Page 58 of Ghost Note

“If at any point, you want to sing for me, though…” he whispered.

“Not a chance, Danny.”

“A guy can dream.” And dream, he did.

Not long after, his breaths evened out and sleep finally took him, leaving me to lie there in his arms like we were lovers of old.

* * *

Sleep somehow caught up with me again, and time passed until the noise of the early morning risers made me stir. I heard the milk delivery being dropped off at the B&B’s back doors, and my head shot up to take in the surroundings. The day was alive, and the sky bright blue now. It wouldn’t be long before the tourists descended, and the locals went about their days.

“Danny,” I hissed, shaking his chest as I looked over to the fire escape steps. “Danny, wake up.”

His sleepy groan made me break out in goosebumps, and when I looked down at him, his eyes were barely open enough to take me in.

“We have to go,” I told him quietly. “Everyone is waking up. We need to get out of here.”

“No.” He tried to pull me back to him, but I pushed him off until I was standing over his long body, stretching out my aches and pains from sleeping on a damn rooftop. “Zee, why did you have to wake me up and ruin my dream?”

With a deep groan, Danny rolled over onto his stomach and pressed his head into his hands, giving me a perfect view of his strong, athletically toned backside beneath those tight jeans. I had to look away and remind myself he wasn’t mine to ogle anymore.

Sometime between me trying to count to a hundred to distract myself, and him muttering about what an injustice it was, he made himself get up, and he threw my backpack over his shoulder, rubbing a sleepy eye with his knuckles when he came to a stop in front of me.

“Okay, Sarge, where we headed?”

I raised a brow. “Wearen’t going anywhere. I’m going home to change and freshen up before another long day at work, and you… you’re going back to wherever it is you’re staying…” My voice trailed off, and I frowned up at him. “Where are you staying?”

“Gran’s place… which is technically my place now, I guess.” He frowned, too. “At least until I sell it.”

I gaped at him. “You’re selling it?”

“I mean—”

“You can’t sell Florence’s house!” I cried too loudly to go undetected.

Danny glanced over the edge of the roof before he looked back at me, confused. “I can’t keep it. The place would be left to rot. I’m never here.”

“Then get a cleaner to freshen it up once a week.”

“And just leave it with no life inside? What a waste of a home.”

“Okay. Well… I don’t know. Use your head and put it up for rent or something. You own a frickin’ lettings agency, for God’s sake. You can’t sell it!”

“Daisy, shh.” He stepped forward, pressing a hand to my shoulder while the other went to his lips to silence me. “You’re going to be heard.”

“I don’t care,” I hissed. “You can’t sell that house, Danny. All that history. The memories. Flo would hate it.”I’d hate it.“Can you imagine if she knew someone who wasn’t a Silver owned her dream home? The very thing that her and Albie worked their whole lives for.”

“What does it matter to you?”

“How can you ask me that? You should already know.”

His eyes searched mine, his face falling soft before he rubbed his lips together and looked away. “It’s too early for this conversation. We should go.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you promise me you won’t sell that house, Danny.”

“Daisy—”

“Promise me!”

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