by Edie Ramer
Cassie shut her mouth with a snap. “How long have you known I was out here?”
“Just now. I heard you shouting. Why? What’s the problem.” Although he frowned, Cassie saw his lips quiver, as if he was suppressing a smile.
He’d heard them talk.
Bastard.
“Never mind.” She turned and stomped away.
Behind her, he chuckled.
She gritted her teeth. He’d listened to every word she said to Isabel. About enjoying sex, about her four year gap. She clomped down the steps, though he’d probably laugh at that too.
Good thing she didn’t care what Luke or any man thought.
***
Luke strummed his guitar. He’d been on a roll with his evil woman song, but the chat between Cassie and Isabel had changed his mood and his lyrics.
Words popped into his mind, looping through the pathways in his brain while he found a tune to match, slow and sensual. Looking out the tower window at the sunset over the trees lining the driveway, he sang.
“You like sex, I like it too. Let’s get together, me and you. I’ll make you forget your mechanical man. And, baby, you can lend me a hand.”
He kept strumming. The words were middle school level, but they made him smile. Something he hadn’t done much of lately.
Lights blinked on in the driveway beneath the window. He slipped off the guitar strap, slanted his guitar against the curved tower wall, and pressed his forehead against the window, looking down, waiting to watch Cassie’s car drive away.
Even as the coolness from the glass seeped into his skin, he asked himself what the hell he was doing. The last time he’d hung around to catch a glimpse of a woman, he’d been twelve, waiting for Marilee Hutzbender to come home from her cocktail waitress job in the tight T-shirt that outlined her large hooters and a short skirt that showed off her rounded thighs.
A light bulb didn’t switch on in his head, just a Disney-sized lightshow. Pulling back from the window, he slapped his forehead. That was it! Cassie’s rounder face was different from Marilee’s dimpled cheeks and constant smile, but she could be Marilee’s body double.
Christ, he was a dog. Living out his adolescent fantasies with his ghost whisperer.
His sexy ghost whisperer.
“I like sex,” she said in his mind. “I like sex.”
“Me too,” he murmured, watching her car cruise down the driveway. “I fucking like it too.”
***
The sun lowered, day turning into night as Cassie stopped off at the main street diner and picked up a pint of chicken dumpling soup, a turkey sub sandwich, and a slice of pumpkin pie the owner practically forced on her by asking, “You want dessert? The pumpkin pie is good.”
Although dark clouds hid the moon, she knew it must be a full one. If the clerk had said, “You want a penis? The penis is good,” she would have said, “Sure, throw one in.”
But she didn’t need to do that. She had one in her Home Away From Home motel room. She kept it in the drawer by her panties and bras, ready for action in case she needed it, batteries loaded.
And Luke knew about it.
Her breath hyperventilated as she walked out of the restaurant, and she forced herself to slow her breathing down. In and in and in, out and out and out. Slooooooooooowly.
After all, so what if Luke heard her? In tenth grade, Rory Winston, the cute boy in her algebra class, heard her talking to the ghost of a former English teacher who killed herself in the girls’ bathroom. Now that was humiliating.
At her cousin Lauren’s wedding, Emerson, Cassie’s half-brother, told the room in the middle of a toast that she talked to dead people. She’d smiled and laughed along with her stepmother and everyone else except her father, who glared at her as though Emerson’s announcement was her idea.
Her date had never asked her out again.
That had been humiliating.
She stomped down the sidewalk. Why was she thinking about this old stuff? Many people went through a lot worse. She was alive and healthy and had work she enjoyed.
So what if her best friend was a ghost? So what if she didn’t have a husband or boyfriend? She had something a lot more reliable. Hunk never cheated on her and never orgasmed before she did. Always the perfect partner. No messes. No cheating. No semen running down her thighs and onto her bed sheets. No turning over to snore on his side of the bed, leaving her to sleep on the wet spot.
No promises.
No lies.
No disappointments.
Who needed a man? Especially the one she pictured while Hunk was doing his thing.
The last man she’d slept with used her to write a book. Luke would write a song.
All Hunk required from her was batteries.
Any woman’s ideal lover.
Chapter Thirty-two
You’ll have to take care of it on your end,” Luke said into his cell phone. He stood in the mall food court outside the Ladies room, holding pink and lavender bags with store logos while waiting for Erin.
Two teenage girls peered at him, obviously trying to figure out where they remembered seeing him. He turned his head to the side.
“I can’t sue Vanessa for calling her daughter.” His lawyer’s porn-queen voice—at odds with her square, masculine face and incipient mustache—oozed sorrow. Probably mourning the chance to squeeze a few more bucks out of him. “Call the local Child Protective Agency.”
“What will they do?”
“You want the honest answer? Since Vanessa contacted Erin by phone and didn’t make any threats, I don’t imagine they’ll be too upset. If you insist, I can call the agency here.”
“Do it.”
“You’ll have to fax a dated and notarized statement.”
“Do it.”
Erin stepped out of the Ladies room. The corners of her lips drooped even though he’d spent over two hundred dollars on her in the last twenty minutes.
“You’re sure you want to go ahead with this?” Eileen asked. “I can’t guarantee it won’t get leaked to the papers.”
“Shit.”
“I’ll put your Carmel address on the complaint, but that won’t stop the tabloids from dredging up old photos. How long do you think it will take before one of the upstanding citizens of Bliss sells out your new location?”
Erin shuffled toward him, as eager to reach him as an ant meeting an anteater.
“It’s my duty as your advocate to inform you that the simplest way to handle this would be to change your phone number.”
“I don’t like simple.” He watched Erin drag her feet slower with every step that took her closer to him. What the hell was he supposed to do with her? “Forget the complaint. I’ll change the damn number. I won’t expose Erin to the paparazzi. Not again.”
“A wise decision. Even if it did cost me money. See, we’re not all sharks.”
“Sure. You—” Erin’s face lit up. Luke turned to see who or what she was looking at. A trio of teenage girls gabbing, a middle-aged couple wearing green and gold Packer colors eating French fries, a boy with zits on his face sweeping the mall floor, and three families with kids, one with a father built like a linebacker.
The linebacker moved. A woman stood behind him, her back to Luke, but he’d recognize that round ass anywhere.
“Luke?” Eileen’s porn-queen voice sharpened.
“You should be nominated for sainthood, Eileen. Talk to you later.” As he clicked off, he felt a tug on the sleeve of his leather jacket. He glanced down and Erin looked up at him.
His chest felt full, his throat blocked. For the first time in their relationship, Erin had voluntarily reached out to him.
“Do you see?” Erin’s voice trilled. “Over there. It’s Cassie.”
He swallowed the clog in his throat. “I see her.” His voice came out hoarse as he glanced at the woman who’d made Erin’s face light up. She’d made a part of him light up too yesterday, but not his face.
“Look! She’s getting Chi
nese food. Can we get some too? Can we sit with her?”
“Sure.” He wanted to take Erin’s hand and see if this time she wouldn’t pull away, but his hands were full of packages.
One step at a time, he told himself.
They reached the Chinese eatery as Cassie gave her shrimp with fried rice order. Erin wiggled with suppressed excitement. While Cassie paid the cashier, Cassie glanced behind her and gave a pained smile.
“Erin, what a surprise to see you here.”
Erin giggled but Luke grew cold. He saw the truth in Cassie’s face. She’d known they were here before she turned around.
***
“You freaked out Song Boy.” Joe floated next to Cassie as she and Erin pulled out chairs.
Cassie glanced over her shoulder at Luke, who waited for his order while she and Erin secured a table.
“Is Joe here?” Erin whispered, bending over the square table.
Cassie started, then remembered Erin had met Joe. Infatuation at first sight. It had morphed to annoyance, but apparently the infatuation had flickered on again. She leaned toward Erin.
“Yes,” she whispered back, though no one was close enough to hear. “Do you want to talk to him?”
“I don’t know.” Erin glanced to the side where Cassie felt Joe hovering.
Erin gasped, and Cassie whipped her head around. Joe sat in the chair next to her with his mile-wide grin, looking as solid as her shrimp fried rice.
“Idiot,” she said.
His grin didn’t dip. “Sticks and stones won’t break my bones.”
Erin giggled and pointed at him. “You don’t have bones.”
“Shhh.” He leaned forward. “It’s our secret.”
“Okay.” Erin nodded vigorously.
A chair scraped. “What the—”
Cassie closed her eyes. Luke.
“What’s he doing here?”
She opened her eyes to see Luke loom across from her, holding a tray of food containers. He glared at Joe as if he were the devil.
Maybe he was, she thought. A mischief-making devil.
“He’s with me,” she said. “Behaving better than you are.”
Luke set the tray on the table, his scowl deepening. “Stay away from my daughter.”
“You don’t want me to be happy.” Erin’s smile turned upside down. “You don’t want anyone to like me.”
Heads turned toward them. Luke lowered his head. “Erin, you don’t know what he is.”
“Yes, I do.” Her voice pealed out as clear as a ringing cell phone in church. “He’s a ghost.”
Cassie stopped herself from sinking into her chair. Two dark-haired girls strolled toward them, holding purses shaped like shoes, glitter designs on their shirts, their eyes wide and their mouths shaped into perfect circles.
“Hi, Erin,” the taller one wearing purple said. The other girl in green giggled behind her hand.
Erin made a sound deep in her throat, as if she’d been fatally stabbed. And so she was, Cassie thought. Any hopes she’d had of being popular had just been massacred. People who saw ghosts were mocked, not befriended.
She glanced around the table at Luke’s scowl, Joe’s grimace and Erin with her head hanging down, her hair parted in the back, showing her slender nape.
“Erin, don’t you want to introduce your friends to your dad?” Words flowed out of her mouth like the Mississippi River flooding over a broken dam. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Erin’s head jerk up.
The girl in the green looked at the one in the purple, clearly waiting to see what she’d do. Purple shirt bit her lower lip, hesitating.
Cassie stood, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She refused to sit and watch Erin be ostracized. She’d do whatever it took to stop these girls from slapping the word “freak” on Erin’s forehead like an invisible sign.
“You know Erin’s dad is Luke Rivers, don’t you? He used to be in the Dirty Secrets band. Now he writes songs for the Brown Turtles and Angel Fighters.”
Jaws dropped, eyes widened. The girl in purple sidled up to the table. Cassie sagged into her chair as the girls’ voices rose in excitement. The energy drained from her, taking her appetite with it. She glanced across the table and saw Joe was gone.
Just like a man. He could fight world wars and chase criminals with no problem, but blindside him with two ten-year-old social arbitrators—the popular girls—and he was out of there faster than a lit bomb could explode.
“I have to go.” Cassie picked up her tray, her appetite vanished. “Enjoy your meal.”
Luke’s eyes smoldered with a combination of gratitude and irritation. There was no conflict in the trembling smile Erin gave her.
Cassie brushed her palm over Erin’s silky hair and the smile grew, the trembling stopped. Then the girl in purple said something to Erin, commanding her attention as girls like her would always do, and Erin turned to her new friend.
Cassie dumped her water and shrimp fried rice into the trash. She walked away, the smells of Chinese spices, fried chicken, and cinnamon buns following her into the main mall.
A heaviness dragged her soul down. Something strange was happening to her. She was falling in love. Not with Luke. Worse. She was falling in love with his daughter.
She’d closed her heart against children, knowing she would never have any. How had she let Erin squeeze her way in?
Cassie’s mouth firmed. She knew the solution. If she squeezed Erin in, she could squeeze Erin out.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned into the bookstore across the mall, her reason for the mall trip. They should have books about local houses. One of them might say something about Luke’s house and its hidden rooms.
Chapter Thirty-three
When Luke told Diana, appropriately wearing royal purple, that he could ask the lead singer of Angel Fighter to send her an autographed CD for her upcoming birthday, she squealed, jumped, clapped her hands, thanked him and hugged Erin. Over Diana’s purple-clad shoulder, Erin looked at him with something in her eyes warmer than resentment.
“You’ll have to come to my birthday party.” Diana beamed at Erin, her new best friend forever, while the girl in green pouted. “Todd Setter is my favorite singer in the universe!”
“Mine too,” the girl in green muttered.
Too bad. She who has the power gets the perks. He decided childhood popularity wasn’t much different from the music business, both thriving on payoffs.
While the girls chattered, Diana’s mother came and introduced herself. As star-struck as her daughter, she kept him busy for one of the most tedious hours of his life, asking about all the people in the music business he knew. She was disappointed that he’d never met Tina Turner, but excited that he’d met Madonna.
Who hadn’t, he wanted to ask, but didn’t. This was his daughter’s social life. He was the one who dragged her to Middle America. He could’ve stayed in California where having a drug addicted mom was no big deal. It was his choice to move, so he could damn well suffer a little discomfort. In the end, the simpering mother-and-daughter team was better than a gaggle of paparazzi waiting to pounce on Erin, asking about her mother.
When he and Erin walked to their car in the outside parking lot, he was surprised the sun shone brightly. It seemed like he’d been trapped in the food mall with Mrs. Starstruck for an entire afternoon, but when he looked at his watch it was only a few minutes past two.
“Thank you, Daddy.” Erin’s voice was so quiet he strained to hear her.
His chest tightened. “Anytime, kiddo.” He tried out the endearment and found he didn’t feel too stupid using it. More words wanted to come out but were stuck in his throat, where they’d stay until he put them in a song.
In the car, Erin made an inquiring noise in her throat. He raised his eyebrow at her as she snapped on her seatbelt.
Her face colored and she looked down at her lap. “Is it okay if I call Cassie and tell her what happened?”
His cell phone was in his h
and before she finished the sentence. He found Cassie’s phone number and pressed it. All the while he’d been speaking to Miss Popular’s mother, he’d thought about Cassie. Pissed because she called the girls over. Pissed because he didn’t think of it first. Pissed because she kept hopping into his mind and wouldn’t go away.
She answered the phone on the first ring, her voice trembling with the high, thin note of fear.
His fingers clenched on the smooth plastic. “What happened?”
“Luke, it’s you! I just got back. Someone was in my room while I was gone. They searched it.”
“Hell. Don’t go away, I’ll be right there.” He turned the key, the engine humming to life. “Did you call the cops?”
“I’ll do that now.” She hung up.
“Is something wrong with Cassie?” Erin asked, her eyes round.
He backed out of the parking spot. He didn’t want to tell her, but if she found out he lied, that first smile she’d given him might be the last. “She’s okay,” he assured her, knowing she was picturing the ambulance taking her mother away. “Someone was in her motel room while she was gone.”
The stiffness left her shoulders and she blinked twice. “Did they steal anything?”
“She didn’t mention it.” He glanced down at his phone but decided not to call. They’d be at the motel in ten minutes.
“Someone was in our house once—mommy’s house—and took all her money and her jewels.”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Did she call the police?”
“No.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. She looked ahead, her mouth tight, and he sensed tears not far away. There was more to the story, he could see it in the way she hunched her shoulders and refused to look him in the eye. Living with a junkie, she’d seen and heard it all. Probably Vanessa had owed money to someone who collected it through robbery.
He should be glad the bastard hadn’t touched Erin.
He rammed his foot on the accelerator, and the car squealed out of the parking lot. Hearing the tires burn rubber, he shoved down his rage and eased back his foot.
His daughter’s emotions were more important than his ego. He was a dad now, and had to think of her first. He couldn’t be a total selfish bastard anymore.
