Ghost of a Promise by Kelly Moran Page A

had more than enough practice.
    She gripped his shoulders for balance, which apparently tripped him over some ledge to spiral with her. His arm snaked behind her back, tugging her to the hard wall of his chest. He tilted his head for a better angle and she closed the book on great. Great kissing was not in Jackson ’ s vocabulary. Exceptional, maybe. Expert, perhaps.
    His lips were full, firm, the contact no longer brushing in a tease. Because she had to, to stay sane, she took over, sliding her tongue over his bottom lip. She angled her head the other way and dove in. He offered no resistance, letting her take charge, melding his tongue to hers. Dancing, mating. The fuse inside lit.
    Her skin tingled and not from the cold outside. He was warm. So, so warm. Familiar, but he couldn ’ t be. There was safety in his embrace. Security. Nothing would happen to her if they stayed like this.
    Oh God. She broke away, stared at him. One kiss and she was thinking like a lunatic.
    His breaths soughed in and out. He had the nerve to look rattled. Wide blue eyes, furrowed brow, mouth open. His body stilled, tensed against hers. How many females before her fell for that look?
    “ Date over, ” he rasped. “ Consider yourself walked to the door properly. ”
    He still had that flustered look about him, which confused and pissed her off equally. “ We weren ’ t on a date. ”
    “ Don ’ t throw logic in here. You ’ ll ruin the mood. ”
    His cell buzzed in his pocket. He kept staring at her as if not aware.
    “ Are you going to get that? ” He ’ d be sorry he missed a booty call, ’ cause he wasn ’ t getting one out of her.
    He blinked, stepped back, and pulled his cell out in one fluid motion. “ Yeah. ” He frowned while he listened to the caller and finally looked away. Seconds ticked by. “ That ’ s the story my family told as well. Right. We ’ ll talk soon. ”
    Gaze down, he swallowed and took yet another step in retreat. “ That was Paul. The research he found on the Kerricks matches your story. John and Margaret Kerrick returned to England without Sarah. ”
    Car doors slammed near the front of the house. “ The crew ’ s back, ” she said unnecessarily.
    His gaze pinned her. “ That did just happen. We just kissed. No pretending it didn ’ t. ”
    What the hell did he mean by that? “ And? ”
    The team ’ s voices drew closer, but he kept staring at her with avid determination. “ You felt it too. ”
    If he was talking about the insane chemistry, then yeah. Not that she ’ d admit it to him. Something in the pit of her stomach said that ’ s not what he was referring to. From the second she spotted him on her front lawn a few days ago, something clicked. Not heat. Not tension. Both. And an underlying emotion she couldn ’ t place. She supposed if she had to put a name to it, it would resemble understanding. Remembrance.
    When he ’ d kissed her just now, being in his arms was like coming back to an old lover. A friend.
    God, she was going freaking crazy. She squared her shoulders, looked him dead on. “ It won ’ t happen again. ”
    He took a step forward. “ Why not? ”
    For a guy who looked as shell-shocked as she felt, he was putting up quite the fight. She had a billion reasons not to get involved with him. Her mouth spilled one before she could filter first. “ I will not be one of your many conquests. ”
    His usually humorous features smoothed into a hard, dangerous expression before she could adjust. “ You think you ’ ve got me pegged, Ava? Think you know me, do you? News flash. You don ’ t. ”
    The back door opened behind her and Sammy ’ s head poked out.
    “ There you are. Did something happen out here? ”
    She knew Sammy meant did anything paranormal happen. Jackson ’ s gaze never left hers, still seething with anger and tension, daring her to challenge him.
    Accepted. “ No, ” she said to Sammy, holding Jackson ’ s gaze, then turning. “ Nothing happened.