Page 5 of Catching My Dreams

Penny snorted. “You two are more entertaining than the soap operas my mom watches.”

Ella turned her scowl to the woman she’d known for four years and who was patiently waiting for the polish on Ella’s fingernails to dry.

“More dramatic, too,” Penny added with a grin.

“Ella’s life would make the perfect soap opera,” Sophia chimed in while carefully applying a top coat to her client’s nails. “Stalkers, kidnappings, stabbings. It practically writes itself.”

And they, along with her gran, didn’t even know the whole tale. Add in a love story between the man whose spirit was disconnected from his body and the girl who could see ghosts, and then the story really became soap opera-worthy.

And that was without including Brett’s ability to travel between different planes of existence and, apparently, use the magic from some of those planes in bloody and ritualistic spells. Not to mention Ella’s abilities to dreamwalk and astral project onto the spirit plane. Or how Noah had—

Nope, not going there, she told herself, quickly cutting off that train of thought.

The story sounded ridiculous even to her, but as absurd as it seemed, it was all true. Unfortunately.

“It’s a lot less entertaining when it’s happening to you in real life,” Ella said quietly, her thoughts returning to the nightmare she’d woken from that morning.

It had been nothing more than a dream, but Brett’s words and his grip had felt all too real. They always did. No matter how many times she dreamed of him, the Brett of her nightmares scared her as much as he had in real life when he’d slashed that hunting knife toward her—the knife that Noah had blocked with his arm in a move that she still couldn’t quite puzzle out.

“Ella-Bella,” her gran sighed. “You don’t need to pretend with me. I can see the dark circles under your eyes, and I can tell that you’ve lost some weight. I know you’re struggling, and it’s no wonder when you’re in that big house all alone every night.”

Ella shifted uneasily under the weight of the woman’s accurate assessment. “I have Archie.”

Her gran stared at her flatly. “I don’t think a Yorkie will be much help against a knife-wielding madman.”

Ella rolled her eyes, wincing when the motion sent a flare of pain through her head. “No, but he keeps me company, and if he barks in the middle of the night, I’ll know something’s wrong.”

“Isn’t that what your new alarm system is for?”

Ella let out a huff of frustration. “Yes, but an alarm system can’t cuddle with me.”

Nor could it sense if Brett was in the house when he was on another plane. Sometimes, she wondered if there was any point in setting it at all.

A mischievous gleam lit up her grandmother’s dark brown eyes—eyes that Ella shared. “A man would be far superior in that regard. When did you last have one of those in your bed?”

“Grandma,” Ella hissed, her cheeks becoming so hot she could have fried eggs on them.

The woman cackled, and Penny and Sophia—the traitors—joined in her laughter.

Ella sent her gran a warning glare. “We do not need to speak about my sex life.” The last two words were whispered hisses even though the few other customers and employees weren’t paying them an iota of attention.

“You’re young,” her gran continued with a shrug. “You should be experiencing life. Sowing your wild oats. Enjoying all that life has to offer.”

Ella had to bite her lip to keep in her laugh. “I think only men can sow their oats, so to speak.”

“Nonsense.” She waved the arthritic hand that wasn’t being tended to by Sophia. “Women can have as much casual sex as any man can. Don’t be sexist.”

“That’s not what I—” Ella closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “Can we just stop speaking about this? Please?”

“No,” her gran replied without a pause. “When was the last time you got any action?” There were plenty of phrases that no one ever wanted their grandmother to say, and this was one of them.

There was no way Ella was going to admit that it hadn’t been that long ago. That would lead to more questions. Questions about who it had been with and how it had been. Questions she really didn’t want to answer.

“Yes, Ella,” Penny said, hopping on the train of Inappropriateness headed right toward the city of Scarred for Life. “When was the last time you got some? I’m sure plenty of strapping young men at your college would be more than willing to help you ease some of that tension you’re holding in your shoulders.”

“What is happening?” Ella murmured. “And why, oh why is it happening to me?”

“Don’t be shy,” Sophia added, her eyes sparkling with amusement and mischief. “If it makes you feel more comfortable, I can share first.”

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