we’ll fix it.”
“Really?”
“Really. And for what it’s worth, you don’t seem…you know, dead to me.”
Hope lifted her spirits, but they crashed down again. Despite what he said, she couldn’t think of any other explanation for this strangeness than her being a ghost. If they figured out what was happening and found a way to fix it, she’d have to leave him.
She’d had enough talking. And she’d lost her enthusiasm for anything more. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep? You must be exhausted. I’ll stay as long as I can and keep those nightmares at bay.” She wiggled out from under him, pulled her bra straps back into place, and grabbed her shirt. Forcing a smile, she buttoned up.
Hopefully, he would agree to sleep. He really did need his rest. And she needed to distance herself from the roller-coaster emotions he made her feel. She needed to distance herself from him. Their time together would eventually come to an end. The dead didn’t belong with the living.
She should have known he r Derek wouldn’t cooperate.
* * * *
“Are you hungry?” Derek asked his dream girl —DG. What a cute name. Until he helped her learn her real name, he’d be more than happy to call her that.
She fastened the buttons on her shirt, working from the top down to cover those beautiful breasts first. He didn’t blame her. Nothing killed the mood like trying to convince your new girlfriend she wasn’t dead. She looked like she wanted to believe him, but didn’t dare to. He’d spend the rest of the night trying to bring her around.
He didn’t believe she was dead. A dead woman shouldn’t have a pulse, but he’d felt her heartbeat strong and eager against his lips when he’d kissed her right between those perfect breasts. Not to mention, a dead woman shouldn’t be able to come like a screaming banshee. His chest swelled with pride at the memory of her very vocal orgasm—it had been a release of far more than just sexual pleasure. She’d let go of a whole host of fears and worries, and she’d done it because of him.
No, she definitely wasn’t dead. There had to be some other explanation for her being here, and he wouldn’t rest until he figured it out.
DG smoothed the front of her shirt, then hugged her knees. Her toenails were free from polish, like her fingernails. He liked that. She wasn’t flashy. Nothing about her said, look at me, find me beautiful. She simply was beautiful.
But sadness touched her eyes. She tried to hide it from him, but he saw it anyway. It made him ache for her.
“Hungry?” Her brow furrowed as she thought about it. “I’m not sure.”
“How would you like to try eating something? I’ll make you some dinner and serve it to you right here.” He patted the bed, then got up and pulled on a t-shirt.
She glanced at the clock. “It’s one in the morning.”
“So it is.”
Her lips, still plump from his kisses, curved into a small smile. “Most people have already had dinner by one in the morning.”
“Most people don’t spend what should be their waking hours stuck in fog.”
She paled.
He’d taken a stab in the dark, and he’d been right. She tried to be casual about it, but the haunted look in her eyes when she’d mentioned that fog had clued him in. It was like a prison to her. His chest tightened. He’d do anything to keep her from having to go back there. “How long has it been since you’ve gone outside?”
She looked up, and her expression said it all. She was afraid to believe she could do something as simple as go outside and look up at the moon.
He held out a hand to her. “Come on. Let’s go fire up the grill. I’ve got some steaks marinating.”
“Um —” She twisted her hands in her lap as she knelt in the center of his mattress. “If I get off the bed, you won’t see me. Or hear me. Or feel me.” With each statement, her voice shrank.
“But I’ll know you’re there,” he said. “Come on.
“Really?”
“Really. And for what it’s worth, you don’t seem…you know, dead to me.”
Hope lifted her spirits, but they crashed down again. Despite what he said, she couldn’t think of any other explanation for this strangeness than her being a ghost. If they figured out what was happening and found a way to fix it, she’d have to leave him.
She’d had enough talking. And she’d lost her enthusiasm for anything more. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep? You must be exhausted. I’ll stay as long as I can and keep those nightmares at bay.” She wiggled out from under him, pulled her bra straps back into place, and grabbed her shirt. Forcing a smile, she buttoned up.
Hopefully, he would agree to sleep. He really did need his rest. And she needed to distance herself from the roller-coaster emotions he made her feel. She needed to distance herself from him. Their time together would eventually come to an end. The dead didn’t belong with the living.
She should have known he r Derek wouldn’t cooperate.
* * * *
“Are you hungry?” Derek asked his dream girl —DG. What a cute name. Until he helped her learn her real name, he’d be more than happy to call her that.
She fastened the buttons on her shirt, working from the top down to cover those beautiful breasts first. He didn’t blame her. Nothing killed the mood like trying to convince your new girlfriend she wasn’t dead. She looked like she wanted to believe him, but didn’t dare to. He’d spend the rest of the night trying to bring her around.
He didn’t believe she was dead. A dead woman shouldn’t have a pulse, but he’d felt her heartbeat strong and eager against his lips when he’d kissed her right between those perfect breasts. Not to mention, a dead woman shouldn’t be able to come like a screaming banshee. His chest swelled with pride at the memory of her very vocal orgasm—it had been a release of far more than just sexual pleasure. She’d let go of a whole host of fears and worries, and she’d done it because of him.
No, she definitely wasn’t dead. There had to be some other explanation for her being here, and he wouldn’t rest until he figured it out.
DG smoothed the front of her shirt, then hugged her knees. Her toenails were free from polish, like her fingernails. He liked that. She wasn’t flashy. Nothing about her said, look at me, find me beautiful. She simply was beautiful.
But sadness touched her eyes. She tried to hide it from him, but he saw it anyway. It made him ache for her.
“Hungry?” Her brow furrowed as she thought about it. “I’m not sure.”
“How would you like to try eating something? I’ll make you some dinner and serve it to you right here.” He patted the bed, then got up and pulled on a t-shirt.
She glanced at the clock. “It’s one in the morning.”
“So it is.”
Her lips, still plump from his kisses, curved into a small smile. “Most people have already had dinner by one in the morning.”
“Most people don’t spend what should be their waking hours stuck in fog.”
She paled.
He’d taken a stab in the dark, and he’d been right. She tried to be casual about it, but the haunted look in her eyes when she’d mentioned that fog had clued him in. It was like a prison to her. His chest tightened. He’d do anything to keep her from having to go back there. “How long has it been since you’ve gone outside?”
She looked up, and her expression said it all. She was afraid to believe she could do something as simple as go outside and look up at the moon.
He held out a hand to her. “Come on. Let’s go fire up the grill. I’ve got some steaks marinating.”
“Um —” She twisted her hands in her lap as she knelt in the center of his mattress. “If I get off the bed, you won’t see me. Or hear me. Or feel me.” With each statement, her voice shrank.
“But I’ll know you’re there,” he said. “Come on.
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