The Bad Boy of Bluebonnet(9)
“You’ve seen something?”
“Not yet. But I hear things moving around in the attic at night, when I’m the only one in the house. It’s a big house to be alone in anyhow, but add in the ghosts, and it scares the crap out of me.” She looked unhappy, fiddling with one of the buttons on her sweater before taking another sip of her drink. “I have the police come by on the worst nights, but I think they’re getting tired of it. I know they think I’m crazy because they never find anything. But I don’t have anyone else to call on.”
Something about her seemed so sad and woebegone, Jericho wanted to grab her and kiss her until that forlorn expression left her face. “What about Bradley?” he asked.
“Braden?” She shook her head. “He’ll only come check out the house if I let him film it for his show, and I refuse.”
“Yeah, but you’re a business. You could probably use the income, right? I imagine lots of people would flock to see a haunted bed and breakfast.”
“I don’t want notoriety. I want peace and quiet.” She looked distressed at the thought. “I don’t want to be that bed and breakfast, you know? I want people to come because they like the house and enjoy the cooking. Not because they’re hoping to meet a ghost.”
Oddly enough, Jericho understood. Despite his tattoos and hair and Harley, he was a pretty low-key guy himself. His parents had been vagabonds and scammers, floating from town to town and making a quick buck where they could. He’d hated that lifestyle and had ran away from home to join the Army as soon as he was old enough. Served a few years, just long enough to realize that he wasn’t really cut out for being told what to do, and apprenticed with a friend who had a fix-it business. The rest was history. After a crazy childhood, he liked nothing more than to relax at home with a beer.
She reached for her popcorn and nibbled on a handful before looking over at him. “So that’s why I can’t sleep. I’m a chicken and I’m scared of ghosts. But it’s hard to tell myself it’s nothing when I can plainly hear strange noises all night long.”
“Huh,” was all he said.
“You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”
“Nah, I just…” He shrugged. “Never believed in ghosts before, you know? But if you say it’s haunted, I believe you. And your ex said it was haunted, and it sounds like he’s an expert.”
It also sounded like he was a douchebag, but he wasn’t sure if Emily wanted to hear that.
“The house is a hundred years old,” Emily said. “You’d expect someone died in it at some point, right? Maybe they just stuck around.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “But enough about the house. I’ve lived in Bluebonnet for two years and I’ve never seen you. You new?”
He nodded. “To the area, yeah. Decided I’d see if I could make a go of business here. Last town wasn’t so friendly.”
Emily’s brows furrowed. “How come?”
He pointed at his face and recognition dawned on hers.
“Ah. People can be a bit…conservative in small towns, I’ve noticed.” She grimaced. “They’re not really fond of a bad boy. I hope work’s treating you all right.”
“It’s slow,” he said. “But I heard this lady has a ramshackle Victorian she needs help updating. Cha-ching.”
He watched as a smile spread across Emily’s face, making her delicate features utterly gorgeous in the shadowy theater. Damn, he really wanted to kiss her. “Cha-ching, huh?” she murmured.
“I hear she’s a pretty good cook, too.”
“Best in town, or so I’ve heard,” Emily said, playing along. She shifted in her seat and leaned toward him. “She was really pleased with the eaves you helped her with the other day. Don’t suppose you’re good with toilets? And lighting?”
“I know a thing or two,” he said casually.
“I heard there’s a few shaky ones over at the old Victorian that probably need to be re-seated and sealed,” Emily said casually. “I bet the lady with the Victorian would hire you to help with that.”
Her playful, sultry tone of voice was making his cock hard, right in the middle of the damn movie theater. “Think she’d cook something for me?”
“I bet. What’s your favorite?”
Jericho thought for a moment. “Oatmeal raisin cookies?”
“Done.” She smiled up at him. “Are you busy tomorrow?”
“Sounds like I’m putting in a few toilets.” He leaned toward her, curious to see if she’d flinch away from him or if she’d keep snuggling closer. When she didn’t pull away, he brushed his mouth over hers.