Kiss And Dwell (20 page)

“
I wouldn
’
t have to lay a finger on you,
”
he said.
“
The way I see it, we can do
any-and everything we want by merely thinking it.
”
His smile hitched back up
toward his cheeks.
“
Granted, I
’
m kind of hoping you
’
ll see that it
’
s so good
that you
’
ll want to move on to the real deal, but I don
’
t mind this as a
starter.
”

“
We
’
re not going to do that,
”
she snapped.
“
I
’
m supposed to help you move on,
not help you—
”

“
Get off?
”

“
Exactly,
”
she said, but her heart was racing, and her panties were wet. That
sensation on her neck had felt so real, as if he was actually nuzzling her
there, nibbling and sucking. Monique wondered if this worked two ways. She
looked at his wide, corded neck.

Ryan
’
s hand slowly moved to that very spot.
“
I guess it does, doesn
’
t it?
”
he
asked.

“
What does?
”

“
This thing between us. It works both ways.
”

Mon
dieu
. Now what was she going to do?
“
I have to get you to cross. You said
you know how I feel about this house, about the family and what we do. Well,
you
’
re right. I might complain about it, but helping spirits cross is what makes
us unique; it
’
s what makes us who we are. And I
’
m supposed to help you, not play
sex games with you.
”

“
Who says you can
’
t do both?
”
he asked, those black eyes glittering with
mischief.

“
What?
”

“
Why don
’
t we compromise, Monique?
”
Ryan asked.
“
I don
’
t want to cross, but
you
’
re determined to get me to anyway. You don
’
t want to play sex games—or
rather, you do, but you don
’
t want to admit it—but I
’
m determined that you
will…anyway. Why don
’
t we both give a little, so that we can both have what we
want?
”

Her throat was suddenly very dry.
“
Care to explain that?
”
she asked hoarsely, as
she continued edging toward the bathroom door, as far away from the handsome
spirit as possible.

“
You
’
re about to go to work, right?
”

She nodded, glad that he seemed ready to talk about something reasonable.

“
So tonight, when your work day is done, why don
’
t the two of us see exactly
what
’
s possible with this whole bonding deal, only going as far as you want to
.

I mean, technically, we aren
’
t touching, but it
’
s pretty damn close.
”

“
That
’
s what you want,
”
she said.

“
Right. I know you want it too, but we
’
ll call that my reward from our little
compromise.
”

“
And my reward?
”
she asked.

“
If you let us explore this whole bonding thing, then I
’
ll explore the
possibility of crossing over.
”

“
What do you mean by explore it?
”

“
I
’
ll let you come up with a plan of action, however you think will best move me
on past that light, and I
’
ll give it a shot.
”

“
You
’
ll try to learn to love?
”
she asked.
“
To cross over before the deadline?
”

“
I said I
’
d give it a shot. That doesn
’
t mean I think you
’
ll be successful. It
simply means I won
’
t fight you every step of the way.
”

Monique thought about that. She really did need his cooperation. And she
couldn
’
t deny that she was wondering how far this whole phantom touching thing
could go. Could she satisfy him by merely thinking about what she
’
d do?

“
My bet
’
s on yes,
”
he said, flashing a deep dimple in his left cheek.

“
You can read my mind,
”
she said, aghast.

“
No, ma
’
am,
”
Ryan corrected.
“
I can
’
t. But I can sense your emotions, and that
one right there had
‘
Can I do everything I
wanna
do to him?
’
written all over
it.
”

“
You
’
re terrible.
”

“
Yeah,
”
he said,
“
I am. But you
’
re thinking it, too, aren
’
t you?
”

“
Thinking what?
”

“
That you
’
re intrigued by the idea of having mental sex with me.
”

“
Well, I mean…
”
she stammered.

“
Go on, admit it,
”
he coaxed.

“
Okay. Maybe I am,
”
she conceded, realizing he already knew the truth. He knew
her every thought, which was scarily disarming. Even so, she wasn
’
t about to let
him have the entire upper hand.
“
But we
’
re going to discuss a way to get you to
cross, too. That
’
s my part of this deal.
”

“
Sure we will,
”
Ryan said.
“
Right after your toes curl.
”

“You still
take walk-ins, don
’
t ya?
”
Dax
’
s
voice carried above the sound of
water splashing in Monique
’
s shampoo bowl.

She looked up from rinsing
Evette
Cambre
’
s
new curls to see her brother removing
his LSU cap to display overly long, chestnut waves that barely allowed his hazel
eyes to peek through.

“
You visited a doctor with that mop on your head?
”
she asked, smiling. She
’
d
been smiling all day, ever since she
’
d seen—and felt—Ryan
Chappelle
this
morning.

“
Hey, I can control it with that gel stuff you gave me, but I
’
m heading to the
beach tomorrow, remember? When this gets wet, I won
’
t have a chance of viewing
the—
”
He paused, then grinned.
“
—beach scenes.
”

“
Beach scenes, my behind,
”
Monique said.
“
You
’
re talking bikinis.
”

Evette
giggled. She was a new mom at thirty-one and had, as her doctor had
instructed, foregone hair color during her pregnancy. In lieu of a traditional
baby gift, Monique had presented a soft pink blanket to her darling baby girl
and a color, cut and highlights to the new mom.

“
I
’
m going to deep-condition you under the dryer before we style it, okay?
”

Monique squeezed the excess water from
Evette
’
s
hair, then guided her to a chair
where a pre-heated pink dome-shaped dryer waited to surround her damp head.

“
Thanks,
”
Evette
said, then smiled broadly at
Dax
.
“
And have fun at the beach.
”

Dax
reciprocated the gesture and assured her,
“
Oh, I will.
”
Then he nodded
toward the vacant table in the nail-sculpting area of the salon.
“
Where
’
s Inez?
”

“
She took the day off to be with her grandkids,
”
Monique said of her sole
employee, a nail sculptor with a penchant for voodoo. Although she
’
d previously
employed up to three stylists and two nail sculptors, during the past year she
’
d
learned that less was more when it came to salons. In other words, the fewer
stylists on board, the more clients she had exclusively. It wouldn
’
t have been a
huge factor before Katrina hit Louisiana, but once the
Vicknair
family had to
pour every spare dime into restoring the plantation, Monique had simply needed
more dimes to spare. The two stylists she had let go had been offered other jobs
at salons in Metairie and didn
’
t mind her honest request that they let her have
the bulk of business here for a while.

In fact, whenever she took a rare day off, she gave her former stylists free
rein of her shop to service their local customers. It had worked out well for
all of them, and they
’
d managed to maintain their friendships.

Monique double-checked the temperature of the air beneath the dome.
“
All right
.

Twenty-five minutes,
”
she told
Evette
, before moving back to her station where
Dax
stood nearby. A home away from home, her personal area at the shop was
complete with a black leather chair, pink styling tools and a large oval mirror
.

It suited the retro theme she
’
d used when decorating the salon, with
black-and-whites of Elvis and Marilyn strategically spaced along the walls,
shiny chrome trim on her styling tools, and black-and-white tiles adorning the
floor. She loved her shop, and she loved it when her family came by to visit,
particularly when the visitors were Gage or
Dax
.

She motioned
Dax
to her chair, snapped a black cape around him, then used the
foot pump to lower the chair
’
s height and put his head at arm level.

“
I didn
’
t realize you were going to the beach with them,
”
she said softly,
fairly certain
Evette
couldn
’
t hear them, but not wanting to take any chances.

“
I could use a trip to the beach, and since my assigned ghost will be with me, I
shouldn
’
t piss off our grandmother by leaving town. It
’
s tough to take a real
vacation when you may have to get back pronto,
”
he said.
“
You know. You live it,
too. This is a can
’
t-miss opportunity, and I
’
m not gonna miss it.
”

“
I can
’
t remember the last time I left town. Did you get off work?
”

“
Taking a week
’
s vacation,
”
he said.
“
And Nan even told me to go. Said I
’
d
probably work harder around the house after I rested up for a week.
”

“
That
’
s Nanette, always trying to figure out how she can get more work out of
you,
”
Monique said.
“
So, how do you plan to get Chloe
’
s parents to believe that
you
’
ve talked to their daughter?
”

Dax
grinned.
“
I asked Chloe what I could tell them that would let them know I
had talked to her. She couldn
’
t think of anything, so Celeste chatted with her
to try to figure something out. I mean, she
’
s only six,
”
he said, shrugging.
“
It
was a tough question for a six-year-old. But Celeste got her to talking and
found out about the special way Chloe sucked her fingers when she was a baby
.

She said her parents still laughed about it often. She didn
’
t suck her thumb;
she sucked her middle two fingers, so it looked like the hook-
’
em-horns symbol
for the University of Texas, except the bent fingers were in her mouth.
”