Ghost for Sale. Sandra Cox

don’t know what you mean.”

      “For one thing, the way you’ve been flapping your arms around like a deranged chicken. Never mind. Clayton has that effect.”

      Liam hadn’t moved. I twitched my head to the left. Finally, he shrugged, put his hand on the side of the car, and leaped into the back seat of the convertible.

      Marcy barreled out of the drive and tore down the lane.

      “Holy Mary, Mother of God.” The words were a whisper on the wind.

      I squelched a giggle, and Marcy threw me a perplexed look.

      When her attention turned back to the road, I threw a quick glance at Liam. His jaw was clenched, and his fingers dug into the leather upholstery. He looked white as a ghost. The mental analogy hit me and I laughed.

      “Did you break into Daddy’s liquor cabinet?” Marcy demanded. She cut me a look before she turned her attention back to traffic. A jeep drew alongside. The good-looking guy in the passenger seat winked at Marcy before the sport utility vehicle zipped around and cut in front of her. For a moment, she lost her train of thought, but not for long. “Well?”

      “Well what?”

      “Did you bribe Lulu to bring you a bottle of Daddy’s finest?”

      “No! I haven’t touched a drop. I haven’t broken into Uncle Leon’s liquor cabinet. And I haven’t coerced Lulu to do so either.” I huffed and flopped back against the seat.

      Lulu was my aunt and uncle’s long suffering, but well-paid, housekeeper who now had the extra duty of cleaning up after us. Marcy’s parents had allowed us to move into their guesthouse until college started in the fall. No way would I screw up that arrangement by taking further advantage of their generosity.

      “Hope you haven’t been smoking anything. Mommy and Daddy would have a cow.” Marcy pulled up to the stoplight and waited for the light to turn green.

      “You know I never use drugs You’ve said yourself I’m so straight arrow I’m boring.”

      “No, what I said was it wouldn’t hurt you to loosen up occasionally.”

      Heat burned my cheeks. No way was I discussing this in front of a ghostly stranger. I lapsed into silence before pulling my compact out of my purse and angling it where I could see Liam. Our eyes met. A sizzle of attraction jolted me right down to my sandal-shod toes.

      I leaned my head against the headrest and closed my eyes, breaking contact. The whole situation was bizarre. My cousin had bought a ghost off eBay, and I was attracted to him. Whether he was real or a figment of my imagination, I was drawn to him.

      Then again, what red-blooded girl wouldn’t be? Even one who up to this point hadn’t been tempted to do the mattress-mambo with any guy.

      His thick hair hung nearly to his shoulders. His cheeks were high-boned and his nose hawk-like. Perfectly kissable lips. Not too thick. Not too thin. Yummy.

      Before I could continue my inventory, Marcy broke in on my thoughts. “We’re here.”

      I opened my eyes. With typical VanLier luck, Marcy had found a parking spot right in front of Jimmy’s.

      “I’d give my black and tan stilettos, and throw in my orange polka dot sandals if I could parallel park half as well as you do.” The nose of the Corvette was a mere six inches from the bumper of the car in front of us.

      “It’s a gift.” She waved her hand in an airy gesture and opened the door. The rose-peach polish glistened in the lamplight.

      “Don’t I know it.”

      Liam leaped out of the car and opened my door. I hurriedly put my hand on the handle to make it look like I’d pushed it open. I might as well not have bothered. Marcy was already heading for the entrance. In the blink of an eye, Liam was in front of her and threw open the heavy wooden door.

      I swallowed a groan.

      She turned to me. “They must have installed automatic door openers since the last time I was here.”

      “Must have,” I said to her. “Don’t,” I mouthed to Liam.

      He shrugged. “I’m a gentleman.” As he held the door, someone came down the stairs from the tap room. He sniffed the air, and a look of rapture crossed his face. “Ale.”

      I sidled up to him and whispered out of the corner of my mouth. “Jimmy’s is an Irish pub. Downstairs is for the under twenty-one crowd. Second floor, Jimmy serves ale and stronger beverages. Did you notice the separate entrances for the downstairs and upstairs?”

      Liam nodded.

      “Jimmy can sniff out a fake I.D. a mile away. By the way, can you drink or eat?”

      “I don’t know. This is my first time around. But I don’t think so.” For a moment, his sensual lips drooped before he shook off the disappointment and smiled. My knees went weak. “You’ll just have to have a libation for both of us.”

      “Not at Jimmy’s I won’t,” I mumbled in a low undertone.

      He gave me a confused look. “Why not? And what is a fake I.D.?”

      I slapped my forehead. “That’s right. There were no laws against drinking if you were underage in your time, were there?”

      “Underage?”

      “No one under twenty-one can legally drink, so most kids under twenty-one try to find a way around the law, hence the fake I.D.’s. Marcy and I tried to sneak into Jimmy’s once. Not only did we get busted, Jimmy called our parents. Just let me say, it isn’t one of my better memories. There’s nothing like disappointed parents to make you feel like pond scum. But even without alcohol, Jimmy’s is always hopping,” I said behind my hand.

      “Did you say something, Cat?” Marcy called over her shoulder.

      “I think there’s an open table up and over to our right,” I yelled back.

      “Oh, yeah, I see it.”

      We pushed our way through the crowd to the open table. Marcy sat across from me, and her ghost slid into the chair beside me. When three men and a woman walked on stage, the crowd broke into applause and whistled.

      “GRIT’s playing,” I yelled to Marcy.

      “Cool,” she hollered back.

      The guitarist, wearing jeans that rode loose on his hips and a vest with no shirt under it, picked up his guitar, turned on the amp, and tuned up. Liam clapped his hands over his ears, a look of horrified fascination on his face. His gaze traveled from the band to the young women who stood in front of the stage. His eyes crossed when a buxom blonde in a tight, low tee with hip-hugging designer jeans turned in our direction.

      “There’s Kendra.” Marcy pointed at the blonde. She waved and motioned her over.

      Kendra pulled out the chair that Liam was sitting in. Uh-oh. She’d barely settled in when she shrieked and jumped up, rubbing her rear. “Someone pinched me!”

      Marcy rolled her eyes. “Is there a full moon tonight? Caitlin’s been acting odd all evening and now you. The place is packed, but there’s no one within pinching distance.”

      “I’m telling you someone pinched me.” Kendra rubbed her right cheek.

      “She sat on me. What do you expect?” Liam shouted above the music.

      Gentleman, huh?

      “I’ll take a virgin wine fizz,” I told the waitress who’d stopped to take our order. Kendra and Marcy ordered the same.

      As they chatted, I put on my rapt-attention face and let my thoughts wander. What was the matter with me? I’d been carrying on a conversation with a ghost as if it were an everyday occurrence. Why wasn’t I locked in my room, shaking like a leaf? Or having hysterics?

      Maybe