Page 11 of Gift for My Ghost

Except that was what she’d been told in all her foster homes—and they’d been wrong.

“Is that really what you think?”

His dark eyes were warm and perceptive, and she shook her head.

“No. But it didn’t last long, and it might simply have been a… visitor to town.”

“Is that possible? Aren’t all ghosts tied to the place where they died?”

He had a curiously intent look on his face.

“Not at all. It’s most common but it’s not the only possibility. Sometimes the spirit is searching for something and sometimes they aren’t anchored anywhere but they don’t know how to move on.”

He shuddered. “That sounds worse than being trapped—never having a place where you belong.”

“You have a place where you belong,” she said firmly. “Here. With me.”

Impulsively, she reached for him and to her amazement, her fingers connected with a solid form. She felt the powerful expanse of his chest beneath her touch, warm and real. His eyes widened, mirroring her own wonderment, and then his gaze turned heated.

Slowly, he leaned down, closing the distance between them. Her heart raced as his lips met hers, and this time the kiss wasn’t the fleeting, tentative touch of earlier that day. This was a full, passionate kiss, his mouth firm and demanding against hers and she could feel it all. Her lips parted instinctively, and his tongue stroked hers, slightly cool but undeniably real, and she could taste apples and something wild and untamed.

She clutched at his chest, her body pressing closer to him as she surrendered to the sensation, to the heat sparking between them. For the first time in so long, she felt alive, every nerve ending singing at his touch. He was the only thing that mattered, the rest of the world fading into the background. The warmth of his body and the scent of apples wrapped around her like an embrace.

Her nipples tingled and she felt the slow, almost forgotten pulse of arousal low in her belly, but then that little voice in the back of her mind reminded her of what he was—a ghost, not a living, breathing man. A ghost who could fade at any moment, who couldn’t truly be there for her.

With a gasp, she pulled back, breaking the kiss. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath, to gather her thoughts. His chest was rising and falling just as rapidly, even though he didn’t need to breathe. A choked sound escaped at the thought—half laugh, half sob—and she turned away from him.

“I can’t. We can’t. This is… impossible.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging herself protectively, and she could hear him pacing behind her. How could a ghost sound so alive?

“I’m not so sure it is impossible.”

His voice was deep and intense and she could feel the truth of the connection between them, but…

“How can you think that? You died a long time ago.”

“Maybe I died too soon. Maybe my time isn’t over yet.”

Her head snapped up at the hint of hope in his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been doing some research. Did you know that All Hallow’s Eve is a time when the veil between worlds is thinnest? I think it might be possible to cross that barrier, at least temporarily, and I intend to try.”

She turned and stared at him, her heart pounding. He looked so determined, but…

“I’ve never heard of that happening,” she said slowly. “I’m not sure it’s possible.”

“But what if it is? Will you help me?”

“What if it goes wrong? What if I l-lose you forever?”

Her voice broke on the question and he immediately reached for her, but this time he didn’t make contact and he gave a frustrated sigh.

“I want to be with you, Jessica. I can’t ignore the possibility.”

He looked so hopeful that despite all the years of engrained caution, she found herself nodding.

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