Page 38 of Séance

GUNNER

Standing on Rue’s front porch, I rub the back of my neck, wondering what the fuck I’m doing. After the way she ran from us last night, I doubt she wants to see any of us again, and yet I can’t just turn away.

We made a date to go shopping, and she wanted to learn how to cook. She didn’t cancel, which means she still wants to go on the date. Right?

At least that’s what Jameson convinced me of before he shoved me out the door. When I look over at the mansion, I swear I can see Jameson in the office, wearing an exasperated expression on his face as he points emphatically toward her front door.

With a grunt, I turn toward the house and knock before I can second-guess myself anymore. Wait, thanks to Hicks’ stupid rule, this isn’t a real date, and I can’t help feeling grumpy that the decision was made after I already asked her out.

Oh, I know he’s right, but it’s hard to mask my disappointment.

When the door slowly cracks open, I snap to attention, excitement surging through my veins at being able to see her again. It’s all I can do not to smile like an idiot…only for my smile to fall when I catch a glimpse of her through the crack in the door.

“Gunner?” She blinks in surprise and opens the door farther. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“Nah, everything is fine.” I shuffle my feet awkwardly, cursing that I let Jameson talk me into coming over here in the first place. “You didn’t call to cancel our plans, so I thought you still wanted to go shopping.”

Her eyes widen, then she blinks and looks down at her outfit. It’s the cutest little pajama set, and she looks adorable in the tank top, fuzzy pants, and even fuzzier slippers. Her hair is a little tangled, and her face is clean of makeup, her rumpled appearance making her look like she just rolled out of bed.

She is absolutely stunning.

A tiny smile curls my lips at the adorable image, then I frown when I notice she’s covered in even more bruises than were visible yesterday, and I can’t help but wonder how much more is hidden under her clothing. I curl my hands into fists to keep from reaching for her, then I tuck them behind my back when that doesn’t seem to help.

“Oh, um…I didn’t think you would come. Honestly, I thought I scared you off.” She flashes me a rueful smile, vulnerability entering her shimmering teal eyes as she fiddles with the strings of her pants. “If you still want to go, I could get changed?”

Maybe I should let her off the hook, but now that I’m face-to-face with her, I can’t let her go, even if I have to steal and cheat to spend time with her. I forgot how beautiful she was, thought I’d imagined it, but if anything, she’s even more stunning.

Just breathing the same air as her is calming, and all my doubts melt away. “I would love to take you shopping. I can wait out here until you’re ready.”

There’s no fucking way I’m going to offer to come back and give her a chance to change her mind.

She scowls, popping her head out the door, then shakes her head. “No, that’s unacceptable.” Just when my spirits fall, she grabs my arm, drags me inside, then slams the door shut. She purses her lips as she looks around the kitchen, then prods me toward the kitchen table. “Sit. I’ll be right back.”

She takes a few steps away, holding her hands out to make sure I stay, before spinning on her heels and charging up the stairs. She’s so light on her feet, I can barely hear her move through the house.

A smile plays on my lips, a hum of happiness leaving me almost giddy. The kitchen is almost as familiar to me as my own…not that Mrs. Killaghan cooks often, but she is a master at reheating takeout. She has a special knack for knowing whenever any of us are upset and prepares the best tea and cookies.

Shifting in my chair, I spy a book resting on the table—How to Navigate the Afterlife. Alarm sparks through me at the thought of anything happening to either woman. I drag the book closer and hunch over the pages, searching for clues about the owner.

I nearly sag in relief when I realize it’s a journal of some type. Pawing through it, I scan the pages, a furrow appearing between my brows at the mention of spirits and ghosts and how to deal with the dead.

More confused than ever, I pull the book closer. Mrs. Killaghan is kooky, but I didn’t think she was crazy. The book is old, the pages brittle, the writing almost too faded to read.

It’s a diary.

I desperately want to slip the book into my pocket and smuggle it to Ellis to study. The pages are worn, well-loved, and obviously highly treasured. Rue would immediately discover it was missing and figure out I had stolen it.

As much as I desperately want to understand Rue better, I can’t risk pissing her off. I suspect if she discovered me even looking at the book, she would not be happy. Maybe I should respect her privacy, but the need to know more about her is hard to be denied.

I flip back toward the beginning of the book and scan the pages. The journal belongs to a twenty-year-old woman who lived over a hundred years ago. She talks about her ability to see spirits and her slow slide into insanity.

Each page of her struggle is more heartbreaking than the last. Flipping to the end of the book, I discover that she was committed and died in a sanitarium before she turned twenty-three. Wanting to know what the hell happened, I flip back to the beginning, only to slam the book shut when I hear light steps on the stairs.

I shove the book across the table, cursing when it almost slides off the edge. I lunge forward, fumbling not to knock over the table, and desperately try to remember where the book was resting before I began snooping. By the time I finally get it situated, I’m sweating and no doubt looking like a guilty mess.

I completely forget everything, though, when Rue breezes into the room. My mouth waters as the smell of lilies swirls around the kitchen, and damn if my cock doesn’t feel like a pretzel in my pants when it hardens way too fast.

“Hey,” I croak out, then I clear my throat while fighting a blush. When I straighten, I huddle behind the chair, desperately clutching it to me in the hopes that she won’t notice my erection. The last thing I want to do is scare her off.

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