Touch and Go

by Michelle Rowen

  “You think these tears are for you? Honestly, Patrick, all this time I thought you were somebody special, but I see that you’re just another self-involved guy who feels sorry for himself and is looking for answers in the wrong places.”

  “That’s what you really think of me, huh?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I think.”

  “I didn’t ask for us to talk about this now. And I sure as hell didn’t ask for your opinion.”

  “Well, you’ve gotten it anyway.”

  “Maybe you should keep your thoughts to yourself.”

  “You can’t read my emotions, so if I want you to know how I feel, then I guess I have to say it out loud, even if you don’t want to hear it.” Her eyes flashed with anger and her hands were fisted at her sides. He half expected another tropical storm to hit, but nothing happened. Not even a light shattered.

  “Then it’s a good thing I don’t care how you feel,” he snapped.

  “Ditto.”

  “I’m living my life the only way I know how and your opinion is meaningless to me.”

  She glared at him. “Go to hell, Patrick.”

  “You first.”

  He turned away, feeling angrier than he’d felt about anything in recent memory. He never wanted to see Carrie again. He thought he was in love with a woman who was unbelievably horrible and uncaring? What a fool he was.

  He despised meeting Carrie Stanfield in the first place. He regretted doing that interview and thinking about her for two years. He never wanted to see her—or touch her—again.

  He froze in place. What the hell am I thinking?

  He didn’t feel that way. Of course he didn’t. It was as if the poisonous thoughts had been pushed into his head, turning his emotions inside out. He wheeled around slowly, still feeling fury burning inside of him, to see that Carrie was staring at him, anger and confusion in her beautiful eyes.

  “What’s going on with us right now?” she asked fearfully.

  “It’s the curse,” he said softly. “Because I’m not mad at you.”

  “Seems like you are.”

  “Seems like you’re mad at me.”

  “I am. But not this mad. Right now I want to rip your eyebrows off.”

  He almost grinned at that. “The feeling’s mutual. But I know it’s not how I really feel.”

  A shadow of relief moved behind her cinnamon gaze. “Me, neither.”

  “This isn’t Erzulie’s fault.”

  “No.”

  “It’s not Ruby, either.”

  She shook her head. “Not Ruby.”

  He tried as hard as he could to push aside these feelings, but they wrapped around him like a thick blanket. “You’re the new paranormal investigator here. Figure it out.”

  “Don’t order me around,” she snapped, then looked distressed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

  “It was a strong suggestion, not an order.”

  She exhaled shakily. “Okay. Okay, I can do this. Can I punch you first? That might help.”

  “No physical violence, please.”

  “Fine. No punching.” Another exhalation. “The curse seems focused on this hotel specifically. Anyone who’s in love—” She glared at him.

  He glared back at her. “I am in love with you.”

  “And I love you, too, you jerk.”

  “Carry on.”

  “People in love suddenly find their emotions reversed. Honeymooners are bound for divorce. And those who aren’t in love are simply repelled by this place.” She chewed her bottom lip, her brow lowered in concentration. “The resort is owned by a man who was madly in love with his wife, but she died and he’d still grieving deeply for her a year later.”

  “A vengeful ghost? Violet is haunting the resort and keeping lovers apart because she’s envious?”

  Carrie considered this. “I don’t know anything about ghosts.”

  “It’s possible that her anger could be turned outward and used against others.”

  “I don’t know. If what Will says is true, she sounds like someone who loved romance. Could she totally turn evil after her death?”

  “No. Most ghosts act the way they did when they were alive.”

  “There goes that theory.” She paced back and forth, before freezing in place. “Hold on.”

  “What?”

  Her eyes widened. “I think I know what’s happening here.”

  It was as if he could read her expression. He’d been following her line of thinking all along. “It’s Will.”

  She nodded. “Will’s doing this himself.”

  “But how?”

  “He—he said that he thought he was a little bit psychic. I figured he was kidding.”

  “Psychic? I didn’t feel anything.”

  “Can you tell?”

  “I can…well, I usually can.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Before the healing charm.”

  “Would you quit it already with the healing charm?”

  “No, I don’t think I will.”

  “Then pause it. Because squabbling about it right now isn’t doing us any damn good.”

  “Consider it paused. Until later.”

  That was more of a threat than a promise. “William Crane’s an empath. That’s why I couldn’t sense anything up front.”

  “An empath? Like you?”

  “No, if he’s responsible for this, he’s a different kind of empath than I am.” He grabbed her arm so he could pull her toward Will’s office. “Come on. We’re getting to the bottom of this once and for all.”

  When they reached Will’s office they realized he wasn’t alone. Ruby had already arrived and Will was signing the ownership of Violet Shores over to Ruby and her father.

  18

  RUBY PULLED THE SIGNED papers away from Will and slid them back into the envelope.

  “You’ve made a very wise decision,” she told him.

  Diego stood by the doorway, as if guarding the area.

  “We know what’s going on,” Carrie said.

  Will leaned back in his chair. He looked tired. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “Yes, it does. If you don’t fix things, this curse will follow you wherever you go.”

  Will looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

  Patrick stepped forward. So far, this was just a theory, although it was more plausible than anything else they’d come up with since they arrived. “I never shook your hand when we arrived.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t personal. It’s my problem, not yours.” Patrick extended his hand. “Please shake my hand now.”

  Will eyed him, then stood up and took Patrick’s hand firmly in his. “Very well.”

  For a moment there was nothing, then the pain started, radiating out from his head to the rest of his body.

  “Patrick,” Carrie said, concerned.

  “Just a minute.” He concentrated, trying to peel past the layers of pain he was experiencing from the physical contact to get to the truth about Will. It was difficult. While the pain tore through him, he couldn’t get much of a read.

  “Patrick, your nose…” Carrie sounded a bit panicked. “You’re bleeding.”

  Finally Patrick released Will and wiped his hand under his nose to see that she was right. Just one of the unpleasant side effects of using his ability while wearing the healing charm.

  “How long have you been an empath?” he asked Will.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “If I’d shaken your hand when we arrived I would have known sooner.” Patrick clenched his jaw. “But I didn’t. Empaths can’t read each other that well. Maybe a little, but not enough to really tell what’s going on. That blockage would have been enough to put up a red flag for me about your problem here at Violet Shores.”

  Will looked confused. “I’m not psychic.”

  “Yes, actually you are. You’re empathic. But unlike me, w
ho can read people’s emotions and get a sense of what they’re feeling, you’re the opposite. You’re a sender.”

  Carrie watched him and clarity lit her eyes. “That means that whatever he’s feeling he sends out, and it affects others. He can change their moods.”

  “That’s right.”

  “How I’m feeling?” Will frowned. “I’m feeling fine.”

  “No.” Carrie walked over to him and put a hand on his arm. “You’re grieving. You haven’t let yourself heal from your wife’s death.” She nodded at the photos on his desk. “You surround yourself with pictures of her, reminders of your loss. You’re in pain and that’s what you’re sharing subconsciously with anyone who comes here.”

  “Unconsciously, you’ve managed to wrap this entire resort with your pain and that’s what repels people from coming here in the first place.” Patrick felt surprised himself at the real reason behind Will’s problems. “You’re very powerful.”

  “But it—it didn’t affect you and Carrie.”

  “Yes, actually it did,” Carrie said. “But not until you knew we were together.”

  Will swallowed. “So you’re trying to say that when I see a happy couple in love, I send out some sort of empathic poison toward them because—why? Why would I do that?”

  “Because it reminds you of what you had with Violet. And that causes you pain because she’s no longer here.”

  Ruby reached for Diego’s hand. “That’s what happened with us the other day when we fought after being here.” She looked at Will. “Did you know we were together?”

  “I sensed it,” Will said dully. “The way he looked at you was the same way I used to look at Violet.” He sat down heavily in his chair again. “This is impossible.”

  “Sending empaths are rare. Even rarer than telekinetics.” Patrick cast a meaningful glance toward Carrie. “But they exist. And just like you, they’re rarely discovered until their ability manifests itself in a problematic manner. They always feel emotion in a much more magnified way than regular psychics. When you love, you love with your heart and soul. And when you hurt—well, the world should watch out.”

  “It was me all the time,” Will said, stunned. “I thought it was a curse, but I was doing this. I was destroying my business and getting myself more than a hundred grand in debt from buying that summoning amulet.”

  “That’s why you signed the papers?” Ruby’s eyes were moist. “Because of your debt?”

  “Why else would I sign?”

  “Listen, I wasn’t going to say anything,” she said. “But…I found something. Me and Diego. On our way over here just now. I don’t know if it’s of any value, but this necklace was on your beach.”

  She held out the pendant Patrick had seen Diego return to her earlier. A gift from her father and worth a small fortune. He looked at Carrie to see that her eyes had widened with recognition.

  Will took hold of the piece. “You found this on my beach?”

  She nodded. “Somebody must have dropped it. No idea what it’s worth, but I bet if you sold it you might be able to pay off some of those bills of yours.” She placed the envelope on the desk. “And we could forget about this.”

  He studied her for a long moment. “Why would you do this, Ruby?”

  “Just trying to be a friendly neighbor.”

  “It’s very beautiful.” He looked at the necklace long and hard. “And the pendant’s engraved with your name on the back.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders slumped a little.

  He smiled. “Nice try, though. And I do appreciate it, but—” he handed it back to her “—I think it’s time that I finally faced reality. Living here, working here, it’s all been an illusion. It’s me not facing the reality of my life. I’ve been looking for an easy answer, something to fix my broken heart, but nothing’s worked and I’ve paid the price.” He let out a shaky sigh. “It’s time for me to move on and find a new life for myself. I signed the papers and I did that without any coercion. Violet Shores is yours, Ruby.”

  A tear slid down Ruby’s cheek, but she nodded and took the envelope back. “If you insist.”

  “I do.”

  She came around the side of the desk and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you. And good luck finding that new life of yours. I hope it’s wonderful.”

  He nodded. “I hope so, too.”

  Then she moved toward Diego, hooked her arm in his, and they both left the office.

  “Empath, huh?” Will said. “Holy shit.”

  Patrick grinned. “It’s not that bad. You just need some training.”

  “Can you help me?”

  “Of course. I’ll call you as soon as we get back to Mystic Ridge and set something up. There are plenty of books I can send you, too.”

  “With what Ruby just paid me for the property, I think I can take a year or so off and reassess where I want my life to go from here. Lots of reading time available.”

  He stood up and Carrie gave him a tight hug.

  “It was wonderful to meet you,” she said.

  “Even though I manipulated your emotions?”

  “Since I’ve been having some psychic issues of my own, I’m willing to overlook that.”

  “Thanks.” He turned to Patrick. “Thanks to you, too. If it wasn’t for both of you, I don’t know what I would have done. I knew I asked for the right person for the job.”

  The right person for the job. Patrick still wasn’t convinced, but he was relieved they’d figured out Will’s problem. If it hadn’t been for Carrie…

  Carrie.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said to her softly.

  She nodded after saying their goodbyes to Will.

  “So our argument earlier?” he said as they left the office.

  “Caused by an overemotional projecting empath.”

  “Is that all it was?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Maybe not entirely.”

  He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “We can make this work.”

  “Can we?” She looked up at him, uncertainty in her gaze.

  “I know we—” He cringed as a wave of pain swept through him. And he felt something then—sadness, loss, fear, love—coming from her. He gasped and looked down at Carrie’s hand. “Where’s your ring?”

  She glanced down at the finger where it should have been. “It’s gone.”

  He tried holding on a moment longer, but it hurt too much. He released her. “Gone? Where?”

  She shook her head. “Erzulie never said I could have it forever.”

  This should have come as a blow, but it was as if he’d been expecting it all along. The only reason he could touch Carrie was because she wore the ring.

  He laughed humorlessly. “If I still had her amulet, I could summon her and try to convince her to give it back to us. But I guess she’s washed her hands of us once and for all.”

  “This doesn’t have to be the end.”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  She shook her head and went to touch him, but withdrew her hand before she made contact. “Your healing charm—”

  He tensed and placed his hand over it. “Don’t make me choose, Carrie. I’m not your ex-boyfriend. I don’t have a problem with booze. I’m not a druggie. I’m not addicted to gambling.”

  “You’re relying on a piece of faulty magic to help you avoid doing serious and difficult work to get back on your feet.” Her eyes glistened, but no tears spilled. “I get it, Patrick. I know how difficult it would be for you. But people change and they have to adapt to that change. It doesn’t make you less of a man, it makes you more of a man to face that reality.”

  “You have all the answers, don’t you?”

  She flinched at his tone. Sometimes it was easier to wrap himself in that cold exterior than risk more injury by opening himself up. Carrie had opened him up and she’d been able to pick around at his sensitive insides. She hadn’t liked everything she’d seen. He couldn’t exactly blame her.

  �
�I don’t have all the answers,” she said. “But I had to accept my telekinesis in order to get control of it. I think I’ve done that.”

  “You have. I’m very proud of you.”

  “You need to do the same thing. It’s different. I know it’s different. But…” She sighed. “The road you’re standing on has two paths. And you need to choose one.”

  “And let me guess. Only one road leads to you.”

  “How can it be any different? If you can’t touch me…” Her bottom lip quivered.

  She was right, of course. Without the ring he couldn’t touch Carrie, couldn’t make love to her, couldn’t even hold her hand. The thought of never having her in his arms again was physically painful to him.

  And the thought of never running again, never walking without the use of a cane—well, that was pretty damned painful, too.

  Carrie waited for his decision, an anticipatory expression on her face. She was different now. He could see that as clear as day. Before she’d been closed off. She’d tried to clamp down on her ability and not have it be a problem. But opening herself up to the storm inside of her had helped her not be afraid anymore.

  Her emotions were etched into her beautiful face when she looked at him. He could read her easily now; he didn’t need to have psychic abilities. She wanted him to choose her. To be braver and smarter than the last man she’d given her heart to. The one who’d chosen the wrong path.

  “Carrie…” He felt a thickness in his throat. “Kiss me.”

  “But—”

  “It’s okay. Just a quick kiss.”

  She closed the distance between him and gently took his face in her hands before pressing her lips against his.

  Pure bliss. But only for a moment. A wave of emotion and pain crashed into him and he broke off the contact, struggling to keep his expression neutral.

  “I do love you,” he said. “And I’ll make sure you get a really great partner to replace me.”

  “Patrick, no—” Her voice caught.

  “It’s for the best, Carrie. For both of us.” He nodded and stepped back from her. “I’ll go call us a cab. We should be getting to the airport soon.”

  Then he turned and walked away from her. The only pain left was in his chest. He had wanted one last kiss. It had been worth it.