Inevitable by Michelle Rowen Page A

difficult and tempting being around Emma. None of that mattered. If he let Emma fall, he may as well join Harold here and become a selfish, self-hating ghost who craved solitude.
    He wouldn’t let her slip. He held on so tightly to her, he was sure he was bruising her wrists, but it was a small price to pay. Inch by inch he pulled her back up to the landing. He crushed her against his chest in a tight embrace.
    â€œThat was too close,” he whispered into her hair, which he brushed back from her face so he could look into her green eyes. She was hugging him back just as fiercely. “Are you okay?”
    She just nodded. “That was close.”
    â€œToo damn close.”
    He pulled her to him and kissed her, hot and deep and open-mouthed. She gasped against his lips before kissing him back. There was no way she wouldn’t be able to feel his erection pressing into her, telling her clearly just how damn much he wanted her. His tongue slid against hers and he heard someone groan deep in their throat. He thought it was probably him.
    After a moment, he released her, though she kept hold of his arm. Harold waited close by, his face twisted with grief and misery.
    â€œWhen I get angry, bad things happen,” he said bleakly. “I can’t control it. I’m so sorry.”
    Ryan’s hands curled into fists. “What did you do, Harold?”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œSeventy years ago, or however long ago you died. What did you do that Lorraine would have to forgive you for? What is it that you still hate yourself for doing that keeps you stuck here all alone, all these years later, unable to find the peace you need to move on?”
    Harold was silent for a long moment, his face etched in pain and regret and guilt. “I lost so much money gambling—Lorraine begged me to stop, but I couldn’t.I knew if I hit it, we’d be on easy street for the rest of our lives.”
    Emma and Ryan exchanged a glance.
    â€œBut you didn’t,” Ryan said.
    His expression shadowed. “No. The bills were mounting up higher and higher every day. It was too much for me—for her. She lost our baby because of the stress.” His expression twisted with pain.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Emma said, and there was a catch of emotion in her voice. Ryan fisted his hands at his sides to keep from drawing her close to him again.
    Harold nodded, pain etched into his face. “So I did what any man who’d been driven half mad by the thought that I couldn’t support my family would do.”
    â€œYou killed yourself,” Ryan guessed.
    That earned him a sharp glare. “No. I wanted to give my wife everything she deserved, everything I could never afford for her. So…I stupidly decided to rob a bank right here in Mystic Ridge. I went in with a gun—no bullets. I never wanted to hurt anyone, I just needed cash.”
    Emma stayed silent and let Harold tell his story, staying clear of the broken banister. Ryan leaned against the wall next to the mirror behind him. He couldn’t get an empathic read on a dead person, but by the look on Harold’s face, he was telling the truth as he remembered it.
    â€œThen what happened?” Ryan prompted when Harold went silent.
    â€œGot tens of thousands stuffed in a bag and I headed home to take Lorraine on a long vacation.” The small grin that played at his mouth at the pleasant part of his memory vanished completely. “Lorraine asked me whereI got the money and I lied to her. I told her I’d inherited it and it had just been wired to me. And…she believed me.”
    â€œShe loved you,” Emma said.
    This statement only made Harold look more distraught. “The cops came for me when she was packing a couple suitcases for us. Lorraine, she—she tried to protect me, stood in front of me and told the cops what I’d told her. That I couldn’t have robbed a bank, that it was inheritance