Double Dating with the Dead Karen Kelley (top ten books to read .txt) 📖

an almost sinister look. Way beyond Miami Vice sexiness. No, this look was more as though he’d been chewed up and spit out—several times.

She might be a little leery of him in this condition except for his bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes that told a different story. The man had gotten very little sleep.

Damn, she was good.

She pretended concern. “You look terrible, Trent. Didn’t you sleep well last night?”

“No, I didn’t sleep well last night,” he growled.

“Bad dreams?”

“You could say that.”

She clicked her tongue. His look grew darker before he turned away and reached inside the cabinet for cups.

He hadn’t seen nothin’ yet! She was just getting wound up. Her eyes narrowed as she looked around the room and landed on the loaf of bread.

Perfect.

While he poured the coffee, she sauntered to the cabinet drawers and opened one. Reaching inside, she pulled out a knife and held it in front of her. When he faced her again, he almost dropped the cups.

“What the hell are you doing with that knife?” he bellowed.

She innocently widened her eyes and picked up the loaf of bread. “Toast and jelly. Want some?”

“No, I don’t want any.” He eyed the knife. “Yes, I do. Put the knife down and I’ll fix it.”

She shrugged, but laid the knife on the counter. “Whatever.” She took her coffee to the table, wondering if she could get him to fix lunch if she wielded another knife in his direction. It was an idea.

Yum, her own personal slave. Now, that was revenge at its best.

Once she was seated, she leaned back in the chair and watched as he moved around the kitchen. Trent looked quite at home. She sighed. If only he didn’t have to be such an ass.

After the toast popped up, he buttered it, slathered jam on one side and sliced it down the middle.

“Here.” He set the saucer of toast in the middle of the table.

“Thank you,” she replied sweetly.

“You’re welcome.” His words were gruff, but he seemed a little more relaxed than when she first came into the kitchen. That wouldn’t do. Not at all.

She waited for him to take a drink. “There’s a full moon tonight.”

He choked.

“Are you all right?”

He coughed, then cleared his throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What’s what supposed to mean?” she asked.

“The fact that there’s a full moon.” He set his cup on the table. “What does that have to do with anything?”

She shook her head. “I was just making idle conversation.”

He looked skeptical but let the matter drop. Not that she planned to, though.

“It’s called Hunter’s Moon. Some call it Blood Moon,” she nonchalantly stated.

He choked again.

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine,” he growled.

“You know full moons are associated with insanity. That’s where the term lunacy comes from. Lunacy…lunar.”

“Yeah, I get it. I still don’t know what that has to do with anything.”

She straightened in her chair. “Well, you don’t have to get so testy. I thought you might be interested in knowing more about what you were criticizing.”

“Well, I don’t want to know more.”

“Fine. Then consider the matter dropped.”

“You are so bad,” Dixie said when she popped into the room.

Wesley was right behind her. “I thought he deserved it.”

She stirred her coffee, pretending two ghosts hadn’t just entered into the conversation. Wait, why should she pretend anything. Why not perpetuate the situation?

“You’re so right, Wesley. Everything, plus some.”

Trent glanced around, then returned his gaze to her.

“Wesley and Dixie are here,” she explained.

“The ghosts?”

She nodded and reached for a piece of toast. She took a bite and slowly chewed.

“Why don’t you ask them where their bones are? Wouldn’t that solve your dilemma?”

“They don’t remember everything that happened.”

“How convenient.”

Wesley stretched his legs out on the counter, leaning back on his elbows. “Maybe if you hit him over the head with a frying pan, he’d listen to you. My ma did that to my pa once, and he never gave her a bit of trouble after that.” He frowned. “Course, he wasn’t quite right after that day, either. Used to mumble to himself a lot.”

“Maybe the mumbling is an inherited trait,” Dixie said.

“You sure are getting a smart mouth, woman.”

“Why don’t you tell them to show themselves to me? That would also clear up a lot of things. Plus, you’d win the challenge.”

“They don’t like you.”

“Now, I never said that,” Dixie said.

“You like that city slicker?” Wesley frowned.

“He’s not hard on the eyes.” Dixie moved closer. Trent shivered as if a cold breeze brushed over him. “Actually, I think he’s rather handsome.”

“Don’t that just beat all I ever heard.” Wesley jumped off the cabinet and swiped his arm through the air. The roll of paper towels that was on the island rolled off and thumped softly on the floor before he left in a poof of dark gray.

Trent jumped and turned.

Dixie grinned. “There’s nothing like a little jealousy to spice up a relationship.” She vanished in a split second.

“The door must’ve blown open. Did you feel that cool breeze?”

She came to her feet. “The door didn’t come open. Wesley got mad when Dixie said you were cute. He knocked the paper towels off. The cool breeze, as you call it, was from the energy they created.” She stomped out of the room. Cute yes, smart no.

Plan A complete.

Now on to Plan B.

When she got through with him, he’d think twice about messing with an angry psychic.

Chapter 24

Selena had disappeared.

Every little squeak, every little bump, had Trent jumping. Hell, he didn’t know if the next corner he went around would be his last. What if Selena was crouched down just waiting to plunge a knife into him?

This was ridiculous. Selena was not a lunatic.

He slipped outside, thankful for the cool breeze as the evening waned and nightfall descended around him. But just to be on the safe side, he did a cursory look in his immediate vicinity.

No knife-wielding anything, only a foraging squirrel beneath one of the trees. He soundly scolded Trent for disturbing his meal-hunting expedition, then scurried off.

Trent stepped