Call On Me (27 page)

Satisfied that
all was well with his furry family, Ghost filled their biscuit
bowls and finally left, locking the door securely behind him, his
last glimpse that of Mauve still doing her mystical cat act on the
hall side table.

The panel van
was all ready, vacuumed and polished, the inside smelling of a new
pine tree deodorant. Bonnie Tyler was singing “Total Eclipse of the
Heart” and it was a cool night.

Perfect.

Or it would be
when Ali was by his side.

He pulled out
of his driveway and into hers, getting out and walking up to the
front door, where he hesitated. Did he knock on it? Just open it
and walk in? What was the protocol for this? Was there a protocol?
He wanted her to feel special, not taken for granted. Lifting his
hand, he was ready to knock when the door swung open and Lori stood
there looking up at him.

“Really?” she
asked drily.

“Ah…” He
smiled. “Yes?”

She rolled her
eyes, turning her head to yell over her shoulder, “Ali, your
date
is here!” Shaking her head, she walked back inside the
house.

He didn’t have
to follow because Ali appeared. His mouth dropped open. Oh man, she
looked gorgeous. Her eyes were enhanced by eye shadow and eyeliner,
darker than she normally wore. Her lips shone with red gloss. And
her dress, damn, but he wanted to strip it off her and explore what
was underneath.

The green silk
brought out the red highlights in her carefully upswept hair do,
the sweetheart neckline drawing the eye to her cleavage, or what
there was of it. Crying shame she’d almost covered it. A hint of
cleavage, also enhanced by a pendant that just tickled the
beginnings of the valley between her breasts. The skirt swept down
her hips to flirt with her knees. A quick glance down and he nearly
swallowed his tongue. She wore black stockings and high heeled back
pumps. The stockings were almost sheer, giving him glimpses of her
skin.

He’d sure like
to peel those stockings off. With his teeth.

Running his
finger around his neckline, he mentally cleared his dirty mind and
smiled down at her. “You look beautiful, honey.”

Those apple
cheeks flushed sweetly. “Thanks, Ghost. You don’t scrub up bad
yourself.”

Holding out his
elbow, he drew her hand through to rest on his forearm.
“Hungry?”

“Absolutely.”

“God save me,”
Lori said from behind them and shut the door firmly, the lock
snicking into place.

Seating Ali in
the car first, he shut her door before striding around to his side
of the car. When he settled into his seat, he glanced across to
meet her smile. “Ready?”

“Yes. I’ve been
looking forward to this.”

So had he,
which was why he couldn’t figure out why he didn’t know quite what
to say. So he didn’t say anything. The drive to the restaurant was
mercifully short and within no time they were sitting at their
allotted table he’d reserved earlier. Not that he’d ever needed to
reserve a table, but still, he wanted this night to be perfect.

“A little busy
tonight,” he observed, glancing around.

“Saturday is
generally date night,” she replied.

“So is
Friday.”

“Yes.”

Okay, this was
awkward. Searching for something to say, Ghost spotted Mrs Swanson
heading their way with menus. “Oh good. Food.” And mentally kicked
himself. Really? ‘Food’ was the best he could do?

“Hello, you
two.” Beaming, Mrs Swanson handed them the menus. “Special
night?”

“You could say
that.” Because what else could he say? No? He glanced across at Ali
to see her biting her lower lip. She caught his eyes and looked
back at the menu she held.

This was not
going well. Not the way he’d planned. Silently willing Ms Swanson
away, he smiled at her. “Thank you.”

“No problems.
You just let me know what you want, I’ll be right over there.” She
bustled away with a spring in her step and curiosity in her eyes.
It would have been okay if she didn’t prop herself up at the
counter and speak to her husband in hushed tones, her avid gaze
frequently sliding Ghost and Ali’s way.

Not really
feeling hungry, he gave the menu a cursory glance before placing it
down and looking over at Ali. She was absorbed in the menu. As the
minutes ticked past, he finally asked, “Taking notes?”

“Huh?”
Startled, she looked up at him.

“The menu.” He
nodded at it. “Have you decided?”

“Oh, yes. Yes.”
Placing it down on the table, she neatly clasped her hands on top
of it and regarded him.

And
blushed.

Okay, that
pleased him. No doubt she was remembering the previous night when,
knowing Lori was at work, he’d snuck over to her house, let himself
in with the emergency key, and pounced her as she’d been doing the
dishes. Man, that table had had a work out. He grinned.

She dropped her
gaze.

Huh. He frowned
a little before remembering that this was a proper date, damn it. A
proper
date. He shouldn’t tease her.

Easing back
against the chair, he sought to introduce a topic. Any topic. “So,
how was work?”

She leaped upon
it like a bee on honey. “Oh, fine, fine. A little busy.” Shame she
ran out of conversation. “And you? How is your book going?”

“Finished.”

“Good, good.”
She smiled.

What the hell
was wrong with this scene? He ran another finger around the inside
of his collar.
Bloody tie
. Why were things suddenly so
awkward? They’d been going out for several weeks. Granted, it
wasn’t all the time, because she worked days and he’d been madly
writing to finish his book on time, but they’d been so comfortable
together, just like always only with added hot sex and a new
awareness of each other that hadn’t been there previously.
Definitely more caring on both their parts, more considerate.
They’d gone to the movies, out to the river for a failed fishing
trip where they’d ended up buying fish and chips instead, chatted
and shared things as they’d always done. Laughed, joked and teased,
the norm. It had never been awkward, discounting Ali’s shyness with
her naked body around him – which, he was proud to own up to, he’d
soon gotten her out of – but their times together had never been
awkward. So what was so different tonight?

This wasn’t how
it was supposed to be. He was supposed to be showing her a good
time, doing the date thing, being the gentleman, wining and dining
her.

To be fair, it
didn’t look like Ali was exactly enjoying herself either, for while
she smiled, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Reaching under the
table, she twitched something before straightening and taking a
deep breath, that smile plastered on her glossy lips.

He didn’t
remember her wearing quite so much makeup before, nor stockings.
Obviously she was trying as hard as he to make this special.

Man up, Ghost.
Be a gentleman and show her how suave you are. God, you do it when
you’re promoting your book, when you’re out in public doing your
author thing. Man up!

Mrs Swanson
chose that precise moment to come over and it was with guilty
relief that Ghost greeted her. “Ah, Mrs Swanson, right on time.
We’re ready to order.”

“Lovely.” She
got out her note pad and waited, pen poised.

Ghost looked at
Ali.

“I’ll have the
steak and salad,” she said.

“Chips?” Mrs
Swanson asked.

“Ah, no.”

Oh great. Ghost
did a mental groan. Ali was doing what he was, putting on a show,
playing a part. This date was going to be a disaster.

“And you?” Mrs
Swanson turned to him.

“I’ll have the
lot,” he said. At Mrs Swanson’s confused expression, he amended
hastily, “The same as Ali, only with the chips.”

“Okay.” She
jotted it down. “Drinks?”

“What wine do
you have?”

Mrs Swanson’s
head popped up, eyes gleaming almost manically. “Wine? How
romantic. Would you prefer champagne?”

“Oh, no.” He
glanced across at Ali again, saw her biting that lip – again – and
rethought quickly. “Actually, yes, some champagne would be lovely.
Ali?”

“Oh yes, simply
lovely.”

Jesus Christ,
if they got anymore politer or sophisticated, he was going to chew
through the wooden table in frustration.

Mrs Swanson
left in a flutter.

But he had to
play cool, do the proper date thing. He owed Ali that, so he
inhaled deeply to steady his resolve and he smiled at her.

She smiled
back.

“So,” he said.
“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” Oh, that was suave. Pull out the
weather conversation.

“It has been
nice, yes.” Ali’s eyes shifted, flickering over the restaurant
before her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh look, there’s Adam.”

Grateful for
something to talk about, including a little gossip, Ghost followed
her gaze and saw Adam standing beside a table. He seemed to be
talking to someone and Ghost studied the woman. A pretty blonde,
generously curved, was looking back up at Adam with – oh boy, was
that anger in her eyes? Okay, he could run with this.
Sorry
Adam.
“Whoever she is, she doesn’t look happy to see him.”

“No.” Equally
intrigued, Ali unashamedly leaned further over the table to get a
better look. “I don’t know her, do you?”

“Must be new to
town.”

“Can’t be an
official visit by Adam, he isn’t in uniform.”

“Hey, isn’t
that – oh.” Ghost cleared his throat and glanced at Ali.

“Chris Smith,”
she said. “Poor girl.”

Adam left the
table, his expression controlled but clearly not happy. He sat down
again and now Ghost could see that he was keeping company with
Matt.

Small town.
Wasn’t unusual for some of the single men to come to the restaurant
for a home cooked meal on a Saturday night. It was well-known that
Mrs Swanson took pity on them and gave them a hearty meal worth way
more than they paid.

Ghost’s gaze
switched back to the girl, wondering who she was and why she was
annoyed with Adam, or for that matter, why Adam was annoyed with
her.

“You’ll have to
pump Matt for info later,” Ali said.

He grinned at
her. “You think?”

She grinned
right back. “Abso-freakin’-lutely.”

They both
laughed, Ali leaning back in her seat.

The ice having
broken between them, Ghost looked at her. “Okay, what’s happening
between us?”

“You mean the
whole awkwardness thing?” Ali shrugged. “This isn’t us.”

Curiously, he
angled his head.

“Come on.” She
gestured to his tie. “You only wear those to weddings and funerals.
I’m not wearing white, so unless this is a funeral…?”

“It’s not.”

“Then for God’s
sake, get rid of that before it strangles you.”

More than happy
to oblige, he loosened the tie, sliding it free and tucking it into
his pocket. “Better?”

“Feel
comfortable in that jacket?”

“No bloody
way.”

It was her turn
to grin. “Then do what you gotta do.”

“For you, honey
of my honey tree of life, anything.”

“Oh please. You
can do better than that.”

“Love of my
life?”

“You’re getting
closer.”

“I demonstrate
much better than I talk.”

“I’ll hold you
to that.”

He leered.

“So while we’re
at it, these freakin’ stockings are killing me.” Ali wriggled in
her seat. “I’m going to the loo and get rid of them.”

“Can I
come?”

“No.”

“I had a
fantasy about them, you know.”

Looking
severely at him, she stood up. “Stay right there, you hound
dog.”

Grinning, he
relaxed back against the seat and watched her thread her way
through the tables towards the toilets. Now
this
was more
like it.

A sudden
commotion caught his attention and he glanced across the restaurant
to see the new girl in town standing by Adam’s table. That wasn’t
so odd, but what had his mouth hanging open was the fact that Adam
had leaped to his feet and was now standing with the front of his
pants soaking wet, an upturned glass lying on the table before
him.

The girl said
something to him, her face furious.

However, her
furious expression wasn’t as furious as Adam’s. The easy-going cop
grabbed her by the upper arm and hauled her out of the
restaurant.

Every diner
there watched avidly, Matt included. Ghost cast him a questioning
look and Matt shrugged.

Ghost turned to
the window but of Adam and the girl there was no sight. Intriguing.
What was going on?

Getting up from
the table, Matt ambled over to him. “Guess Adam has a few
issues.”

“You think?”
Ghost queried. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,
one minute Adam was-”

“Hang about.”
Ali appeared beside him minus the black stockings and a whole lot
less makeup. “You can’t share juicy gossip unless I’m here.”

Matt glanced
between them. “Oh, you’re on a date. There’s nothing to tell,
anyway. I don’t know anything.”

Ali and Ghost
exchanged a look.

“You eating by
yourself now?” Ghost asked.

“Looks like it,
but that’s not a problem.”

“Can’t let you
eat all by yourself,” Ali said. “Hey, Mrs Swanson, can you bring
Matt’s plate over here?”

Mrs Swanson,
who had been on her way with a bucket of ice and champagne, looked
askance. “What?”

“Oh no.” Matt
was horrified. “I can’t possibly-”

“Yeah,” Ghost
said. “You can.”

“We insist.”
Ali smiled at him. “It’s okay, Matt. This fancy date stuff just
isn’t us, so you’re not interrupting anything.”

When Matt
looked at him, Ghost grinned. “What she said. She’s the boss.”

“Shame you only
admit it when it suits you,” Ali retorted.