“You’re perfect,” he whispered as he gazed at her half-naked form. His eyes shuttered closed as he leaned in and kissed her.
No, she wasn’t. She was too heavy on top and her hips were too wide. Her thighs touched, her jaw was too square to be considered beautiful, and every carb she ate went straight to her ass if she didn’t spend every morning running on the sand.
“I can hear you arguing with me in your head. Stop.” He lifted his face to look her directly in the eyes. “You’re perfect to me. Gorgeous. Sexy. Intelligent. Funny. Compassionate. And I want you. Isn’t that what matters?”
How did he do that? Get into her head. Know what she was thinking and what to say to make everything better.
“The feeling’s mutual, but are we going to stand here all night yammering?” She teased because every nerve inside of her was on fire and her heart beat a little too fast.
Colin trailed a finger down her neck, across the collarbone, along what would have been the edge of her dress before circling her sensitive nipple. His mouth followed the trail left by his fingers and she arched her back offering him every inch. He kissed and licked and gently bit, leaving her crying out for more when he lifted his mouth from her.
The door behind Shay swung open and Colin grabbed her hips to steer her into the room. He backed her up until her knees hit the side of the bed and he lightly held her on the edge, her balance off, waiting for her to fall. She slipped her hands around his waist and up his shirt as she pressed into the hardness of him.
They kissed, and explored, touched, and murmured sweet nothings. He rocked his hips into her and she wrapped a leg around his to hold him closer, nearly sending them both flying backwards. Still it wasn’t enough. She craved the feel of him.
“We have a problem,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“You have on more clothes than I do.” Shay let go and fell backward onto the bed creating space between them. Space that let her reach up and work the buttons free on Colin’s shirt. She tugged at the free edges until he landed on top of her.
He flashed her a grin and worked the shirt the rest of the way off, bringing them into skin-to-skin contact. “This is better, but not quite there yet.”
He planted his hands on both sides and lifted off her, taking away the warmth from his body. Instinctively Shay reached for him, but he’d already dipped his head and started kissing his way down her body. He tugged at the dress and cursed when it didn’t budge.
“Zipper,” she said rolling over.
Within seconds that roadblock was disposed of and he slipped the material down, sampling every inch of exposed skin. When she was free of the dress he sat back and looked his fill.
“Is that a skull and crossbones on your underwear?” he asked.
“They were a good-luck gift from Lydia when she found out about my move down here.”
“They’ve clearly brought me luck because X marks the spot and I’m about to enjoy my treasure.”
Shay didn’t know about Colin, but she certainly did enjoy it when his fingers slid into her, followed by his tongue. She grabbed the bedcovers and let the sensations Colin was producing sweep over her body. Sheer bliss slammed through her, as muscles tightened and pressure built. She released the blanket and reached for Colin, digging her fingers into his hair. The first wave of pleasure hit and she called out his name. He kissed her thigh and stood up.
He looked around and Shay thought he was looking for his shirt. What? Wait, they couldn’t be done. She saw him pat his back pocket, grin and then toss a foil packet next to her on the bed. In one smooth move he was pushing down his jeans and boxer-briefs, but before Shay could enjoy the view he spun around and fell on the floor.
She sat up and looked over the edge of the bed. “You okay?”
“Yep.” He was flat on his back. “I forgot to take off my shoes first. My pants got stuck and then twisted and I tripped.”
She laughed. Probably not the best time, but hey, sex was supposed to be fun. Colin joined her and a few moments later he had his pants, briefs and shoes off and had climbed back up onto the bed to loom over her on his hands and knees.
Glancing down, she gave a low catcall whistle. “Quite the impressive manstick you’ve got there, Mr. Mackay.”
Colin lost it. He busted out laughing, rolling onto the bed next to her and covering his face with one hand. The other snaked around her and pulled her into his chest. “I’ve missed this, laughing at the most inane moments with you. Being able to just be myself and not worry about everything being perfect.”
“But it is perfect, because it’s us, Colin, and life without laughter isn’t a life at all.”
He scooted over so he could lean on one elbow and look at her. “You’ve said that to me before, about laughter and life. It was the first night I met you at the frat party. You had me right then.”
“And then I let you go and we lost all these years.”
“Don’t think of them as lost, think of them as time spent working on ourselves so we’d be ready for now.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead, before running his thumb across her cheek.
“What are you saying, Colin?” She turned her head into his hand and kissed it, hoping to get things back on track. Sex she could handle. Sex she was ready for. More than ready. A discussion about their future? It was too soon to go there. Even though it was everything she wanted.
“I’m ready, Shay—”
“Well, it’s about time, because my lady parts were thinking they’d never get to meet your manstick at this rate.” She reached for him. Trailed a finger down the length of him and grinned as he nudged her legs apart with his knee.
She’d seen the flash of shock on his face when she’d changed the subject. Had she not known Colin the way she did, she would have missed it. He’d been about to go there…to the future, their future. To dreams and plans she’d let go of a long time ago when he’d walked out their door without so much as a good-bye. She’d held on for a while. After all, they were young and in love and nothing could get between them. Then a month had passed and another and another and with each passing day those delusions of how things should be slipped away.
And while she was ready to let Colin back into her life and bed, she didn’t know if she was ready to risk another heartache.
Instead of thinking of the past or the future, she decided to lose herself in the present and focus on the pleasure and not the emotions. And afterward, when Colin had sated her every desire and left her body limp with exhaustion, she tried not to notice the chill in the air, which had nothing to do with air conditioners or ghosts.
Chapter Eight
It had taken Colin another week and half to find a time in everyone’s schedule to revisit Mrs. O’Malley’s place for another team investigation, and then it had only been that afternoon that they’d finalized the plans. The only one missing was Shay, which made the guys happy but ate at his conscience.
He didn’t want to keep it from her. Sometimes things moved quickly and there had been no point mentioning it before he knew for sure they were going. If it weren’t for the large, evening wedding that needed Shay’s skills in corralling midgets, he would have told her. At least that was the story he kept telling himself.
Hopefully when he did—tomorrow—she’d understand.
Or she’d send him to the afterlife.
As it was, he wasn’t completely sure he knew where they stood. When they were at the zoo, he would have sworn on his mother’s grave—if she were dead—that they both wanted the same thing. Then at her bungalow she’d made it clear it was all fun and games and sex. Not that he had anything against an easy affair. What guy did?
But he was ready to put those days behind him and there was only one woman for him. He just needed to convince Shay he was the man she wanted.
“Hey, Colin. Can you check camera three?” PJ’s voice came over the two-way radio. “It’s gone black on the monitor.”
“Will do.”
Colin stepped into Shay’s former room and flipped on the overhead light to find the camera he’d placed and secured earlier now lying face down on the dresser. He looked around the room to see if anything else was out of place. He did a quick check of the temperature in the room and came up with nothing unusual. The readings on the chair in the corner were ten degrees cooler, but when he checked it a second time they were almost the same as the rest of the room. Strange.
He replaced the camera and set a small wooden block under the front to hold it steady, not that it could have fallen lens down on its own. PJ confirmed he could see the room again.
“Keep an eye on that monitor.” He stepped back into the hall, closed his eyes, and let his other senses rule. If there was a ghost in the house, he planned to catch indisputable proof once and for all. Proof he could share with the team. He needed to, for Shay, for Mrs. O’Malley, but most of all for himself.
This was his chance to put his mind to rest, to get proof that there was life after death, and to get some answers. Like why was he attacked in his sleep by some unseen force at his friend’s house when he was twelve? Could spirits even gather enough energy to knock a kid out of bed, or had it been his buddies playing a trick on him?
He stood stock-still for what felt like hours in the hall, but had probably been only a half hour or so, never opening his eyes. Downstairs he could hear Dave and Don moving around while they conducted another EVP session. He’d place money on them being in the master bedroom. A faint scent of mimosa hung in the air, which made sense as the plants grew all over the island. They had turned off the air conditioner, so there were no cool breezes and the temp remained steady.
“Colin, the guys and I are going to step outside and take a break. So far we’ve got nothing. Maybe if we let things settle our friend will recharge and come visit.” Dave’s voice called from the bottom of the stairs. “Want to join us?”
He walked to the top of the landing. “Think I’ll chill out up here for a while.”
“Okay, Mrs. O’Malley is in the living room.”
Instead of returning to his spot in the hall, he went into the bedroom, and swept the beam of the flashlight around. No changes. Except the scent.
The room smelled of Shay’s perfume. He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, instantly transporting his mind back to the bungalow and their last night together. They had laughed and talked about their day along with Shay’s plans for how to expand the kids’ club. He’d tried to bring up house hunting, but she’d shut down on him, so he dropped it and changed the subject to crazy things he’d seen at work. After, they’d made love until she fell asleep in his arms.
It might be time to admit that this thing between them was no more than a passing fling and move on. Maybe actively look into the Santa Barbara job, because he didn’t think he could stand living so close to Shay and not have her in his life. The past few years had been bad enough without her, but at least they’d been more than a thousand miles apart.
His phone buzzed in his back pocket, which was weird as he was sure he’d powered it down. Sitting up, he retrieved the device and hit the button to see he had a text, probably from the guys.
Two words stopped his heart and made him smile.
Miss you.
He hit reply. Thought you’d enjoy the break.
Nah, I like seeing your face before I close my eyes at night.
Careful, that almost sounds like you want me around more.
I think I might… Colin, I—
You what?
The screen went black before she could reply. He pressed the power button and nothing happened. Strange. It had a full charge. Great, perfect time for a power drain. Colin turned on the flashlight, which flickered and went out, pitching the room into total darkness.
A small thunk followed by a louder one had him jumping up off the bed. He hit the flashlight against the palm of his hand and it flickered back to life. Instantly his gaze shot to the dresser.
The wooden block had been moved over one inch and the camera sat lens down.
Again.
Holy crap.
He got out his infrared thermometer and quickly checked the readings in the room. Seventy-two degrees, just like before. Colin walked over to the dresser and his whole body shuddered from the cold. He pointed the thermometer toward his chest and smiled. Sixty-four degrees.
“Finn, is that you, buddy?”
Colin waited the standard ten seconds. “If you’re here, give me a sign. Tap on my shoulder. Knock on the wall or dresser. Just give me a sign.”
Nothing. If there wasn’t a spirit in the room with him, then there had to be another explanation: a lopsided leg, a wobbly floorboard, a draft. Unless he found a reasonable explanation, there was no point sharing what he’d experienced. Colin flashed the beam of light to the dresser legs. The thing sat flat and even. He jumped up and down on the floor. Not a single squeak. He pushed the dresser with his shoulder and the thing didn’t budge.
He aimed the light at the top of the dresser. What was he missing?
His jaw dropped.
The block slowly rolled over to the other side as if it were being pushed.
Every muscle in Colin’s body froze. There was no logical explanation. A wooden, square block would not roll over on its own.
“Shit. Why am I not filming this?”
He grabbed the video camera and aimed it at the block.
“Okay, Finn. I know I’m asking for a lot, but could you do that again? I want to be able to show the team and Mrs. O’Malley.” He waited. It took a lot of energy for a spirit to move items, or so the theory went, so Colin gave him time to recharge.
“Come on, Finn. Do it for Shay.”
He sat there for another five minutes or more, hoping. He didn’t doubt for a minute that he had company—of the Casper variety, but he wanted proof. Indisputable evidence.
Just when he was going to give up, the block moved a fraction of an inch. Finn didn’t turn it over, but he moved it. Colin was as sure of that fact as he was that the sun rose in the east and set in the west.
He gave a little “woohoo” to celebrate, while keeping his camera steady. “Mrs. O’Malley—Siobhan—told us your story, but if there’s anything else you want us to know, I’ve got my recorder on and I’m listening.”
Cold air wrapped around Colin, working its way past the thin T-shirt and jeans he wore and seeping into his pores. Every instinct in his body wanted him to flee or at least grab the blanket off the bed and pull it around him. He held tight, afraid that with one wrong move he’d disturb the precarious balance and send Finn’s spirit bolting.
Questions whirled around in his brain.
“Did you know you were going to be a father before you died?”
“Were you mad about your cousin marrying Siobhan? Is that why you stayed?”
“Was it your choice to stay?”
“What’s on the other side for us? Is there really a heaven and hell?”
Colin waited between each question to give Finn time to answer, not that he could hear the responses with his naked ear. Hopefully the digital recorder would pick up Finn’s voice and he’d be able to hear them on his computer. Colin wanted answers.
Finn had them. God willing, the spirit would share and then Colin could let his own mind rest and maybe help others too.
“Is there anything you’re worried about? Something keeping you here?”
Shayyyy.
Colin whipped around, expecting to see one of the guys, but he was still alone. Sort of alone. Had he really heard Finn? If so that would make twice and both times seemed to center on his granddaughter. Was the ghost worried about her? Or about her relationship with Colin?
“What about Shay?”
As quickly as the cold had arrived it dissipated, leaving him drained and excited over the whole incident. He’d talked with the spirit of a man who had died nearly sixty years ago. He’d seen an object move on its own and he had th
e documented proof.
There was no way he could keep this from the team. He put the camera back in its place on the dresser—just in case—but this time aimed so that the wooden block sat in front where they could capture any movement on the monitor. Colin took three quick photos of the room—something he should have done earlier—and then headed downstairs. The guys would forgive him for breaking protocol when he shared his news.
He looked into the master bedroom first, only to find it empty before heading down the hall and came to a stop in the living room at the sight of Mrs. O’Malley crying.
She didn’t look up. “Your friends aren’t here right now.”
“Is everything okay?” He sat on the chair next to her, wishing Shay had joined them that night.
“Oh, just the problems of an old, sentimental fool. Shay says everything is fine, that’s she’s not upset, but she hasn’t come over in days and now Finn’s left too.”
No wonder she was upset. “But he hasn’t. I was just talking to him.”
“Talking to who?” Don asked as the group came in through the front door.
PJ and Dave gathered behind him, gaze bouncing back and forth, trying to catch up with the conversation.
“We would have been back sooner, but we ran to the Super Min and man, that woman, Charity, is a spitfire. She refused to sell us so much as a pack of gum if we didn’t disclose our business on Mimosa Key,” Dave said.
Colin sat forward. “Did you tell her?”
“Heck no.” PJ ran his hands through his silver hair and shook his head. “But I practically had to phone my wife to prove that I was married. We told her we were visiting a friend staying at Casa Blanca. As I said, ma’am, we’re not here for our fifteen minutes of fame. If you want to tell your neighbors why we’re here, that’s up to you. I’m pretty sure that woman is the local town crier.”
Mrs. O’Malley laughed. “Head gossip monger is just one of her many talents.”
“So who were you talking to?” Don asked again.
Excitement flared through Colin, lighting up his entire core. “The ghost of Finn O’Malley.”
Whispers in the Sand Page 7
