked past the terror lodged in her throat.
The specter tore apart, like a wisp of clouds melting into the sky. The disembodied sounds lingered for a moment longer, finally disappearing, along with any potential clues.
Sagging against the doorway, she surveyed the room as she resumed breathing. Was that appearance supposed to tell her something? She felt compelled to take a closer look, despite the protests still raging from her internal alarm system. Dragging her feet forward, she crossed the room and stood over the far bed. Like before, the comforter revealed the faint outline of a recent presence. With a trembling hand, she reached down and touched the spot where Eva’s face would have rested.
Cold. Damp. She snatched her hand away, reeling back as nausea churned in her stomach. So, so awful. Rubbing her fingers against her shorts, she slowly backed out of the room, keeping the bed in sight until she closed the door on it.
You’re okay. Sucking in a shaky breath, she hurried down the hall and into the bathroom, avoiding her reflection as she washed the chill of ghostly tears off of her fingers. Reining in her spinning thoughts as she descended the stairs, she tried to focus. Could she conclude anything from this latest episode?
That front room had been Eva’s. And at some point in her stay here, she had been very upset about something. Maybe Martha’s death, and having to leave this house? Or missing her family, and her home in Poland?
Or was this apparition expressing something in the here and now, as opposed to the past? Things had happened that made it clear the ghost could react to things Lark did or said aloud. Was this grief and frustration over the fact that Lark was leaving for New York City?
She jotted the questions on a pad of paper, tapping the pen against her lips as she tried to put together theories in her head. What was Eva trying to tell her? What did her spirit need? She sighed, glancing over at the clock on the oven. Nearly time to leave for work.
Abandoning her notes, she poured yet another cup of coffee, heating it up before she trudged back upstairs to finish getting ready.
19
The dogs raced ahead into the darkness, sensing Lark before Jesse caught sight of her. A thick layer of clouds had moved in this evening, obscuring the sky. Even the nearly full moon couldn’t pierce the heavy blanket, and the woods were a collage of deep shadows and inky shapes.
They met on her side of the bridge, and he swept her into his arms, seizing her mouth in a lingering kiss. God, he was crazy about her. Even her scent was intoxicating—citrus and wildflowers. He nuzzled her neck as they parted, breathing her in.
“This feels clandestine,” she whispered.
“I can live with that.” He took her hand, leading them across the bridge. The dogs followed, their nails clicking on the weathered boards.
She laughed. “How was your day?”
“Pretty quiet, thankfully.” It had been a long day, though, and he’d thought about her through most of it. He’d had a soccer game, so he’d stayed after hours at the clinic and grabbed a quick bite with the guys after. By the time he’d emerged from a shower and set out across his yard, the anticipation had become an electric current. “How was yours?”
“Um…work was fine. But I saw the ghost this morning.” Her fingers tightened around his.
Alarm shot through his veins. “You okay?”
“Yes. I heard it—I mean, Eva, I guess—crying upstairs. In that front room, where I've seen her before. She was lying on one of the beds, sobbing, but when I spoke to her, she vanished.”
He cleared his throat. “That’s…unsettling.”
“It was. But I’m trying to think of it in terms of clues. Like, is there something she’s trying to communicate by showing me that? Right before it started, I was on the phone, talking to a friend about coming to New York.”
A taut wire coiled in his chest. “What?”
“Sorry, I don’t mean permanently. At least not right now. But I do need to get that car back to the owner, and since I switched some shifts around to have Saturday and Sunday off, I thought I’d go this weekend.”
“How will you get back?”
“Well, I’m going to need some kind of transportation. I’m looking into a long-term rental, and I’ll drive that back.”
“Why don’t I go with you? I can drive you back. Then you can rent a car here. It would be much cheaper.”
“Hmm…that’s true.”
“I mean, unless you’re in the market for a Jeep you can take four-wheeling on the beaches, you should be able to do better here, price-wise.”
She chuckled. “Nope, I just need something that will get me to and from work, and maybe the store.” She paused as they crested the hill. “But I don’t want you to have to spend your weekend doing all that driving.”
“I have off,” he said with a shrug. “We can make a fun weekend out of it. You can show me around the city. I haven’t been there since I was a kid,” he added as he slid the back door open for her.
“That would be fun.” She turned to meet his gaze in the bright lights of the kitchen. “But…I was going to stay on Madison’s couch. She might notice if I have a guest.”
He laughed, ushering the dogs in and closing the door against the swirl of tiny moths. “I think you’ve had enough of sleeping on couches. I’ll find us a nice hotel.”
She chewed on her lip. “Oh, I don’t know. Anywhere decent is so expensive. Even for one night.”
His gaze lingered on her mouth, and he lost the thread of the conversation for a moment. He shook his head to clear it. “It’s fine. I make good money, Lark.” When she wavered, he feigned exasperation, heaving an exaggerated sigh. “Also, I get a military discount. Does that make you feel better?”
The hint of a smile broke through the concern on her face. “Well, it would be fun…”
“Good. I’ll even spring for two rooms, if you prefer privacy.”
Her lips curved into a playful pout as she gave him a sultry look. “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of enjoy our sleepovers.”
His blood ran hot. “Yeah?” He raised his brows, taking a step closer to her. “As long as we’re on the subject, I should let you know right now that you’re still welcome to sleep in one of the guestrooms, if you want. And that if you don’t, I’m going to have trouble keeping my hands off you.”
Peering up at him, she ran her palms over his forearms and along his biceps. “We seem to be on the same page.” Her hands slid down his chest, slipping under the bottom of his shirt. “So, no guestroom.”
He caught the sides of her face, lowering his mouth to hers. Heat turned to flames as he deepened the kiss, his body demanding more. Lark. Need built like a violent storm, fierce and unrelenting.
Her hands continued their downward path, stroking the length of his erection through the fabric of his shorts. A groan rumbled in his throat. His stomach muscles quivered as her fingers dipped beneath the elastic
waistband.
Her kisses trailed along his neck, her teeth grazing his skin. She sank to her knees, and a ragged breath tore from his chest.
“If you don’t stop, we’re not going to make it beyond this room.”
She didn’t stop. His fingers plunged into her hair as she took him in her mouth.
Christ, she was killing him. His muscles tightened as sensations rocked through him. Every nerve ending in his body crackled, every second brought him closer to the edge. But he was desperate to ravish her first. “I need to be inside you,” he said, his voice rough with urgency.
They made it upstairs, trailing discarded clothes along the way. Collapsing on the bed in a tangle of limbs, he rolled on top of her, pinning her arms over her head. His mouth closed over her nipple as she squirmed and moaned beneath him.
“Jesse,” she gasped, bucking her hips.
His lips tugged at the sensitive flesh as he held her captive. She strained against him, her head thrown back, exposing the delicate column of her throat. Releasing her wrists, he kissed his way down the taut skin of her belly. Tiny tremors quaked beneath his touch. He nuzzled the inside of her thighs, savoring her pleading moans. She cried out when his mouth moved between her legs, her fists clutching at the comforter. God, the taste of her…he would never get enough.
Her muscles tightened around him as he teased her with his tongue, and his own need built to an undeniable force, snapping his last thread of control. He levered himself over her, locking eyes with her in the shadows, their jagged breaths mingling for an agonizing moment of anticipation. She clung to him, arching her back, attempting to close the distance between their bodies. “Please,” she rasped, her voice thick with desire.
He drove himself into her, and she gasped, digging her fingernails into his back. He stilled, allowing her to set the rhythm, then matched it with powerful strokes. His body sought to claim hers with each deep thrust, joining them together. Violent spasms rocked her hips as she climaxed, and she clutched at his shoulders, shuddering. Her tiny whimpers and moans filled his ears, and he let go, exploding inside her with a fierce jolt of pleasure. Her legs shook as another wave of sensations ripped through her, the faint sting of her nails dragging down his back flaring, then easing. When her hands slid weakly along his slick skin, he collapsed onto her, reveling in the feel of her beneath him, the shared beat of their thundering hearts. She drew in a trembling breath, and he shifted his weight to avoid crushing her.
“You okay?” he murmured playfully as he gathered her into his arms.
“Well, if someone asked me my name right now, I’m not sure I could remember,” she joked, curling into him with a contented sigh. “Other than that, I’m beyond okay. Like, a million miles north of okay.”
“Me, too,” he agreed with a chuckle, kissing the top of her head as she laid her cheek on his chest. Her hair spilled over his shoulders like a soft curtain, and she splayed her hand across his abdomen. “We’re pretty good at that.”
She made a satisfied sound of agreement. As her breathing slowed, she added, “Can we just stay here for a while?”
He tugged at the comforter, pulling the fabric toward him until he found the side edge. Settling it over their joined bodies, he brushed his fingers along her temple. “We can stay here all night.”
* * *
The highway unspooled in front of Jesse’s truck as they made their way back toward the Cape on Sunday evening. She smiled as he sang along to a song on his playlist. He had an amazing voice, deep and melodic. She couldn’t carry a tune to save her life.
Closing her eyes, she savored the peacefulness of the truck’s cab. When they’d arrived in New York City, the throngs of people and the snarled traffic had felt like an assault to her senses, now that she was used to the clean air and open spaces of Truro. She was shocked to find herself slightly overwhelmed by the noises, smells, and crowds swirling through every block. The bustle and energy were still exciting, but somehow, it felt different. More like a destination, and less like home.
Although the trip had been short, they’d had a good time in Manhattan. After returning the borrowed car, they’d checked into a hotel in Times Square before noon on Saturday. Despite the muggy heat, they’d rented bikes and pedaled all around Central Park. Tired and sweaty, they’d returned to the hotel to clean up, and now her cheeks warmed as she thought of the intimate shower they’d taken together. She’d brought him to some of her favorite spots for happy hour and dinner, and they’d ended up at a piano bar at the end of the night. This morning, they’d awoken early to fit in a few touristy activities before meeting Madison for a late lunch.
She’d loved sharing it all with Jesse. But there was one distressing thing she hadn’t shared with him, and it continued to plague her thoughts as she pretended to doze.
She’d awoken in the hotel room in the middle of the night—shortly after 1:00 in the morning, actually—standing by the door, pulling on the knob. Thankfully, the safety lever across the top had prevented her from actually getting out into the hallway—not only did she have no idea what she might have done, but she’d also been completely naked. She’d lingered there as awareness dawned, blinking in confusion, with her heart racing and her mind clutching to the shreds of a vivid dream.
A nightmare, really. It had transported her to her house in Truro, and she’d been frantically trying to get out the front door. Something terrible had happened, or was about to happen, or maybe both. Screams lodged in her throat as her clammy hands twisted the knob, and the same panicked thought blared repeatedly through her mind: she had to get out, she had to find help.
But it hadn’t been her mind, exactly. Lark was certain these were Eva’s memories. One long-ago night, Eva had run through the woods seeking assistance, and Lark’s sleepwalking incidents were echoing the past. And when Lark found herself struggling to escape the hotel room, a terrifying realization set in—Eva could reach her here, in New York City. Reaching her less than a mile away from the Cape house, in Jesse’s bedroom, would not be impossible. She wasn’t safe anywhere.
Should she tell him? None of this was solid, factual information. She was just guessing, based on that uncomfortable feeling of not being alone in her head when she emerged from the dream. But if she mentioned her theory, Jesse was going to worry even more than he already was. What more could he do besides sleep next to her every night? She wasn’t going to ask him to stay up and sit over her while she slept. Could they barricade her in? Handcuff her to the bed? Despite her current agitation, a wicked smile tugged at her lips at this internal suggestion. He might be up for that, but with very different intentions. Restraints designed to keep her from running out into the night in the throes of a nightmare were a lot less tantalizing.
This was definitely more than he’d signed up for. He should not have to be her babysitter. Besides, last night’s dream could have just been her own memory of the dreams she’d had at her house. It was all just so convoluted.
Turning back toward him, she admired his handsome profile as he stared out the windshield. Sensing her gaze, he glanced over and smiled, reaching for her hand. “Good nap, beautiful?”
She made an ‘umm’ noise to avoid an outright lie. Twining her fingers through his, she pushed last night’s incident out of her mind.
20
It was time. John had to know the truth. She’d spent the last few months in a haze of worry and doubt, with hope and fear warring on a daily basis. But Eva was sure now—she was pregnant.
Of course, he’d be shocked at first…although if she understood the biology correctly, this was not an unforeseeable development. As an older—married—man, he must have known the risks. But he loved her, and he’d been insistent, pushing her to show her love for him. Coming to her room in the middle of the night with increased frequency and urgency over the last six months. After the initial surprise, eventually he would accept it, and he would be pleased.
If he came to her tonight, she would tell him. She left her roo
m, padding down the hallway to use the bathroom. Patting her face dry, she stared at her reflection in the mirror over the sink. The morning sickness had carved her features into sharper angles, but the nausea was passing now, and she was starting to gain weight. There was no sign of the glow her mother had spoken of as a sign of pregnancy, but Eva still felt it inside…a new life. A new chance at having a family, after all she’d lost.
As she came out, she heard the door to the master bedroom open, and her heart fluttered as she turned to face John. He closed the door softly, then approached her, settling his hand on her back as he steered her back toward her own room.
Before he could guide her toward the bed, she slowed, turning to face him. Taking his hand, she pulled in a deep breath. “John, I have news. I…we’re having a child.” Flames licked her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze as she pressed his hand to her belly. Her heart pounded as his palm rested on the slight swell protruding beneath her nightgown.
His eyes widened. “What? That can’t be. I’ve been…careful.”
The fiery warmth burning her face spread to a searing heat radiating to every inch of her skin. He always tried to spill his seed outside of her body. But somehow, a baby had taken hold. She had vacillated between labeling it a miracle from God, or a punishment from Him. These past few weeks, though, had brought several Sunday sermons from John that made her understand this was indeed a gift, for both of them. After all, they loved each other.
In truth, she wasn’t smart enough to figure out what would come next, how they would proceed. But John was. He had God’s ear. He had dedicated his life to serving the Lord, and God wouldn’t send them this blessing unless it was meant to be.
Ghost Moon (Haunting Romance) Page 15
