Once Haunted, Twice Shy (The Peyton Clark Series Book 2)

  Hmm, maybe I wasn’t exactly being the best host.

  As fate would have it, I was spared from further consternation regarding Drake’s cabin fever when my cell phone rang. I immediately opened my eyes, shattering Drake’s dreamscape, and reached for my cell phone, which was currently in my pocket.

  “Who is calling us?” Drake demanded, irritably.

  “Ryan,” I answered with a smile after I glanced at the caller ID. I added, “And he’s calling me, not us.” The truth was I hadn’t exactly spilled the beans about Drake to Ryan. Well, not as far as Drake’s taking domicile in my body, anyway. Yes, this was information that Ryan absolutely had the right to know, especially after the intimate moments he and I had shared; and I was more than sure he wouldn’t think three was company. Yes, Ryan for sure needed to know about Drake, and it was just a matter of time before I told him.

  “Pey?” Ryan’s voice sounded on the other line as soon as I clicked the phone icon. “You there?”

  “Yep, I’m here,” I answered quickly, inhaling deeply and then exhaling as I tried to calm my nerves. Somehow, they always went on high alert whenever I talked to Ryan. “Hi.”

  “Hi.” He chuckled and I felt my lips break into a smile of their own accord. There was nothing I loved listening to more than Ryan’s thick Southern drawl. “What are you doin’?”

  Arguing with Drake, I thought, but knew I couldn’t say that out loud. Well, not yet, anyway. I really did plan on telling Ryan about Drake soon though. Maybe even today . . . that is, if the opportunity presented itself. “Um, I’m not doing anything, why?” I asked.

  “Oui, that is the problem,” Drake grumbled in my mind. “And we shall continue not to do anything for the foreseeable future, it appears.”

  “Shut it, you!” I thought back at him.

  “Then let me swing by an’ pick you up and we’ll go to Commander’s for lunch,” Ryan said. “I’m just a couple streets over.”

  “Where are you?” I asked.

  “Chestnut an’ Fourth,” he answered before muttering something underneath his breath, apparently directed at whatever car had just cut him off.

  “What are you doing over there?”

  “I’ll tell you when I see you,” he answered quickly. “I’m turnin’ on Prytania now. Commander’s—yes? No?”

  “Commander’s is fine,” I answered as I shook my head, wondering what Ryan could possibly be up to that he’d have to wait to tell me about it when he saw me. As to Commander’s Palace, it was my favorite restaurant in the area where Ryan and I lived, the Garden District of New Orleans. Luckily for me, Ryan lived just five houses down the street from me.

  “Alright, doll, I’ll see you in a minute,” Ryan said before hanging up.

  “Am I to understand that this means we will be venturing out today?” Drake sounded from inside my head, his tone of voice audibly excited.

  “Yep, guess this is your lucky day,” I answered out loud as I glanced down at myself and decided I should look more presentable. My gray sweatpants had been doubling as my pajama bottoms for the last two nights. The top I wore made my ample breasts look pretty good, although the ketchup smudge above the right one was pretty unsexy.

  Taking a deep breath, I jumped up from the tub and launched myself into my bedroom, which was also one of a few guest bedrooms in my house. The master bedroom still wasn’t finished. Ryan had agreed to tackle the remodeling of the first floor of my three-story house, and so far, he’d managed to finish the guest bedroom and bathroom, the foyer, and the hallway. The kitchen was completely gutted, although the plumbing was the only item able to be checked off at this point.

  Throwing my closet doors open, I hemmed and hawed until my eyes settled on my tight-fitting, white spandex turtleneck sweater, which just happened to look phenomenal when paired with my equally tight 7 For All Mankind jeans. The butt cheeks of the jeans were nicely accented with rhinestone detailing. A little bling really did go a long way. I reached for the sweater and the jeans and threw both onto my bed. Wiggling out of my sweatpants, I had to be careful to focus on the wall across from me because my view was Drake’s view.

  “Quelle honte,” Drake’s voice sounded in my head. “What a shame.”

  Yanking the dark-blue jeans up my thighs, I stared at the ceiling as I pulled my sweatshirt over my head, being careful not to glance down at my bra, which was lacy and see-through. Yes, I could have just thought the words to prevent Drake from sharing my view, but that was just another step I’d have to take. And another step meant more time I didn’t have. (I had to concentrate like an SOB in order for my words to work.)

  “What are you going on about?” I thought, only half paying attention to our silent conversation. I found it somewhat difficult to push my arms into my sweater and pull it over my head without allowing my breasts to come into view.

  “I am always eager to view your lovely body, ma minette, whenever you are in the act of disrobing, and yet you thwart me at every turn,” Drake grumbled. “If that is not a great shame, I do not know what is.”

  “You know what blows my mind?” I asked.

  “Non, I do not, ma minette, please enlighten me.”

  Once dressed, I glanced at the mirror and frowned at my reflection. My hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, but it was so short, it looked more like a Doberman Pinscher’s cropped tail. Pieces of platinum-blond hair stuck out this way and that, looking exactly like what it was—hair that hadn’t been brushed in a day or more. I sighed as I realized it was a job that would call for more time than I actually had. Eyeing my black baseball cap where it sat on the chair just beside my bed, I reached for it and covered my head.

  “You are exceedingly attractive, mon chaton,” Drake continued, calling me his other pet name of choice: my kitten.

  After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I grabbed my favorite lipstick at the moment, a Lip Tar called “Annika,” which was lying on my bedside table. I painted the highly pigmented pink gloss onto my lips before making a pouty sort of face and wishing I could Botox out the line that appeared between my eyebrows.

  “As I was saying,” I continued. “It blows my mind that after one hundred years of being dead, you are still so horny.”

  Drake chuckled a deep, rumbling laugh that seemed to sound throughout my entire body. I even felt myself smiling in response. “Ah, is that not more reason for me to be so ‘horny’ as you phrase it? It has been a lifetime since I have experienced a woman.” He paused for a few moments while I dusted my cheeks with blush. “I wonder what the experience would be like for me if you were to . . . pleasure yourself?”

  “Oh my God!” I sounded exasperated and shocked at the same time. “Drake!”

  He chuckled again and as I was about to lambaste him, my front doorbell rang. I glanced at myself one more time and figured I looked as good as I was going to for the time being. With a sigh, I started for the hallway.

  “I do hope you will enlighten le barbare about me at lunch today,” Drake said.

  “That’s what I was planning.”

  Without waiting for his response, I pulled open the front door and felt my heartbeat start to race when I found Ryan standing there, wearing that lopsided, dimpled, boyish smile of his. Along with his adorable smile, he wore navy Dockers-type pants with a button-down, short-sleeved shirt, which failed to hide the expanse of his shoulders or the generous swells of his biceps and muscled forearms.

  “Hi,” I said almost shyly as I smiled up at him and wished my heart would slow down. One of these days, he would give me a heart attack.

  Saying nothing, he took a few steps toward me and before I knew it, I was airborne as he lifted me by my waist until we were face-to-face. Then he offered me a quick smile before his lips were on mine. I felt like I might choke on all the butterflies that were now making their way out of my stomach and up my throat.

  “Ma
minette!” Drake yelled from within me. “I do not appreciate this!”

  I instantly pulled away from Ryan and felt the heat of my embarrassment claim my cheeks. I ran my hand across my face as I took a deep breath, smiling up at Ryan as he put me back on my feet.

  “I’m sorry,” he said with a large smile. “I can’t seem to control myself whenever I’m around you.”

  I laughed. “It’s okay; I like it.” Then I remembered I was the one who pulled away from him. “I was just worried that one of our neighbors might see us.”

  Ryan waved away my concern with his large hand. “Who cares?” He smiled down at me again, taking stock of my outfit. “I like that ensemble,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “Legs go on forever and your breasts are just beggin’ for some attention.”

  “Ryan!” I said with feigned surprise and a nervous giggle.

  “If I were in the flesh, I do believe this man’s overtures would cause me to vomit,” Drake said from deep within me. I, however, decided to ignore him.

  “Shall we?” Ryan asked as he grinned down at me. “I’m eager to parade you around on my arm.” Then his smile broadened. “That is, of course, if you’ll oblige me?”

  I cocked a brow at him and pretended to consider it before I felt a smile surfacing on my lips. “I’ll oblige you.”

  As soon as I stepped into Ryan’s white Ford F-350 truck, Drake’s questions started. I couldn’t say I was surprised, but I also could barely muster the energy to deal with him.

  “Incroyable! What form of automobile is this?” Drake started. “Is it powered by steam? I have never seen anything so grand! Not even our patrol wagon could compete with the scale of this . . . monstrosity!”

  “This is called a truck,” I responded, immediately feeling exhausted. “And no, it’s not powered by steam. It’s powered by gasoline . . . maybe it’s diesel, I’m not sure.”

  “Il est énorme! It is enormous! Please turn your head so I can behold the entirety of this . . . colossal beast.”

  I glanced from left to right, taking in the interior passenger cab, then over to the center console seat between Ryan and me, and finally, the driver’s cab.

  “And the rear?” Drake continued. “I would like to see what is behind us.”

  I rolled my eyes, figuring Drake would nag me until I acquiesced, I glanced at Ryan where he sat behind the wheel and smiled, trying to appear as normal as possible, given the circumstances. And the circumstances were way beyond normal—chiefly, there was a ghost inside me, barking out orders left and right.

  “Hi, Pey,” Ryan said with that stunner of a smile. “How’re you holdin’ up in that house of yours?”

  He was referring to the exorcism that had been conducted in my house only days prior. Christopher, the warlock, and his companion, Lovie, had (hopefully) ousted a malevolent entity that had resided in my house and had not only physically assaulted me, but had also tried its damndest to completely wipe Drake out.

  I shook my head, instantly feeling my stomach flip-flop when I recalled the ritual, which had reduced the temperature inside my house to such a degree that I could see my breath. Then there were the gusty winds blowing through the rooms even though none of the windows were open, followed by what felt like an earthquake originating at the center of the house. The climax of the whole ordeal had come when all the windows in the house exploded as the entity was forcibly extricated. Luckily for me, that same day Ryan had managed to get his construction crew over to the house and they’d replaced all the windows. What he told them by way of explanation, I had no clue. As to the construction on my house, I’d asked Ryan to take a break this week and last. I wasn’t in the proper emotional state to deal with much more than what was already on my plate.

  “I’m okay, so far,” I said. “I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary, which is good.”

  “That is good,” he answered as he nodded thoughtfully before shaking his head. “I have never experienced anythin’ like that.” He glanced over at me and chuckled. “An’ I hope never to experience it again!”

  “You and me both!” I laughed as I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I’m just so happy you were there with me. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Thank you.”

  “We’re in this together, Peyton, don’t forget that,” Ryan replied as he turned from the red light in front of us and faced me, kissing the top of my hand.

  “Assez de balivernes!” Drake interrupted. “Enough of this drivel! I need to understand this machine, this truck. How does it operate? What are all these gadgets along the dashboard? Ma minette, please show me the remainder of this brute! I am in awe!”

  “You are so obnoxious!” I replied, shaking my head before thinking better of it. Even though Drake’s demands were driving me nuts, I’d expected them. It made sense that he was awestruck by everything he was experiencing through me, so I figured I’d just throw him a bone and give in to his demands.

  I released Ryan’s hand just as the light went green and allowed my eyes to travel to the dashboard, where the CD player dominated the square area of the center dash. I heard Drake’s gasp as I focused on the two circular air vents flanking either side of the CD player.

  “What are they?” he asked.

  “Air conditioning and heating vents. They push out either hot or cold air, depending on which you want.”

  “Stupéfiant! Astonishing!” Drake replied. “And those buttons below the vents?”

  “Those are the controls that regulate the air temperature,” I answered as I glanced farther down at the climate controls, one set for the driver and one for the passenger. “The ones just beside the blue and red buttons heat up the seats.”

  “The seats can be heated?” Drake repeated in a tone of utter disbelief. He grew quiet for a few seconds before he spoke again. “I am amazed at the advancements society has made in just shy of one hundred years. I am struck dumb, ma minette, struck dumb.”

  I figured Drake would still be interested in seeing the backseat of Ryan’s truck so I checked behind his seat and then turned my body so I could take in the length of the backseat and the extended cab behind that. I hummed something, trying to maintain the guise of casual interest as I studied the area just behind my seat before facing forward again.

  “Lookin’ for somethin’?” Ryan asked as he peered over at me curiously.

  “I was just wondering why your truck is so clean? Aren’t men supposed to be pack rats or, at the very least, cluttery?” I shot back, impressed with my off-the-cuff response.

  He chuckled. “Not this man.”

  “So, uh, why were you over at Chestnut and Fourth?” I asked, attempting to start up a conversation to detract from the conversation going on between Drake and myself in my head. “Remember, you said you’d tell me in the car?”

  “Ah right,” Ryan answered with a nod. “An old client of mine, Ms. Wilson, is interested in expandin’ her front porch so she asked me to stop over an’ I did.”

  “Really?” I asked with a genuine smile. “Are you going to do it for her?”

  He glanced over at me and chuckled. “If I can ever finish your job—maybe.”

  Even though it might not have seemed monumental that Ryan was considering work at Ms. Wilson’s, it was huge in my book. Ryan had spent the majority of his adult years working for himself in construction, when his wife had died suddenly on one of his jobs. He’d sworn off construction work altogether; that is, until I forced him to take on the renovation of my house . . .

  “C’est incroyable! It is unbelievable,” Drake interrupted as I settled my attention on my passenger door, resting my arm against the window. “What are those buttons on the panel of the door there?”

  I pushed the button and rolled down the window, then pulled up on it to roll it back up again.

  “Ah!” Drake sounded thrilled. “And the button just beside
it?”

  I locked and unlocked the door while answering, “Door locks.”

  “You all right, Pey?” Ryan asked as he glanced at me with furrowed brows, apparently finding it odd for me to roll my window up and down while locking and unlocking my door. “You seem a little restless, like you can’t sit still.”

  “I’m fine,” I answered immediately, realizing how neurotic I must’ve appeared. “I’m just hungry, that’s all.”

  Ryan laughed and we pulled into the parking lot of Commander’s Palace. “Well, luckily for you, we’re here.” He shifted the truck into park and turned off the engine, but made no motion to open his door.

  I glanced up from where I was intently studying the center console, figuring I’d end up explaining all the buttons and gadgets there for Drake as well. Lifting my eyes up to look out the windshield, I spotted Commander’s Palace, the striped awning of the turquoise Victorian building hard to miss. My stomach grumbled in response. Apparently, Drake wasn’t the only one who was sick of Frosted Flakes.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Peyton?” Ryan asked as I turned to face him. “You don’t seem like yourself.”

  I waved him away with an unconcerned hand, all the while scolding myself for not doing a better job of acting normal. “I’m fine.” But I knew he wouldn’t go for my brief explanation because my actions weren’t those of a person who feels “fine.” “I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately . . . We’ve gone through hell and back. You know that.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I do.” Then he smiled his boyish, adorable smile and made me feel all giddy inside. “Everything that happened is behind us now, Peyton. We need to focus on movin’ forward.”

  I was sure it was a statement he’d repeated to himself many times. In his case, though, he was moving on after the death of his wife. “You’re right,” I said softly with a grin before returning my attention to the beautiful building in front of us.

  “Commander’s Palace . . .” Drake piped up from inside my head.

  “Yep,” I answered. Commander’s Palace had always been a Garden District go-to since the late 1800s, so I wasn’t exactly surprised that Drake recognized it.