Page 59 of Ghosted
He steps closer, until the toes of his polished shoes nudge against my strappy heels. “Take the compliment,” he murmurs before taking my chin in his hand and brushing a light kiss against my lips.
I drop my arms with a sigh, feeling the blood rush back to my aching biceps. “Can you please finish zipping me up? We’ve had a grave mechanical error.”
He steps around me and zips my dress up in one swift motion, and then settles his hands on my shoulders. I look at the two of us in the mirror. With his perfectly tailored suit and my blood-red gown, we look ready to dash off into one of my fantasy romances. Although, his shirt could probably be more frilly. Piratey, even. But real-world Dean will more than do. “I very much like this dress,” Dean says in my ear, thumbs gliding under the off-the-shoulder straps.
“Yeah? I was hoping so. You don’t think it’s too much?” I ask, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his intense focus.
I watch in the mirror as his eyes trace down the plunging cutout of the dress, which reveals the very tips of my sternum tattoo. A faint flush reddens his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Dammit, Rae. I’m fucking flabbergasted. How am I supposed to have any coherent thoughts when you look like this?” His hands glide over my ample hips, and he shimmies me a little so the dress fans out. “Actually, yes. I do think it’s too much.”
My stomach sinks. “Oh,” I say, feeling all kinds of disappointed. I lower my eyes, hoping he doesn’t read the embarrassment in them.
“It’s too much because how am I supposed to handle it if anyone stares at you for too long tonight? The most I canmanage with anyone else is a little shovel shaking, but I’ll want to scoop someone’s eyes out if they look anywhere below your neck,” he says and then frowns. “Nose, actually. I’ll want to cause bodily harm to anyone who looks too long below your nose. Your lips are just too fucking perfect with that red lipstick.” He places the pad of his thumb against my lower lip, and I bite it gently. He withdraws his hand with a groan.
“So it’s too much because it makes you feel possessive?” I ask, eyebrow raised and butterflies pressing against the walls of my stomach.
He just grunts in answer, spinning me away from the mirror to face him. “Yes. But it also makes me want to show you off. You are always beautiful, but tonight you’re extraordinary. I hope you have fun. I’ll be around, attempting to ring the neck of anyone who gets too close or looks too hard,” he says, eyes crinkling with mirth.
“Never in my life would I have thought I’d find the threat of violence hot, but here we are,” I quip, dipping my finger in his dimple playfully.
“First time for everything,” he replies. His face softens as he looks at me, running his thumb along my jaw. He kisses me chastely, at first. But when I suck in a breath and drag him closer, he follows my lead and nips at my lower lip until I open for him. Just when I’m about to give up on the ball altogether, he says, “Go. Do what you need to do. And then tonight I want to see what this dress looks like on the floor.”
I breathe out a laugh at his line before turning to the mirror for one final check. I sigh when I see the state of my lipstick, heading for the bathroom to get a makeup wipe. I make quick work of the repair job, take one last look in the mirror, and swipe my phone off the counter. A glance at the timemakes me hurry my steps. “Okay, time to go. Thanks for the assist,” I say, blowing him a kiss.
“Anytime, Alderwood,” he drolls, following me out the door.
He wasn’t joking about watching me tonight. Cool. No pressure.
THIRTY-FOUR
I down thelast dregs of my champagne flute before walking to the auction table, eyes popping at some of the generous bids. The most popular by far was donated by a local cabin resort. It’s an all-inclusive weekend stay in one of their treehouse cabins. If I had more money, I would have bid it all on that. A weekend in the trees with no one bothering me but room service and spa treatments sounds like a dream.
The dollar amounts listed under each auction item loosens the little knot in my chest. The silent auction still has thirty minutes before it closes, so those numbers might even rise a bit more before the end. This isn’t a long-term solution, but it’ll give us a little more breathing room.
I press a hand over my sternum and look at the crowd bedecked in evening gowns and suits, overwhelmed with gratitude that this town showed up for us. Everything has gone well tonight so far, but I don’t want to think about it too hard in case I jinx it. Many of the local business owners have made anappearance, as well as a few tourists who were drawn to the glitz and glamour of the night. I worked hard on advertising this thing online, and I’m glad to see it paid off.
I pop my head in on Aunt C, making sure she’s doing okay and not in need of anything. This is the most readings she’s done back-to-back in a while, and I know they can be draining for her. Even though she doesn’t have the Gift, she works hard on interpreting the tarot for her clients, trying to help them find meaning in them. Luckily, she seems to have a small pause in clients, so I can chat with her for a second.
“Hey, Aunt C. Need anything?” I ask, stepping further into the room and watching as she deftly shuffles the deck in her hands.
“I’m alright, darling. Thanks for checking in. Are you ready for your…ah, work?” she asks, stumbling a little over the words she’s trying to avoid saying. We’ve managed to keep my little secret from the town so far, and I don’t want an eavesdropper to be the reason everyone suddenly knows I’m a medium.
“Yeah. I think I’ll be able to sneak in without much notice. Wren is still planning on being the guide, right?” We had planned for her to take Aunt C’s place tonight in explaining how the medium thing works for my clients and leading them into my Medium Meeting Room. I circulated the party for a good hour or so because I’m sure people would have thought it strange if I hadn’t shown up to the ball that I’ve worked so hard for. I’m just hoping no one will notice my little disappearing act.
“Yes, she’s ready to go. She should be hovering outside your door as we speak,” Aunt C replies, just as Yuri, the local florist, bustles in, long gown trailing behind her.
“Clarissa! It’s been far too long since my last reading. I havea new question I want to focus on,” Yuri says, hardly paying me any attention in her excitement. She sits down in the chair opposite my aunt, sets a handful of bills on the table, and launches into a detailed account of what she’s seeking answers on. I laugh under my breath at the line of her questioning (something about pursuing two men and wondering which one she should go with), and leave them to it.
Outside the door in the short hallway, I briefly meet Dean’s gaze and smile. He’s been flitting about the party all evening and has been whispering the gossip he picks up in my ear like an old lady intent on sharing their prized intel at bingo. The little gossip monger has revealed that two of the tourists are cheating on their spouses with each other, someone else is close to losing their house because they have a gambling problem, and another person got caught sending nudes to a model from LA. I’ll never be able to look Marcus, our local pharmacist, in the eye again.
I gesture with my chin to the door at the end of the hall that leads into the narrow alleyway. Dean follows me out, and I keep one foot hooked around the door so it doesn’t lock me out.
“Listen, I’m about to do my readings, so don’t pop in there and confuse things, okay? I think you would freak the other ghosts out,” I say, glancing around to make sure no one is eavesdropping.
He gives me a mock salute and says, “You got it, boss. I’m going to go follow that man in the pin-striped suit. I saw him slip off his wedding ring earlier.”
“You know, I should probably be disturbed by how much you’re enjoying this.”
Dean smirks. “I’m a lawyer. I love gossip.”
