Page 37 of Haunted Ever After

“Other stuff that needs fixing.” She started ticking them off on her fingers. “The shower upstairs has a leak. They never put baseboards in the second bedroom upstairs, and one of the windows is painted shut. This window in the kitchen doesn’t close properly; learned that the hard way the first couple days, so I can’t even open it now. And of course that electricity thing that never resolved itself; we’re gonna need to take another crack at that.” She gestured to her laptop. There was something about the sight of it, open on her kitchen table, papers and notes scattered all around, that made Nick feel like he was intruding on her life. Like she was a professional, and he was just some guy who owned a diner. Inferior.

But he pushed down the feeling and focused on Cassie. Because she was right there, warm and soft, and it was the easiest thing in the world to slip an arm around her waist and tug her closer. “You’re going to make this house beautiful,” he murmured into her hair. She made a soft humming sound in response, leaning into him, and his blood stirred. What other rooms in this house needed fixing? Maybe her bedroom? Because he wouldn’t mind taking a look right about now.

Cassie sighed, her dark eyes still slowly scanning the room. Probably making to-do lists in her head; she was that type of person. “I do want to make it beautiful,” she said, her voice low, talking more to herself than to him. “And maybe I could…I don’t know…recoup some of what I put into the place.”

His blood cooled fast. “What do you mean?”

“You know, when it’s time to sell. Improvements build equity. Increase the value.”

Nick let his arm fall limply to his side as realization dawned. “You’re selling?” Of course. She wasn’t sticking around, either. Let her in, they’d said. What bullshit.

“Not tomorrow or anything, but at some point.” Her dark eyes scanned the kitchen. “You have to admit, this house is a lot to take on. More than I thought it would be. The listing should have said ‘two bedroom, one and a half bath, renovated in a half-assed manner, free ghost with purchase.’ ” Her laugh sounded mocking. To Nick, to Sarah Hawkins, to all of Boneyard Key. “I probably would have thought twice before putting in an offer then.”

“Right. So you’re…” Nick couldn’t finish the sentence because the buzzing sensation in his chest had gotten stronger and moved upward, like his head was suddenly full of bees.

Cassie must have noticed the change in his tone, because she turned back to him. “I don’t know.” Her voice was soft, almost gentle. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Nick. I want to just start with painting the living room and see how it goes.”

“See how it goes?” His voice was harsh in his ears, and he didn’t like how it sounded.

“Yeah. I mean, I still have work to consider.” She gestured to her laptop setup, and the sight of it made him even angrier. Cassie’s overly patient tone felt condescending. Dismissive. It all made the buzzing in his head louder. “How am I going to keep my job if I have to come down to the café every day just to power up my laptop?”

“You’re welcome there anytime. You know that.” It was like his electricity wasn’t good enough for her or something.

“I know that.” Her calm voice just made him angrier. Why was she placating him? “But it’s not exactly convenient, is it?”

“So you’re saying you don’t want to see me?” He was picking a stupid fight. There was a part of his mind that was fully aware of that. But the rest was filled with buzzing, growing even louder now. The buzzing said that she was wrong. That he had to put her in her place.

What? said the sane part of his mind. But that part wasn’t in charge anymore.

“No, I get it,” he said, even as Cassie opened her mouth to answer him. “Work comes first for you, right? What’s going to happen when you get married? Aren’t you going to want to give your husband children? Shouldn’t that be the priority, not a career?”

“When I what?” Cassie looked stricken and she fell back a step, away from him. “Who the hell is talking about having kids?”

“Are you saying you don’t want a family? What the hell is wrong with women these days?”

What the hell was wrong with him? Why had he just said that? He didn’t mean that.

Yes, he did.

No, he didn’t.

Silence stretched between them. Cassie’s eyes were wide and her face had gone white, except for two bright spots of red on her cheeks. Her mouth was open in a little O as she stared at him, stunned. Nick didn’t blame her. He sounded like a raging asshole, and that wasn’t like him at all. But the buzzing in his head had grown so loud that he couldn’t think straight. Red crept into the edges of his vision, the rage making his chest so tight that he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to yell. He wanted to cry. He wanted to…

He wanted Cassie to stop looking at him like she had no idea who he was. Though she had every right to; Nick had no idea who he was, either.

But Cassie wasn’t looking at him. She was looking past him, and when he turned around he realized her attention had been caught by the refrigerator. The words in the middle, where Sarah left her messages, had changed.

get him out

The buzzing faded as he stared at the fridge, the words burning their way into his brain. Even the goddamn ghost wanted him out.

“I think…” Cassie’s voice behind him was shaky. He looked back at her, taking in her tight expression. Those warm brown eyes had gone cold. “I think maybe you should go.”

“Yeah, I can tell I’ve overstayed my welcome.” What had he been thinking, dropping everything to run over here like a lovesick puppy?

He wasted no time getting the hell out of there. He practically leapt down the front porch steps, and the buzzing in his head stopped the moment he crossed through the front gate and his feet hit the sidewalk. The farther he walked, the quieter everything got, and by the time he made it to the café it had faded completely, along with his anger. His heart raced from more than just the walk as he paused at the door. He felt like he was waking up from the worst dream he’d ever had.

What had he said? And why had he said it? He turned to look back at the Hawkins House—Cassie’s house. That whole conversation—no, call it what it was, a fight—felt like it had happened to someone else.

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