Page 13 of The Bad Boy of Bluebonnet

Jericho took her hand and led her back into her own house. “Lead me to it.”

“The attic,” she said, pointing upstairs. “The noises always come from the attic.”

“Of course they do,” he said with a chuckle. “Typical horror movie shit. The bad stuff is always in the attic.”

“I’ve had it checked before and no one can find anything,” she whispered. And even though she wanted to kick herself for it, she clung to his arm. “I’m sorry I’m being such a baby.”

He looked down at Emily, and the look on his face was surprisingly tender. “You’re not being a baby, Em. You’re scared, that’s all.”

“I hate being alone,” she whispered, leaning closer as they headed up the old staircase. “I’ve never liked it. Especially at night.”

“That why you invited me to live with you the other night?”

“Mostly. I like your company, too.” She felt a little uncomfortable but since he’d gotten up in the middle of the night to come be her hero, the least she could do was confess how she felt. “I acted really weird on the date. I wanted to apologize. It wasn’t that I didn’t like you. I just…I haven’t dated anyone in a really long time, and my ex kind of did a number on my self esteem. And you were looking at me weird with the ghost stuff, and I think I just started babbling.”

Jericho’s smile widened. He put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a casual hug. A warm, sincere hug. “We all get nervous. I have to admit, I wasn’t sure how to take it when a girl tells me she wants me to move in but in a completely platonic sort of way. And here I was having dirty thoughts about you.”

Emily’s breath caught in her throat. “You were?”

“Fuck yeah. In that demure little cardigan? Was thinking about peeling it off of you and seeing what was underneath.”

Suddenly the arm around her shoulders felt a little too innocent — she craved those filthy thoughts he’d been having. “Well, I—“

A massive thump sounded overhead, silencing them both.

“Well, damn,” Jericho said, glancing up at the ceiling.

“I didn’t lie,” Emily told him, a little breathless at being proven right. She wasn’t crazy. She wasn’t. “I have a ghost.”

His sexy mouth curled a little at the edges, and she noticed he was unshaven. Oooh. “You’ve got something up there. Got a flashlight? We’ll go check things out.”

She’d never been quite brave enough to check things out on her own. Braden had probably filled her head with too much nonsense. Still, the thought of confronting whatever it was upstairs freaked her out a little, and she moved even closer to him. “Are you sure?”

“Only one way to see if it’s what I think it is.”

“What do you think it is?”

That mouthwatering smile quirked again. “Don’t know, but really hoping it’s not a ghost.”

They headed up the stairs, turned past Emily’s room, and then further up toward the attic space. Emily’s attic staircase was a cramped and twisting set of narrow stairs behind a door at the end of the hall on the second floor. At the top of the staircase was another ominous door. Just looking at the stairwell gave her the willies.

Jericho turned to her. “Flashlight?”

“Right,” she said quickly, and ran to her second floor storm closet. She kept emergency supplies on both floors just in case she had guests and the power went out. A heavy Maglite was in the closet and she grabbed it, then raced back to Jericho’s side and offered it to him.

“Thanks. You want to stay down here?”

Oh God, did she ever. It thumped again, and she moved a little closer to him warily. “Um. Will you think less of me if I do?”

He chuckled. “Not at all. Just call the police if I’m not back in twenty.”

Emily glared at him. “That’s not funny.” The lights flickered as if to agree with her. Ugh. Emily squeezed closer to him and closed her eyes. “Are you sure you want to go?”

“It’ll be fine.” He pried her away from him and tapped her cheek so she’d open her eyes. When she did, he gave her one of those bad-boy winks. “Don’t worry.”

“Easy for you to say.” He didn’t live here, after all.

But he was already climbing the stairs. “Be right back.”

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