Drive Me Crazy

by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  Jaime shuddered beside him. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “The brochure says there are tunnels to most of the buildings in downtown so men could come and go without gossip.” He glanced around at the large parlor, speckled with other visitors looking for a good time, or at least a good story. The building had been restored to look as it had a hundred years ago, except for one wall with glass display boxes showcasing modern sex toys. Tourists studied the displays of vintage underclothes and then meandered toward the lingerie-stuffed gift shop in the former dance hall.

  He wanted Jaime in lingerie in the worst way.

  “This place is freaky, not titillating. Talk about erotic museum fail.” She moved with him but kept glancing back towards the door.

  “You should sit in the window. I’ll go out and take your picture.” He looked beyond the crushed velvet upholstered stools and walls dividing the bay windows into three tiny spaces. Talk about window shopping, men could walk along the street and take their pick.

  “You sit in the window.” The way Jaime could yell in a whisper had him grinning.

  He pressed a hand to his chest. “Are you saying you’re interested in my services? I’m sure we can work out some form of payment. A portrait of you on the bed, perhaps.”

  “Keep dreaming.” She turned away from him and started when she saw the wall of sex toys. “That’s so not authentic.”

  “Actually, erotic aids have been around for most of recorded history,” a woman said from behind them. They both turned to take in her matronly appearance. Her dyed-black hair was coiled tightly into a bun and she wore a period gray wool dress that must be stifling in the heat. “They used to be made from things like wood and bone, and I’m sure you’ll agree the modern equivalents are much cleaner and more satisfying.”

  Jaime blushed at the words, which made Xavier like her all the more. “Did they always have a toy shop here?”

  “Absolutely,” the woman replied. “You couldn’t exactly buy your wife a dildo from the mercantile. And if they had a mistress they didn’t want to burden with a child, buying French letters here was a way to preserve their wives feelings.”

  Jaime furrowed her brow and the woman laid a pale hand on her arm. “Condoms, dear.” Jaime’s dark eyes widened as she began to understand.

  The woman clasped her hands in front of her and smiled at them. “We haven’t raised our rates in a century. For five dollars, one of my girls can help you two explore for fifteen minutes.”

  Xavier grinned at the innuendo and reached for his wallet. Jaime grasped his wrist and turned to face him, her dark eyes sparking with excitement and annoyance. “You’re kidding, right?”

  He tugged his hand and wallet free, handing the madam her due. “You love these living history experiences, J’aime. You were a gold miner this morning and a rancher this afternoon, now you can see how they spent their evenings.”

  Jaime opened her mouth to speak, make an argument. He could tell by the way she’d narrowed her eyes. She didn’t get a chance to start before their hostess pulled a small bell from the folds of her dress and rang it. Three of her girls emerged from the narrow staircase.

  “This is Coyote Cate, Belle Watson and Kitty O’Leary. Y’all can take your pick. I pride myself in offering a variety to our patrons.” All of the women smiled, their cheeks tightening as if they were holding back the giggles.

  Xavier took in the women, their different body types adorned with similar period black dresses with red ruffles, black hats with red feathers atop their old-fashioned, curled hairdos. Talk about over the top.

  “Would you mind if I took a picture?” He pulled the camera from his bag and removed the lens cap.

  “Of course,” replied Coyote Cate, who had to be seventy if she was a day, as she gathered the other women close.

  They gave cheeky grins and he took a few shots, then turned the camera on Jaime’s crossed-arms pose. She snapped her hand out and caught the camera by the lens.

  “Knock it off.”

  He met her dark gaze and spoke to her in French. “J’aime, this was part of the life, an element of the culture no different than the room at the hotel that is still made up like when it was a flophouse.”

  “Honey, I don’t know what you said, but I could listen to it all day.” Kitty O’Leary waggled her penciled-on brows at him. “Where you from, sugar?”

  “He’s from a little place called exasperating.” Jaime shook her head and eyed the women. “No matter what language he speaks, he only says what he thinks you want to hear. Now, which one of you has worked here the longest?”

  “I’ve been here every summer since Maggie remodeled the place.” Coyote Cate swished her skirts, showing off her red petticoat. “My grandmother actually worked here until she bought the farm we still live on. She always said working here was much easier than farm life.”

  Xavier laughed, never imaging the tour would come with a comedy routine. The bell rang again and Belle and Kitty did their best to hurry in the madam’s direction.

  “The ladies here have always had a talent for separating a man from his money.” Cate rustled her skirts as she spoke, flashing the red petticoat. “Gentlemen would come in for a drink from the bar, a hand of cards–never poker, that was only allowed at the saloon–maybe even a bit of music. The player piano provided music whenever our ladies were requested for a dance.”

  “Was that an extra charge?” Jaime ran her hand over the chipped keys of the piano.

  “Our ladies were paid for their time. You might be surprised how much of that time was spent simply being a companion. The miners were a lonely sort, and much of the time they wanted someone to talk to.”

  Coyote Cate led them upstairs and through a few of the small bedchambers, some lavishly decorated to provide a feminine touch to the men living in the bare flophouse, other’s sparse and businesslike.

  He snapped pictures as they went, hoping to catch some backscatter with the flash. Even if he only had one shot with floating ghost orbs, watching Jaime shudder when she saw it was worth it. Why not have a little fun with dust particles?

  “You might have better luck catching her in the Master’s Suite.” Coyote Cate winked at him.

  “I could use all the help I can get.” Xavier moved past a puzzled Jaime, following their guide to the ornate door at the end of the hall.

  “I don’t like how this is going down,” Jaime said from behind him. “I don’t want to actually see the ghost of the madam who founded this place.”

  Cate slipped a skeleton key into the door and unlocked it. She put the key into a pocket on her skirt and turned to face him. “She’s afraid, isn’t she?”

  “Terrified.” He grinned, counting to two before she contradicted him.

  “I’m not afraid, I’m just smart. We had our tour. There’s no need to be heading into rooms that are kept locked.” Jaime wrapped her fingers around his upper arm.

  “Matilda likes her privacy, so we don’t often introduce her to guests.” Cate turned back to the door and opened it.

  Jaime’s grip tightened as she whispered, “I think we’re in a horror movie.”

  Her hand on his arm nearly vibrated with anxiety, her palm growing damp against his bare skin. Behind him, he could hear her sharp, panting breaths.

  “I don’t like this,” she whispered again. “Let’s leave.”

  Reaching his hand back, he molded his fingers to the soft curve of her hip. She stepped so close not even a ghost could come between them. He liked that she found his presence comforting, that he could protect her, even if it was only from her imagination.

  Cate stepped into a blackened room. “Matilda, you have visitors,” she called out as she entered.

  He moved to follow, Jaime squeezing his arm tighter with each step.

  “This is insane.” Her hissed whisper tickled the back of his neck.

  Once they were inside the room, Cate moved back to the door. “She doesn’t think the light flatters her, but hopeful
ly your flash can catch her good side.”

  “You’re not going to open a window or turn on a lamp?” Jaime spoke so fast he was amazed Cate understood her words.

  “It’s better this way. You’ll see.” She stepped back into the hall and closed the door behind her, leaving them in total blackness.

  Jaime squeaked what he guessed would be a scream in someone less terrified. She released his arm, only to wrap her arms around his torso and squeeze like a boa constrictor.

  “It’s going to be fine.” The metallic scrape and click of the key turning in the lock made him wince.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Have mercy, she locked us in here.” The rough edges of her panicked voice made his heart squeeze. Her arms around his middle clung to him like a climbing vine.

  They could scream, bang on the door, break it down if they had to. But there was no adventure in that. He lifted his camera from the strap on his neck and fired off a few shots. The flash illuminated the space like a strobe light.

  He made out the basic outline of the small room–the draped window, small dresser cluttered with frames and four-poster bed shoved up against the far wall. No risk of bumping into anything from where they stood.

  “What are we going to do?” Her stage whisper made him smile.

  “We’re going to wait for them to do whatever it is that makes people think this room is haunted.”

  “Like the freezing air that was blasted into my room at the hotel?” She loosened her grip, but didn’t release him.

  “Maybe.” He turned to face her and she dropped her hands and slipped a finger into the front pockets of his cargo shorts. Apparently, Jaime wasn’t interested in letting him go.

  “How long do you think they’ll leave us in here?”

  “Our fifteen minutes were almost up, so this probably resets the clock.” Anticipation of the possibilities gave him a heady feeling. Ghost sighting or not, Jaime in the dark was always a good time.

  “Fifteen minutes locked in a dark room?”

  He wrapped an arm around her. “Didn’t you ever play seven minutes in heaven?”

  “I spent my high school years babysitting, not partying. Besides, I don’t think I could kiss a stranger. Who knows what their dental hygiene is like.”

  He gave a quiet laugh and brought his forehead to hers. “So you can’t stop kissing me because I brush my teeth?”

  “It’s a side-effect of having a dentist for a father. Besides, you kiss me. I–”

  Her wish was his command. He swiftly brought his mouth to hers, teasing her lips apart with his tongue. Just when he thought she was getting into it, she pushed him away. Then she squeaked in fear and fisted one hand in his shirt.

  “I do not want to make out in the ghost room of a haunted brothel.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “I guarantee this is one ghost who totally approves of kissing.” He chuckled. “It’s probably been so long since she’s seen any action, she’ll applaud and we’ll get a great picture. Plus, nothing we could do would make her blush.”

  “Are you high?”

  “I’m trying to get higher, with you.”

  She huffed a breath so hard he felt it against his face. “You are an adrenaline junky in the worst way. You’d think nearly being stampeded would be enough of a thrill for you today.”

  He needed a thrill of a different sort to make this day absolutely perfect. With one hand, he gripped her hip and pulled her lush body against his. He lifted the camera and snapped a couple of shots in the direction of the bed.

  “Oh, no you don’t. We are not making love on a ghost’s bed.”

  “I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”

  “There is no point in believing either way. If I leave them alone, they’ll leave me alone, whether they exist or not.”

  “Pascal’s Wager for ghost hunting. Interesting.” He wasn’t sure why it amused him that she believed in ghosts, but it did. He’d planned on simply buying the negligee he’d spied on display in the window. But as soon as they learned the brothel claimed to be haunted, he’d shifted gears and opted to play with Jaime in another way. Though he still had plans for the lingerie downstairs.

  “It’s kind of voyeuristic. I bet she’s watching right now.”

  He pried Jaime’s fingers from his shirt and she slipped one under the waistband of his shorts. Right against his skin.

  “Or the owners could be watching with night-vision cameras, trying to figure out just how many people will take this set-up as an excuse for a quicky.”

  “We can’t disappoint them.” He inched closer to her, moving the camera to the side so their bodies aligned.

  “They’ll get over it, I’m sure.”

  He grinned and dipped his head until his forehead touched hers. With his free hand, he slid his fingers down the soft skin of her face, inching along her jaw until he could tilt her chin up. “Don’t you think there is something erotic about being in the dark? Without sight, our other senses heighten. Like touch.”

  He pressed light kisses on her forehead, nose, lips. She drew in a quick breath and he answered with, “And sound.”

  “I thought you liked it with the lights on?”

  She giggled and he kissed her sassy lips. The sweet cinnamon flavor of her mouth had him tasting and touching deeper than he’d planned. “You even taste better in the dark.”

  “You too.” She cupped the back of his head and returned his kiss with a passion only Jaime could muster.

  The squeaking of the bedsprings made her jump. He had to step back to keep from getting knocked in the head. He fired off a few shots at the bed, but knew they wouldn’t come out when Jaime grabbed his arm.

  “Get me out of here!”

  “J’aime, relax.” He held her to him, so close he could feel her heart thundering in her chest. When her breathing slowed, he spoke again. “I think we should check out what is under the bed, so we know how they made it squeak.”

  “Something other than a ghost sitting on it, you mean?”

  “Exactly. Here, you take the camera.” He lifted the strap off his neck and slipped it over her head.

  “Wait, why do I need the camera?” She grabbed his upper arm and squeezed.

  “Do you want to be the one looking under the bed?”

  “I don’t want you to do it either. You took your pictures, let’s just go knock on the door and someone will have to let us out.”

  “Unless the guides tell the tourists it’s the ghost knocking.”

  She shuddered beside him. “They have to let us out.”

  “Of course they will. Now take a picture every few seconds so I have some light to go by.”

  “I don’t like this,” she said as he inched toward the bed. The flash lit up the room and he made it the rest of the way. “And for the record, I hated it when you were stampeded by horses.”

  “Duly noted.” Xavier felt along the quilt, scanning the bed quickly when the flash went off again. He didn’t know what he was looking for, especially in the dark.

  “You should let me plan a day on this excursion of ours.”

  “You would have to stop whining about wanting to go home.” He crouched down and lifted the bed skirt, but when the camera flashed, the light didn’t make it beneath the bed. “Come closer.”

  “I’m too smart to get too close to you or a potential ghost, thank you very much.”

  He turned to face her and found her phone softly illuminating her features. Before he could ask what she was doing, the light from the phone brightened and she held it out to him, a flashlight illuminated on the display.

  “Apparently, there is an app for everything.”

  Xavier rose and took the phone from her hand. “Why didn’t we think of this before?”

  “Because I was freaking out and you were trying to make out. Slows down the synapses. Please, find your squeak-maker so we can get out of here.”

  She lifted the camera to her
face, so he resumed his spot next to the bed. He looked beneath it and found nothing but a prolific family of dust bunnies.

  He stood and pressed down on the mattress, trying to find the squeak as Jaime took pictures.

  Jaime sneezed. “This room is too dusty to be used very often. But I think they’re trying the cold trick from the hotel. It’s freezing in here.”

  No, it really wasn’t. In fact, he found the dark space stifling. Xavier stood up and waited for Jaime to illuminate her position before walking towards her.

  A chill raced through his bones as he neared. No rush of cold air from a vent, but a definite drop in temperature. “Let me try with the camera.”

  Jaime jumped as he reached for her. “Don’t do that. Sheesh.”

  He took the camera and stepped away, taking shots of Jaime as he retreated. In the display she glowed as if backlit.

  “This has stopped feeling scary and just feels silly.”

  “That’s because Matilda likes you.” He’d give anything for his night vision lens. Too bad it was still in Paris.

  “Very funny.”

  “It’s hot over here.”

  In the display he caught Jaime’s expression, brows knit and lips pursed. “We should figure out how they’re doing it and then expose that haunted hotel.”

  “I think you’ve managed to find friendly spirits.” Both times.

  “Stop it. Give me the phone so I can look at the ceiling. I think the cold is coming from there.”

  He changed a few settings and took another shot, grinning as the glow behind Jaime took on a pink hue. Without her terrified expression, it would make a great picture.

  She screamed and ran into him so hard he nearly toppled over. The phone clattered to the ground, the light glowing upward like a vortex. She clutched him with one hand and batted the camera away with another. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her still.

  “J’aime, what happened?”

  “There’s someone else in here. They pushed me.”

  He tried to bend down for the phone, but she wouldn’t let him. He took a series of shots around the room, but didn’t notice anyone or any secret doors. Though downstairs the doors had been in the floor.