Page 30 of The Haunting of the Mountain

“Did you see the photograph?”

She taps at the page in her book. I glance and then nod.

“Back when I was a teen. Kids used to pass it around all the time. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t spook me the first time.”

Kyla smiles. “But you’re not convinced.”

“Afraid not. I’ve been on this mountain long enough. If something like that was hiding, I’d have seen it. Or smelled it,” I add chuckling.

“Does it really smell that bad?”

“Couldn’t tell you.” I pause for a few moments. “You seem more interested in these animals than ghosts.”

“I am. Nell’s the ghost girl.”

“And you’re the cryptid cutie?”

Kyla snorts and I cringe. Jesus, what the hell was that? But when that small snort turns into a full-body laugh, I want to run into the forest and beg the wendigo to end my misery.

“That caught me off guard, but I kinda like it. The Ghost Girl and the Cryptid Cutie.” She glances down at her book, and then back at me, a wide grin still on her face.

I can’t help but feel red-hot embarrassment spreading all over my body. And for the rest of the ride, I keep my mouth shut. Cutie. Fuck me.

Chapter 7

Kyla

Oh.My god.

Stone thinks I’m cute. He thinks—wait. Do I want him to think I’m cute? Cute is what you call a kitten. Two puppies wrestling around in the dirt. A pygmy hippo. Cute leads to adorable. Gentle pats on the head. It leads in the opposite direction of where I want to go with Stone.

Sexy? Hell yeah.

Gorgeous? Yes, please.

Cute?Ugh.

I thought I was pulling out all the stops during that car ride. I made sure my sweater was hanging a bit lower. I could feel Stone’s eyes on me. Isawhim looking. And I relished how my body would react each time his gaze would linger on my skin. Warmth and tightness and tingling. Everything was electric. It still is.

“Storm might make things a little difficult,” Stone says as we leave his truck and head for his cabin. “Might have to pack a few more supplies for the trek over to the mill.”

I’d forgotten all about it. And if I’m honest, I don’t care if we can’t make it there. All I care about is getting down to the bottom of what’s going on between me and Stone.

“Another one coming?” I ask pausing to take a look around. It looks like it’s dusk but it’s too early in the day. The wind’s picked up. A flock of birds navigates the cloudy sky overhead, chirping and chittering as they change course faster than my emotions.

“Afraid so,” Stone says, placing his hand on my lower back as we head up the front porch stairs.

My body reacts immediately, and all of my worries begin to melt away. I need to stop overthinking a single word. I need to remind myself how Stone makes me feel.

I need—“WHAT THE OHMYGOD!”I scream as I walk through the cabin door and Stone scrambles to see what’s wrong.

What’s wrong isthat. The corn doll that Stone said he buried. It’s sitting on the rocking chair, covered in dirt with even more dirt across the floor as though it climbed out of its grave and dragged itself back inside.

“Nope, nope, nope,” I mutter to myself, leaving the cabin and walking around in circles, trying to dissipate my nerves. I didn’t believe in curses or possessions or hauntings but after what happened at the library and then this? I’m reconsidering everything.

I sigh, relaxingas Stone wraps me up in his arms. I fold against him, breathing in his soothing scent.

“Kyla,” Stone says, his hand stroking the back of my head. “I…” He pauses for a few moments, the same faltering he had back at the library.

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