Page 29 of Haunted Ever After

“Nah.” No way in hell, he almost said. He could just picture it if he brought Cassie in there. It was fifty-fifty if Vince would behave himself, and even if he did, he’d give Nick an endless amount of shit the next time he saw him. “Not a very romantic spot,” he said instead.

“Where to next, then?” She looked up at him with trusting eyes, a look Nick could get used to.

“Beach sunset time.” The timing was perfect; the evening sun had started slanting across the sky, sending burnished orange rays through the Spanish moss draped over the trees lining the sidewalk on the edge of downtown.

The walk through downtown and to the beach bordered on awkward. More than once Nick almost reached for Cassie’s hand, but drew back before he did. More than once she swayed into him, bumping their arms together and then apart. Finally, sidewalk gave way to sand, and once they got to the shoreline the clutch of picnic tables came into view, tucked into a small cove. The site of countless family picnics and teenage debauchery over the decades, tonight it was deserted, just as Nick had hoped it would be.

Cassie picked up an empty beer bottle that lay in the sand near one of the picnic tables, pitching it into a nearby trash can as Nick set his backpack down. The backpack was probably overkill considering what was inside, but at least it looked cooler than carrying a shopping bag. He unzipped it, pulling out the single bottle of beer inside. After placing the bottle on the far edge of the table, he sat on one of the picnic bench seats, and Cassie joined him. She toed off her shoes, wiggling her toes into the sand, and he followed suit. The sand was warm on the soles of his feet.

“We splitting that?” She glanced over at the bottle, and Nick wanted to slap himself on the forehead. He was terrible at explaining things sometimes.

“That’s not for us. Remember the beach bum? From Sophie’s tour?”

It took a second for Cassie to remember, but Nick saw the moment that it clicked. “The drunk guy who hangs out on the beach?” She looked around as though she could see him in the lengthening shadows. Her gaze landed on the bottle again. “Bring him a beer. That was what you said, right? What’s his deal? Sophie didn’t say much.”

Nick shrugged. “My mom remembers him when she was in high school, back when she was hanging out at the beach with her friends. Not a lot for kids to do here on the weekends, you know? Anyway, when I was old enough to hang at the beach, one of my buddies brought beer he’d gotten on a fake ID over in Gainesville. He was going to pour one out for the beach bum and I thought, why not leave it in the bottle so he can drink it if he wants?”

“Like leaving cookies and milk for Santa?”

“Something like that.” Nick chuckled as Cassie turned back to the water, where the real show was just starting.

“Look at that.” Her voice was hushed. The sun was hanging heavy in the sky now, glowing bright orange, the clouds around it streaked with pinks and purples. The water of the Gulf was blue, reflecting the sky above, highlighted with bright deep gold from the setting sun.

“This was one of my favorite things to do growing up,” he said. “When I was confused or pissed off, or just felt like I didn’t have my head on straight, I’d come out here and watch the sun go down over the water. It would just…I don’t know. Clear things up inside my brain. Like a reset.”

“Sounds like something out of a Jimmy Buffett song.” A smile played around the corners of her mouth, and there was something about it that drew him in. He wanted to lean over. He wanted to kiss the corner of that mouth. She wasn’t giving off any get away from me vibes. But she also wasn’t giving off any get over here vibes, and he didn’t want to push it.

“I like it, though,” she said, her voice soft. “A reminder to slow down.” Her eyes scanned the horizon, and he watched her take it all in.

“I haven’t done it in a while, though.” He hadn’t realized it until he said it; when was the last time he’d walked down here and just spent a half hour watching the sunset? So many evenings lately he felt like staying home was the thing to do. Elmer didn’t get much company these days; Nick was basically his only option. It was like owning a dog that couldn’t leave the house; Nick couldn’t exactly take Elmer on a walk. But Nick was all the company Elmer had, so he stayed home. Probably more than he should.

“It’s a quiet thing to do,” Cassie said, her voice soft beside him. “And most tourists don’t like quiet. They’re at the bars, right? Watching this from the outdoor seating at a restaurant, or from their hotel rooms. They’re not just gonna come sit at the beach with no other stimulation.”

Nick gave a soft laugh. She knew her tourists. But of course she did; she was a Floridian, just not from here. “They need dinner and a show.”

“At least.”

The sky was lit up in orange and purple and gold, giving way to pinks and dark, dark indigo. The sun was really showing off now, throwing one last brilliant blaze of orange light across the sky. Nick and Cassie sat in comfortable silence, and as the sun disappeared for the night, Cassie leaned in, her head resting on his shoulder. She fit so well against him it was like she’d always been there. He could really get used to this.

Finally the sun slipped behind the water, and the single streetlamp clicked on for the night, triggered by the darkness. The show was over. The sky was dark, yet the heat of the day lingered as the humidity in the air hung on.

Instead of heading back the way they came, toward the sidewalk and downtown, Nick gestured to the water and the long expanse of beach. From here, they could barely see the lights of Cassie’s house, twinkling in the distance like stars sent to guide them home.

“I like this,” Cassie said. She carried her shoes in one hand, their bare feet sinking lightly into the sand as they walked. The waves hissed against the shore as they rolled in, dissipating close by but never close enough to risk getting wet. “It’s like a back road home. I should come this way more often when I’m—”

“Shhh.” Nick slipped his hand into hers, squeezing to get her attention. The warmth of her skin against his made everything in his brain skid to a halt, and he had to fight to remember what he was going to say. “You hear that?” He leaned down, breathing the words into her ear. He was trying to be quiet, he told himself. That was why he had to lean in so close. That was why his lips nearly brushed her ear.

She gave a minuscule shake of her head. “Hear what?” Her voice was little more than breath, and he wanted more. God, he wanted more. But he flicked his eyes back, indicating behind them, and he could tell the moment she heard it. Soft footsteps in the sand, five or six feet behind them. She turned to look over her shoulder. Nick turned too, and they could see them—the wet footprints of a strange pair of shoes appearing for a moment or two before disappearing into the sand.

Cassie stopped walking, and the footsteps stopped too, the last prints in the sand slowly fading away. With a glance up at Nick she started to walk again, and he followed. There was a pause, and then the footsteps behind them started up again too. Not fast, not slow. Just a steady stroll, keeping time with them.

Cassie’s eyes flew up to Nick’s. “Did we pick up a friend?”

“Thought we might,” Nick said carefully.

He expected her to react with alarm at the idea of being followed home by a ghost. But instead she smiled. “So he liked the beer, huh?”

“Looks like it.” Inside he was cheering. This had been a good idea after all. She had just met a ghost—two really, if you counted the cold spot—and she wasn’t freaking out. Maybe she was acclimating. She’d just needed a little time to get used to the quirks of Boneyard Key.

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