Ghost for Sale. Sandra Cox

her head.

      “You’re involved with somebody?” He gave me a rueful smile, a look of comical dismay on his features.

      “We’re not an item.”

      “Glad to hear it. I’ll call.”

      “Okay.” Before I could say more, Marcy tugged me away. As we hit the door, I stopped and gave one last sweep of the room. Where is he? My pulse increased, and I started to panic.

      “Come on.” Marcy pulled me through the door. “Would you mind driving?” she asked, taking her keys out of her tiny black purse to toss them at me.

      “Sure.”

      As we reached the car, my breath went out in a whoosh. Arms and legs crossed, Liam leaned against the shiny Corvette. The street lamp limned his high sharp cheekbones and sparked the blue highlights in his hair. Plain black cotton trousers framed long legs. My heart tightened and my bones loosened. He was just so darn pretty, in a manly-man sort of way.

      His stormy eyes shifted to me. He stared, unsmiling.

      The ghost was still in a snit. Well fine, I was in a bit of a snit myself.

      We drove home in silence. I glanced in the rearview mirror. Liam stared straight ahead, his arms crossed, pensive. At least he wasn’t white knuckling the side of the car. How strange this must seem to him.

      I surfed the satellite radio till I found a channel that played old Irish ballads.

      A beatific expression came over his face, making my breath catch. How could a man be so good-looking? Maybe it was a ghost thing. His expression changed to one of abject terror. “Watch out,” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

      I turned the wheel sharply to the right, just missing a little old lady driving a bright red sports car. She laid on her horn and stuck her third digit out the window.

      Liam stared, his gorgeous mouth open. I think a senior citizen giving me the finger shocked him worse than my driving. After that, my attention stayed on the road, and I drove as sedately as a Sunday driver out to enjoy the countryside. Marcy snored softly beside me.

      I hit the remote and pulled into the garage. Liam’s eyes widened as the garage door rolled up. “Isn’t that something?” He shook his head.

      “Yeah,” I whispered, then gently nudged Marcy. “We’re home.”

      “Um-hm. Goodnight. I’m going to bed.” She stumbled out of the car and into the house.

      I collected my purse and followed.

      Suddenly, he appeared in front of me, filling the entryway, his shadow dark and menacing on the wall. My heart gave a little thud. Should I be afraid?

      Chapter 3

      “I wish I could have danced with you.”

      Whatever I’d expected, it wasn’t this. “I wish you could have too.” The words slipped out before my brain had a chance to formulate them. Disturbed, I slid past him. “I’m going to bed. Remember the bathroom is off limits, and no watching while Marcy or I dress or undress.”

      “I’m not a peeping Tom.” He drew himself up, practically quivering with outrage.

      “And how would I know that?” My voice sounded weary even to myself, my shoulders slumped. Mom would have a fit if she saw my posture.

      “Listen to your heart,” he replied softly. He leaned against the doorjamb and studied me, his smile gentle.

      “Don’t say things like that. My heart’s got nothing to do with it. I don’t know you. You don’t know me.”

      “What troubles ye, Caitlin?” His voice sounded like water rippling over stone, smooth and soothing, sliding across my senses like raw silk.

      I shook off its drugging effect. I was too exhausted to be soothed and chose petulance instead. “Well, let’s see. Could it be because I’m talking to a specter? Someone that’s not real? Yeah, I think that’s it.” I stomped to my room and leaned against the door I’d shut with more force than necessary. “Well this has been quite the night. I meet a sexy ghost and a sexy man all in the same evening.”

      “I thank you. As for the man, he’s an improvement over the other.”

      “Umph.” I threw my hand over my mouth and swallowed a shriek. “This is my bedroom. What are you doing in here?”

      There he sat on my bed, his black trousers and jacket accentuated by the ecru crocheted coverlet. The vest matched my spread to a T. Though, now wasn’t the time to be considering ghostly fashion statements.

      “I didn’t mean to upset you by saying I wanted to dance with you. And I didn’t mean to annoy you at the pub either.” He rose and hooked his thumbs in his waistband, then rocked back on his heels. “You get as ruffled as my sister Anna.” He grinned. The smile was short-lived as a shadow crossed his face. “This is my first time around as a ghost. It’s strange to me too.” He hunched his shoulders.

      I didn’t think the fact that he was a ghost had caused that brief glimpse of pain on his face. My tension eased as I tried to put myself in his place. Just the thought of it scared me spitless. “I’m sure it is strange. And this is your first time as a ghost?”

      “Yes. I was in limbo until I got sucked into that test tube.”

      “You have—excuse me, had,” I corrected myself, confused about tenses, “a sister Anna?”

      He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he drifted to the window and stared outside. A fat yellow moon floated through the dark sky, a bevy of shimmering stars in its wake. Finally, he spoke, his back still to me. “Yes… I have a twin, Anna.”

      “A twin,” I repeated. “I don’t have siblings, but twins are especially close. Aren’t you supposed to be linked?”

      He turned and looked at me, the usual good humor gone. He sighed, a wispy lonely sound, and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger before he dropped his hand. “That’s right. Linked is exactly what we are.”

      I tried to process that, but was suddenly too tired. “Where’s your twin?” I held up my hand before he could speak. “No. Don’t tell me. I can’t deal with any more tonight. I don’t understand any of this. And above all, I don’t understand why I can see you when no one else can. In fact, I’m not entirely convinced you’re not a figment of my imagination.” I pressed my fingers against my aching head. I probably sounded extremely rude, but my psyche was on overload. “This is such a strange situation.”

      He gave a rueful chuckle. “It is, isn’t it? If I’m a figment of your imagination, then you’re also one of mine.” He turned and gave me a strained smile. “And as far as why you can see me when no one else can… I’d like to know the answer to that one myself. But I can’t say that I’m sorry it’s you instead of your roommate—or anyone else for that matter.” The heat in his eyes weakened my knees. An unexpected flair of response kindled in the pit of my stomach.

      “I bet you were a bit of a heartbreaker in your time.” I willed my thumping heart to slow.

      He blushed.

      Fascinating. Who would have thought a ghost could blush?

      “The ladies and I got along well enough.”

      Heat rose in my chest and blood pounded in my ears before I realized what I was upset about. You idiot, jealous of a ghost. How stupid was that? I was beginning to feel like Alice in the rabbit hole. Another thought stopped me cold. Clayton was probably screwing his brains out about now, and the idea didn’t even make a blip on my radar. Time to make it clear to him, we weren’t going to happen.

      I flopped down on the bed, toed off my sandals, and leaned back against the headboard.

      He glanced at me. His gaze dropped to the