Tall, Dark and Paranormal: 10 Thrilling Tales of Sexy Alpha Bad Boys

by Opal Carew

“Let me just say that what happened last night was not the way I usually do things.”

  He gave her a sideways glare.

  “I came on too strong, but the spirit seemed almost frantic to get her message to you.”

  Thad leaned his forearms on his thighs and laced his fingers together. “You’ve got to understand how difficult this is for me to believe.” He dropped his head. “First, having things going on in the house, then finding out it’s Melissa.” He barely moved, she couldn’t even see his chest rising.

  “I can empathize.” She could almost feel the uncertainty pouring from him. She wouldn’t ask him to try again. He needed time, and he’d have to initiate the request. “But, I should also be getting back.” She stood and walked past him toward the horses.

  He sucked in a breath as if he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

  They rode back in silence.

  ****

  “Stop turning yourself into a hermit.” The woman’s whisper came so clearly into Thad’s head, he jerked awake and sat up in bed. Sweat trickled down his forehead, stinging his eyes.

  “This ain’t right.” In his dream, he’d been at the church cemetery placing flowers on Melissa’s grave. Wind had started swirling around him, changing colors and forming shapes. He’d tried to run, but he couldn’t get purchase on the greasy soil. Then he’d heard the voice.

  Thad snapped on the lamp and swung his legs out of bed. He padded toward the kitchen just wearing his briefs and turned on the light. He thought about flicking it on and off a few times for Sayde’s benefit if she was awake, but pulled a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator instead. It was warm.

  “Damn ghost. Fucking with a man’s brew just ain’t right.” Some days, things ended up room-temperature, other days, everything in the refrigerator froze solid. He waited to see if the specter would reply somehow, but the place stayed quiet. “Guess the nightmare was enough for one night, huh?”

  He walked to the living room and plopped down in his recliner, then turned on the television. A rebroadcast of the local rodeo played.

  Melissa had loved rodeo. He glanced around the room. Was she here watching it with him? The thought sent chills from his spine all the way across his skin. He had to get this sorted out. He couldn’t live like this any longer. It had to end.

  ****

  “Come in.” Sayde opened the door for Thad and ushered him into her modern stainless steel kitchen. “Coffee? Beer?”

  He took off his hat and set it on a bench by the door. “It’s only ten in the morning, ma’am. Coffee’d do just fine.”

  She chuckled. “The way your voice sounded on the phone just now, I thought you might need something stronger.”

  He sunk into a carved wood chair at the big kitchen table. “I probably could, but I need a clear head for this.”

  She turned and frowned at him. “That doesn’t sound good.” Carrying two steaming mugs of coffee, she sat across the table from him. “What’s going on?”

  “Did Madam Ruby tell you anything?”

  She smiled. “No, Cheyenne didn’t say a word, although I was inordinately curious.” She blew on her coffee. “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  He was tempted to share everything; the alleged identity of the ghost, the way he’d freaked out the night Cheyenne was in his house, the nightmare. But with Sayde having just lost her husband, he didn’t want to stir up any unnecessary emotions.

  “Her car’s gone.” Had she decided he was a lost cause, and left for good?

  “She has a court date this morning, but should be back sometime this afternoon.” Sayde leaned forward. “Are you thinking about giving it another try?”

  He held up one hand. “I’ve got questions first.” Picking up his coffee, he sipped the dark brew. “How did you meet her?”

  “We met in Bozeman at a psychic convention. I was going to every table asking for information on Barrett.” She shrugged. “Strange things were happening around the house, and I wanted to know if it was my imagination, or if he’d come back.”

  This was the first Thad had heard about this. “And she was the lucky psychic?”

  “No, she approached me later at the bar. Said she’d gotten a message from the man I was asking about, and that he wanted to tell me he was in a safe place.” Sayde blinked a few times.

  “And how much did she charge you for that?”

  Her lips tightened. “Why are you so suspicious?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be suspicious of a woman who’s going to come into my house and tell me I have a ghost, dance and light some herbs to get rid of it, and charge me a thousand dollars?”

  “Has she sent you an invoice yet?” Her brow lifted.

  True, Cheyenne hadn’t discussed money, and seemed to have enough from her day job.

  “Cheyenne and I have become friends. Good friends, despite our age difference.” Sayde got up and grabbed the coffee pot then refilled their mugs. “She said it was okay for me to answer your questions about her.” She plopped down in her chair. “So, shoot.”

  Madame Ruby had known he’d be asking questions? Of course she would have, the way he acted when she’d shown up and waltzed into his house. But, he’d be a fool if he missed this opportunity. “What’s her story? She mentioned her mother, her work. What about her father?”

  With a snort, his boss flapped her hand in the air. “He’s an heir to some oil fortune, hasn’t worked a day in his life, and thinks golfing in Phoenix is his life’s work.”

  That was interesting. “And her parents are divorced?”

  “No. They just lead separate lives. And Cheyenne had the choice of being rich and spoiled, but chose to work with her mother instead.”

  “And their firm does well?” He knew the answer to that one, but wanted to hear what Sayde thought.

  “They do, and they work a lot of pro-bono jobs, fund a foundation, and host charity events to raise money for just about every local organization you can name.”

  She sounded too good to be true. “And in her spare time?”

  Sayde laughed. “If I didn’t like you so much, cowboy, your smart-ass sense of humor would annoy the hell out of me.”

  He set his elbow on the table and dropped his forehead onto his hand. “I don’t know what to do, Sayde.”

  “Thad, there’s something happening. It’s been escalating lately. You’d like to get to the bottom of it. So what would it hurt for you to let her try one more time? She’s leaving tomorrow. You could have this all over and done with tonight.”

  “Yeah. I know you’re right, but damn if it makes any sense.” He could give it another chance. He’d be prepared for the worst this time, so he wouldn’t go all drama-queen on Cheyenne. “Fine.” He stood. “Have her stop by if she wants.”

  Sayde sat back in her seat. “Will do. And why don’t you take the rest of the day to get that pigsty of a house cleaned up.”

  He shook his head. “Fine. I’ll clean.

  She just laughed.

  Chapter Four

  Cheyenne stepped up onto Thad’s porch at seven that evening. At first, when Sayde told her Thad wanted her to try again, she didn’t believe it, and had made Sayde swear she was telling the truth. The door stood open and she knocked on the frame of the screen door.

  Thad walked toward her, a bag of garbage hanging from one hand and a dustpan in the other. “Hi.”

  She smiled. “Hi. Cleaning?”

  He looked down at his hands. “Uh, yep.” He pushed open the door and held it for her.

  She walked in past him and he tossed the bag out onto the porch.

  Taking a deep breath, she caught the scent of his aftershave, spicy and kind of woodsy. His jeans and button-front red plaid shirt looked freshly pressed.

  “Thanks for coming.” He stared at her.

  Was he waiting for her to start communicating with the spirit? She looked behind him at the white refrigerator. Her business card sat under a strawberry magnet. At least he
hadn’t thrown it in the river yesterday.

  “So, what do we do?” He fidgeted from one stockinged foot to the other.

  She slipped out of her deck shoes, her bare feet connecting with the cool linoleum of the kitchen floor.

  He looked at her toes. “You don’t have to take off your…ah, well. That’s fine.”

  She’d painted them that afternoon on the pool deck behind Sayde’s house. It was nice to show them off to someone. “Mind if I walk around?” She wasn’t picking up anything psychic, which was strange after the urgency of the woman’s contact two days ago.

  “No. Please.” He stepped back and gestured toward the other rooms.

  The dining room hutch held a couple of crystal bowls, but the wood table was bare. In the living room, a red couch faced a small fireplace, and a black leather recliner faced a big-ass television. “You watch sports? Rodeo? NASCAR?”

  “All of the above. Mostly football.”

  She could picture him playing football. He had the big build for it. “College?”

  “Never attended.”

  Her gaze shot to his. He’d misunderstood what she was asking.

  His chin came up an inch, and his eyes narrowed. Was he defensive about not having a degree?

  “No, I mean, do you watch college ball, since Montana doesn’t have an NFL team.”

  He tipped his head down. “I’m a Cowboys fan. Grew up in Oklahoma.”

  “Oh.” He was a long way from home. She wandered out of the room and down a hallway. The bathroom was done in peach and green. “Pretty.”

  Behind her, he cleared his throat. “Sayde let us remodel the bathrooms…as a wedding gift.”

  “It’s very tasteful.”

  “Melissa, that’s my…that was my wife, she worked at a furniture store as a decorator. That’s how we met.”

  Cheyenne looked into his eyes. The hint of sadness that was always present seemed a little deeper today. “How long were you married before she passed?”

  “Two years. She’s been gone five.” He walked away, down the hall.

  He’d been alone five years? Well, not exactly alone, if she was still present here. She followed, passing an empty room.

  He stopped at the last door and stood back to let her enter.

  She stepped in, her feet sinking into the thick white carpeting. A four-poster bed with a mossy green quilt stood surrounded by white furniture.

  “You feel anything?” He stood leaning against the door jamb with his hands in his front pockets.

  Cheyenne had to swallow hard. He was one sexy cowboy, and being in his bedroom turned on some switch deep in her belly. Her exhale had a little sigh with it.

  He frowned.

  A noise from the direction of the kitchen made both of them jerk, then he walked toward the sound.

  She looked at the closed closet doors and fisted her hands, wanting to know what was in there, but wishing to respect his privacy. “Oh heck.” Grabbing the knobs, she pulled them open.

  Only men’s clothes. She breathed a sigh of relief. If she had seen his wife’s clothes still in there, she would have suggested a trip to a grief counselor for him. His few shirts and jeans hung neatly, looking lost in the big closet. Far to one end, a black suit hung next to a white shirt. Funeral clothes. She shut the doors and turned.

  He stood frowning at her.

  Gasping, she patted her chest over her heart. “You scared me, there.”

  His eyes followed her movement, then shot to the closet. His jaw worked.

  Before he could question her, she pointed in the direction of the kitchen. “What was the noise?”

  “Just the trash bag falling over on the porch.” He stood back, gesturing for her to go ahead of him.

  She wandered down the hall. “What about upstairs?”

  “Four bedrooms. Not used.” His words came out clipped. Cheyenne had a burst of sorrow when she imagined how he and Melissa must have planned to fill every one of those rooms with children.

  “If you’re curious, I returned all of Melissa’s possessions to her family after…” He stopped in the dining room. “All except a few things I’d given her.”

  She looked at the hutch. That explained the sparseness of decorative pieces. She padded into the kitchen and stood at the screen door, hoping that would trigger some activity.

  “You want some coffee? Water? A beer?”

  She could use something stronger, like a shot of Jack, but she nodded. “Sure, a beer would be good right now.”

  “Might not be cold.” He opened the refrigerator door and pulled out two bottles. He held them up and smiled. “Ice cold.”

  Oh jeepers, that smile. If she thought he couldn’t get any sexier, she was wrong. A little crooked, it turned his face movie-star handsome. His face sobered. “What’s wrong?”

  Crap, she’d been staring at him. “Nothing. Sorry.” She pulled out one of the chairs from the kitchen table and sat as he twisted the top off the bottles and set one in front of her. “So, why where you surprised the beer was cold?”

  He took a seat across the table from her. “About a month ago, the refrigerator started acting up. Freezing everything some days, then not doing a damn thing other days.” His lip curved down at one corner. “Pardon my language.”

  She nearly rolled her eyes. She used much worse language nearly every day.

  “I looked at it.” His long fingers turned the bottle in a circle on the table. “Had the ranch mechanic look at it, and finally had a service man come out from town.” One brow lifted. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

  Cheyenne tipped her head. “Do you think it’s her?” She hadn’t seen a spirit use appliances before.

  Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on the table. Muscled and dusted with a sexy number of brown hairs, she stared at them a little too long.

  “I figured it was the ghost when it started happening to other appliances, too.”

  Her eyes traveled up his arm, past his big biceps, then to his face. “What happened?”

  “I’d put a frozen dinner in the microwave, and it’d still be frozen after five minutes on high.” He gestured to the oven. “Had a casserole from Sayde’s cook that I put in the oven at three-fifty, and fifteen minutes later, I smelled burning.” He puffed out a quick laugh. “Darn thing was up at five-hundred degrees.”

  She looked around the room, then caught his gaze. “Sayde mentioned the keys in the bowl by the door, and the screen door opening.” Swallowing hard, she made herself ask a hard question. “You know your wife better than anyone. What do you think she’s trying to tell you?”

  “That I should eat out more because I’m a really bad cook?” His lips curled up.

  She laughed. “You must be more than just bad to warrant all this attention.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” He talked about the few meals he’d tried to prepare over the years, and had Cheyenne laughing until tears rolled down her face. When he offered another beer, she accepted, and she shared some of her own cooking disasters.

  The few times he actually laughed, her chest contracted a little at the rusty sound.

  When she finished her beer, she stood. “Well, since there’s no one but you and me here tonight, I’d better get going.” She looked out the window. Pitch black. “Could I borrow a flashlight? I didn’t think of grabbing one before I walked down here.

  He got to his feet. “You walked?” Leaning over, he picked up his keys out of the bowl by the door. “Let me drive you back.”

  “No, please.” She stepped to the screen door. “I don’t mind the walk. It’s so beautiful here, with the stars and…” She rolled one hand around, trying to come up with something else to add.

  Thad picked up a rifle from behind the door. “And night critters that are prowling, looking for their next meal.” He checked to see that it was loaded.

  “Oh, I didn’t think of that. In the city, night critters walk on two legs, and carry knives.”

  “I’ll walk you.” He le
aned close to her.

  His scent filled her mind with warm, naughty ideas as she blinked up at him, parting her lips. Would he kiss her now?

  He frowned and flipped on the porch light. “After you, ma’am.”

  Turning her face away, she hid the warmth that flooded her cheeks. Crap, what an imagination she had. Stepping outside, the cool night chilled her romantic notions down to manageable proportions.

  They walked along the gravel drive in silence.

  A howl came from a distance. In the nearby woods, scurrying sounds startled her, making her lurch a bit, and stumble into him.

  Taking her elbow in his hand, he got her straightened out, but kept his hold on her arm.

  The heat racing through her, starting at her arm and running all the way up and into her bloodstream, gave her chills.

  “Cold?” His voice came close to her ear.

  Was he making his move now? She could see the lights of Sayde’s house ahead. Would he kiss her now, or wait until he dropped her off at the door? Oh lord, those two beers had really hit her hard. She was wanting things she probably shouldn’t even be thinking about.

  But if she was reading him right, and for some reason she was able to read him a little too well, he was wanting her just as much.

  They stepped from the gravel road onto the concrete driveway at Sayde’s house.

  He released her. “Cheyenne.” In the low illumination from a faraway yard light, his eyes glimmered.

  Her intuition told her he wanted her, but was too reserved to take what he desired.

  “Thad.” She stepped close to him, ran her hands from his chest up to his neck and went up on tiptoes, pressing her lips to his.

  For a second, he stiffened, then he opened his mouth, the hand not holding the rifle wrapped around her waist and pulled her tight against him.

  Amazing, his lips felt so firm and hot, his breath laced with beer and sexy, pure man, mingled with his woodsy scent and forced a shiver through her.

  Where their hips pressed together, she could feel a bulge. She touched her tongue to his lips.