Double Dating with the Dead (9 page)

BOOK: Double Dating with the Dead
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“Good.” She went to the table. Her white box wasn't there. She looked in the refrigerator. Not there, either.

“What are you looking for?” he asked as if her moving about was too much noise this early in the morning.

“Doughnuts. I know there was at least one left.”

When she raised her head she saw his guilty flush before he quickly looked away.

“That's really dirty, Trent Sanders. I might be able to let it slide that you're trying to ruin my career, but to eat the last doughnut? That's about as low as a person can go.”

“Coffee's ready,” he said, ignoring her.

She walked over and took the cup he offered. Their hands brushed. Tingles spread up and down her arms. For a few seconds it was almost as if the world stood still. Their gazes locked. Heat flared in his eyes.

They might as well have been standing in front of each other as naked as they had been last night in her dream. He looked at her the same way, with the same intensity.

Go away naughty thoughts
, she begged. It was bad enough she had naughty dreams.

His brow furrowed as though he wanted to ask her something. Then he seemed to change his mind. She wondered what he was thinking. Probably about the peaceful sleep he'd had.

“The coffee smells good,” she stammered, wanting to clear her mind. She raised the cup to her lips, hoping to get any sexual images out of her head. “Tastes good, too,” she conceded. “Thanks.” She turned away and went to the table to sit. The doughnuts would've been nicer, though.

She peeked from lowered lids as she pretended to blow on her coffee. He leaned against the counter, looking thoughtful and not paying a lot of attention to her. Her gaze swept over him. He wore a loosely belted robe, his pajama bottoms and a pair of slip-on house shoes.

Her vision clouded, and suddenly he stood in front of her completely naked. Her hand trembled. She grabbed the cup with her other hand and set it on the table.

But it had been such
good
sex.

Really good sex.

No, it still wasn't right, even if it was a dream. He was the enemy. Damned if she didn't want to take a nap this afternoon, though.

He cleared his throat, but before he could say anything, she continued. “I think I'll get dressed. Meet you back downstairs in about half an hour?”

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled.

“Thanks for the coffee,” she said, taking her cup with her as she left. She breathed a little easier when she was away from the kitchen, and more especially away from Trent.

Good thing the coffee was strong. She needed something to clear her head of the sexy images of Trent running around naked.

Coffee and a nice bath should do the trick.

She grabbed clean clothes out of her room and went inside the bathroom. She set her cup down and reached across to turn the water on.

“You have circles beneath your eyes,” Dixie said before materializing on the counter by the sink.

Selena jumped, slapping a hand to her chest. “Do you have to do that?”

“No, but if I drifted in, I wouldn't get nearly the reaction that I do now. My way is a lot more fun.”

“Unless you cause someone to have a heart attack.”

“You got something against being dead?”

“Yeah, I'd rather not leave earth before my time.”

“So anyway,” Dixie continued. “You do seem awfully chipper this morning. Did you sleep good last night?”

“You're hilarious.”

“Bad night, huh?”

“The worst.” She shed her clothes and slipped into the tub of bubbles, sinking down into the warmth of the water until it covered her shoulders. This was nice. She closed her eyes.

“Nightmares?”

“You could say that.” Her dreams were leaving her more frustrated. Her brow furrowed as she thought of something. “You haven't been fooling around with my subconscious, have you?”

“You know you have free will. Whatever dreams you've been having are your own fantasies.” A wicked smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Have you? Been having fantasies about Trent? I wouldn't blame you if you had. Very yummy.”

“He's my enemy,” she muttered, but she didn't sound as convinced as she had been a few days ago.

Dixie laughed. “I think I'm going to miss you when you leave. We're a lot alike.” She smoothed her hand across her skirt. “It gets pretty lonely with just Wesley for company.”

Selena worried her teeth against her bottom lip. “You can cross over.”

“You're talkin' about the white light and stuff, aren't you?”

She nodded.

“We can't. Not yet. Not until…” She straightened. “It's not so bad here. And if we left, we couldn't watch you and the fella try to get one up on each other. Shoot, that in itself makes it worth hanging around.”

Before Selena could open her mouth to reply, Dixie was gone. So now they were one big joke.

She wasn't laughing.

And what had she started to say? They couldn't leave until…until what?

Chapter 10

“S
he's b-a-c-k.” Trent drew out the words as he stood beside one of the front windows.

Selena came down the stairs. Now what? She glanced at Trent. He'd gotten dressed, but hadn't shaved yet. Probably because she was in the bathroom and all his shaving gear was in there. She should've been really mean and shaved her legs with his razor.

Tacky, tacky. Must be the company she was keeping.

“Who's back?” she asked.

“The witch,” he answered.

“Paige?”

“Your mother.”

Selena frowned. “She's not a witch.”

“I thought she was.”

He was trying his hand at humor again. Not funny. “She's a psychic.” Or at least she thought of herself as one. Mom just didn't quite have the knack for supernatural communication. But her heart was in the right place.

“Whatever, she's heading this way with a foil-covered dish.”

Meddling again, that was what she was doing. She always had to know what was going on. Her mother couldn't leave well enough alone. Of course, that was obvious because of the predicament Selena now found herself in.

Selena opened the front door. “Mom, I thought we discussed you
not
coming by today?”

“It's a good thing I did. You look like you've lost weight.” She cast an evil eye in Trent's direction as she came inside.

“Mom, this is only our third day, and I ate pizza yesterday. I've probably gained weight, if anything.”

She sniffed. “You look thin.” She glared at Trent. “Stress, no doubt. My home cooking will make you feel better. I brought enchilada casserole. I know how you love it.”

Selena sighed.

Ready-made right out of the box, but she guessed if her mother dumped it out, put it in a disposable foil pan, then that was good enough for her because she was sure her mother had added a heaping dollop of love.

“Don't share,” her mother whispered loud enough that Trent was bound to hear. She beamed in Selena's direction as they walked toward the kitchen.

“Mom, be nice.”

“Nope, I'm fifty now. When you reach fifty you can damn well say and do as you please.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded, her bright orange curls dancing around her head. “It's an unwritten law. Everyone fifty or older knows about it.”

Her mother set the casserole on the counter and faced Selena. Selena laughed and hugged her mother. “Do you know just how much I love you?”

“I think you've mentioned it on occasion.” She returned the hug, then moved away, her expression turning serious. “Have you seen any ghosts?”

“There are two haunting the hotel. Wesley and Dixie. They're from around the 1800s as far as I can tell.”

She clapped her hands. “I knew it! I could feel them on that first day. They're very strong. Once you've been a psychic as long as I have, you'll be able to sense when they're around before they make themselves known.”

Dixie chuckled. She was sitting on the counter right next to where Selena's mother stood. Selena cast a warning look at Dixie.

“Don't worry, I won't say anything to scare your mother,” Dixie assured her. “She's kind of cute. Fancies herself someone who can talk to us, doesn't she?”

“Yes,” Selena told Dixie.

“But you're getting better at early detection.” Angela patted Selena's hand.

Carrying on one conversation with her mother and one with Dixie was confusing.

Her mother moved around the kitchen, arms stretched out. “I can feel them now.” She took a deep breath.

So deep that Selena grew nervous when she saw her mother's face turning red. She exhaled at the last second.

“Ghosts from beyond. Neither here nor there. Caught betwixt and between worlds.” Angela spoke in a deep voice, then spun around in a circle.

When she came to a stop, she was weaving. Selena hurried to steady her before she toppled over. As soon as her mother gained her balance, she smiled and raised her hands above her head.

“Spirits, show yourselves to the unbeliever who dares enter your…your…”

“Sanctuary?” Selena supplied.

“Sanctuary,” her mother continued, never losing her momentum. “Show yourselves so he will stop spewing his lies, his evil!” She ended with a wave of her arm, bracelets jingling on her wrists.

Dixie smiled and pushed a packet of sugar off the counter. It landed with a little splat on the floor.

“They're here,” Angela screamed.

This was great. She sent Dixie a look that said she wasn't amused. Then noticed Trent standing in the doorway. Now he would really think her family was off their rocker.

Angela's eyes grew round, and she pointed a finger in Trent's direction. “See and believe!” She then pointed toward the packet on the floor.

Dixie raised her hand.

Oh, no.

Selena sent Dixie a silent warning not to encourage her mother. After all these years around Angela James, Selena knew her mother didn't need an ounce more of encouragement.

“Can you deny the packet fell to the floor?” Angela asked him.

Trent shook his head. “I wouldn't even try.”

Angela smiled. “Good. Selena, get your things and we'll go back to your apartment. We could do some shopping on the way. There's this really big sale at—”

“I didn't say I believe in ghosts. Just that the packet fell to the floor. The way your shawl was flapping around, I would imagine that's what knocked it off.”

Angela opened her mouth, then snapped it closed.

“I'm going to town for a bit,” Trent continued as if her mother wasn't about to explode. “I won't be gone long, so if you see any ghosts, tell them I'll be back in an hour or so.” He sauntered out of the room without a backward glance.

“Disbeliever,” Angela spat with enough venom to make a rattlesnake slither away. As soon as Trent was gone, she turned to Selena with a bright smile as if nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place. “Isn't this a lovely old hotel?”

From hot to cold, that was her mother. And Selena knew her bark was a lot worse than her bite. She'd never met a kinder, sweeter person than her mom.

Selena leaned her elbows on the center island and looked around the kitchen. A row of windows along one wall let in the morning light, casting the room in warmth. Her gaze moved around the room. Beautiful crown molding and tall cabinets with frosted glass fronts decorated the walls.

She looked back at her mother. “Yes, it is beautiful.”

“Do you feel its heartbeat?”

Selena nodded. Her mother didn't have to be a psychic to teach her that each place or object had a life of its own. Some houses emitted a good feeling, like when you stepped through the front door and just knew you'd come home, while other dwellings made you want to leave as soon as you pulled into the driveway.

The hotel had good, strong vibrations. It was a shame it had been let go like it had. There was a sadness surrounding the place. A feeling that it was unloved.

“I feel the heartbeat,” she quietly told her mother.

They walked to the foyer, admiring the fine workmanship they'd uncovered beneath the layers of grime and dirt. Not that they'd been able to clean the whole place. For the most part, they'd only given it a lick and a promise.

“After you leave here it'll probably go back to the way it was. All covered in cobwebs, dirt and grime. A few more years and it'll fall to the ground.” Her mother sighed.

Ouch. She didn't want to think about that.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway drew their attention. They walked closer to the window and peered out.

Not Trent.

Selena walked to the door as a woman carrying a brown paper sack climbed out of her car and strolled toward the hotel.

“Now, who could that be?” Angela asked.

“I guess we'll find out soon enough.” She pushed open the door. “Can I help you?”

Startled, the woman looked up. “Oh, hello.” A smile brightened her face.

Selena returned it. The slender woman wore a powder blue skirt and a white top with a row of ruffles down the front. She had a beautiful cameo pinned at the neck; it spoke of age and a time gone by. The woman could've stepped right off the cover of a Victorian magazine.

She made her way up the steps. “I'm Winnifred Sanders, Trent's mother. I thought he might need some staples.”

This was Trent's mother? There was no resemblance, but when Selena looked closer, she could see a bit of his brother, Tye. She felt her mother stiffen beside her.

“Please, come in, Ms. Sanders. I'm Selena, and this is my mother, Angela. Trent went to town, but should be back soon.”

“Oh, just call me Winnie. I was on my way to the store and thought I'd drop off this food. Trent doesn't always eat like he should.” She looked at Angela. “But I guess you probably already know that since you have a daughter.”

Why did she suddenly feel as though she were on trial? Not that it mattered as her mother relaxed beside her and beamed at Trent's mother. Angela might not like Winnie's son, but she'd apparently accepted his mother.

“Selena's the exact same way. That's why I'm here. I brought a casserole.”

Lord save her from meddling mothers.

“Oh, my, what a beautiful place.” Winnie set her sack down on a nearby table and slowly looked around the room. “I couldn't be here to help clean the day they moved in. My assistant was ill, the flu that's been going around. I had to open the shop.” She returned her gaze to them. “I own an antique store.”

Angela's eyes widened. “Antiques?”

“I've always been fascinated by very old objects. It's almost as if they have a life of their own, like a bit of the last owner's spirit was captured within the piece. Do you know what I mean?” She blushed. “I guess I'm sounding fanciful.”

Angela grinned and looked at Selena. “Not on your life. We absolutely know what you mean. Do you have time for a cup of tea or coffee?”

She glanced at her watch. “Actually, I do. I even have some lemon cream cookies with me.”

Cookies?

Not chocolate, but they'd do in a pinch. Now she knew she liked Trent's mother. But she did have to wonder what Trent would think when he returned. She had a feeling his mother was more open to what lay beyond their world.

Interesting that she would have a son who was such a close-minded ass.

 

Trent turned down the street the hotel was on. He'd bought a few groceries. No big deal. He liked to cook. He wasn't out to impress anyone. Especially not Selena. She'd invited him to share what her mother had brought, so turnabout was fair. He'd invite her to dinner tonight.

Besides, he could take only so much prepackaged and take-out food. He lived on the stuff when he was in the middle of writing a book. His only decent meals came from his mother and her care packages, as he called the food she'd bring over.

It was an entirely different story when he was in between books. He liked to indulge in finer cuisine. So he'd added a bottle of wine to his shopping cart. It was to replace the one he'd helped polish off.

But when he pulled into the driveway, food was the last thing on his mind as his heart skipped a couple of beats. Angela's car was still here. That wasn't the worst of it, so was his mother's.

His very gullible mother.

Oh, hell, they were probably filling her head with all kinds of rubbish.

He came to a quick stop and grabbed the sack off the front seat as he climbed out of his car.

Why was she here? As if he didn't know the answer to that. His mother liked taking care of him. It didn't matter that he'd been taking care of the family financially since dropping out of college. She still liked to cook things for him. Not that he normally minded. His mother was a great cook. He just didn't want her here. Not around Selena and her mother.

He hurried up the sidewalk, taking the stairs leading up to the porch two at a time.

As he went through the foyer, voices drifted in from the back. He hurried through the hotel and into the kitchen, coming to a grinding halt when he saw his mother at the table with Selena and Angela. Angela was waving her hand over a teacup and humming.

“The tea leaves will tell me what your future holds.” Angela stared into the cup. “It looks like you'll have great success in the near future. More than you have now.”

His mother beamed and leaned in a little closer. “Oh, what else do you see?”

“Mom!”

Winnie jumped. “Oh…Trent, I didn't hear you come in. We were just having a bit of tea, and Angela was…uh…”

“Reading the leaves,” Angela supplied with a wide smile as if she and his mother were old friends.

This was just fantastic. His mother had bought in to their game. His accusing gaze swung to Selena. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say they hadn't twisted his mother's arm, but he knew better. Cons worked like that.

“I don't see what it hurt,” his mother said, then frowned. “And I'm sorry, but I think there's more to our world than just our five senses. So do Angela and Selena.”

He slammed his sack down on the counter.

His mother quickly looked at her watch. “Oh, where has the time gone? My customers will wonder why I'm not open yet.” She jumped to her feet.

“It was nice meeting you, Winnie.” Selena stood, as did her mother.

“I need to be going, too,” Angela said, then whispered to Winnie loud enough that Trent heard her. “You have my number. Don't forget to call me.”

This was great. Just fantastic. His mother had crossed over to the enemies' camp. Hadn't she read any of his books? Did she not see through Selena and her mother? Apparently not.

“Bye, dear.” Winnie waved, then seemed to change her mind and hurried across to where Trent stood and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Don't fret so, dear. You don't want a lot of wrinkles. And I really like Selena.” Then in a whisper of her own, “You could do worse. It's not as if you have the women calling you like they do Tye, what with you acting like a hermit most of the time.”

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