Page 18 of Hallowed Tree
I sat down and grabbed his wrist, pulling him down next to me and lining us back together. It wasn’t a perfect fit. In fact, half of my body hung off, but that was okay. I didn’t actually need the support of the furniture to maintain my position.
“What are you doing?” He squeaked.
“Cuddling you.” I pressed my nose into the crook of his neck.
“Why?”
I bit back a chuckle at his horrified tone. “Because this is what couples do.”
He went dead still. Literally. “Oh.”
“It’s okay, love. Wrap your arms around me and relax. You’ll enjoy it.”
Stiff and awkward, he hesitantly moved his arms back around me. I adjusted around to give him space to slip one arm between me and the couch. Once he settled, I slipped one of my legs between his and inhaled deeply at his neck.
Senses had been interesting in death. Back in the hospital where I’d died, I’d initially been confused as to why no one answered me. It was like they couldn’t see me. Which…hello, it soon became apparent they couldn’t.
Then I noticed that the distinctive smells of the hospital no longer polluted my nose. Those odd medicinal and cleansing product scents were just…gone. Next, I realized I wasn’t cold. How was that possible? Hospitals were always freezing, but there I was, gown on and ass out, and I was comfortable. As I had been ever since.
In the time since, a metaphorical chill would run up my spine on a crisp morning or in the rain. Floral scents would permeate the air around me if I strolled through the gardens, and the beloved smell of yeast and sugar engulfed me when I baked in the kitchen. Of course, it was all nothing more than memories overlapping into my new reality.
Until Harry. Everything with Harry defied the normal rules of death. We never met in life. How could we with the century separating us? And yet, his unique aroma filled me as if we were still alive. Real. Tangible.
He smelled of citrus and sandalwood and mine. I’d been so bummed when I realized my life had been cut short, but now I knew Harry was my fate.
“I think I was destined to find you, love. The universe knew I had to make it here—that you were ready for me.”
He gasped, and I smiled against his skin, pressing a small kiss to his neck. I’d really been looking forward to getting my uptight, grumpy butler naked, but maybe this was where he needed to start. Snuggling and acting like any other new couple.
Harry
Never in my very long existence had a man held me so closely and spoke so sweetly. It was extremely disconcerting. And nice.Really, really nice. Rarely had I found myself at a loss for words since I found my calling here at Willowhope Manor, but I had no idea how to respond to him.
Bringing order to chaos, cooking, cleaning, and all the other tasks it took to run the B&B filled me with purpose. I knew how to serve and treat my employers with respect. But this…personal interaction with layers of intimacy deeper than meeting carnal needs…
“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted softly.
“You don’t have to say anything. All you have to do is relax and let me hold you.”
Was that really all he wanted? All he needed? I felt myself solidifying more as I leaned into him and attempted to just be and enjoy it. As the silence settled around us, the familiar sounds of the house at night grew louder—the click of the second hand on the grandfather clock as it ticked away the passage of time, the creeks in the floorboards above as Scotty moved around his room, the hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen—and I unwound further at the familiarity.
The rustle of the wind in the trees outside drew my attention, bringing the newest dilemma on the property to the forefront of my mind. Why couldn’t we ever have a moment of peace? The absence of space I felt beside the old oak tree really jarred me. I’d never experienced a sensation like that before—living or dead—and I’d happily forgo ever encountering it again. Unfortunately, I didn’t think that was possible.
“What are you thinking about so hard?”
“Nothing.” It was well known that I was always the party pooper, obsessed with order and timeliness. Always fretting over every little thing. Just once, I wanted to be like Buck and go with the flow. Why couldn’t I ever turn off my mind?
He chuckled. “Hate to call your bluff, but where your hair should be is all wispy.”
“Wispy? What does that mean?” I grabbed the top of my head or tried to anyway. Instead, the whole upper portion of my head was nothing but floating dust—minuscule grains of my essence. “Goodness. What’s happening with me lately?”
He cupped my cheek with one large hand. “You can’t hide anything from me, love. It’s different than for the living, but it seems that even in this form, we have tells. Like when you’re blushing.”
Ugh. I’d hoped he’d never mention that. I scrambled out from beside him and floated up over the settee. How embarrassing. For the first time ever, my spirit form was betraying me, and in front of this man who wanted me. This wouldn’t do.
Buck joined me in the air and sat cross-legged, grinning widely. “This is fun. You should do it, too.”
The big goof.Why did I put up with his childlike behavior? I stared into his happy face and knew. Because he was fun. It was as simple as that, but for me, complicated. When had my life ever been fun?
