Open the door.
Shay looked around. There was that voice again. A man, but it was just Grammy and her inside. Clearly stress was catching up with her. She didn’t believe in ghosts.
Not anymore.
A second knock on the door had her feet moving forward.
Still… “Save the theatrics for the team, O’Malley,” she muttered.
Shay opened the door to find the three guys and a camera in her face. They weren’t wasting any time, but cameras rolling before they even said hello? Were they hoping O’Malley would appear to let them in?
Slowly the camera lowered.
“Shay?”
That face.
That voice.
Everything inside of her lit up like the night sky on the Fourth of July, until she remembered why she hadn’t seen him or heard from him in years and why they were standing on her grandmother’s front step.
“Oh hell no.”
Shay slammed the door shut and put her back against the cool wood.
Chapter 2
“Grammy, we need to talk,” Shay called out. “Now.”
Her grandmother dressed in white slacks and a lemon-colored shirt, looking nothing like a lady who carried on conversations with a dead man on a regular basis, walked down the hall.
“Shay, what’s wrong? Where are the ghost hunters?” A knock on the door answered her second question. “Oh, for Pete’s sake. We’re not having this discussion again. Now, if you can’t mind your manners, you don’t have to stay.”
Her grandmother gave her the look, the same one Shay saw in the mirror when she was determined to do what she wanted. She could try to explain her actions, but right now wasn’t the time. Grammy wasn’t in the mood to hear excuses or logic. Shay nodded and walked to the far end of the living room.
Colin Mackay.
Of all the ghost investigation teams out there how had Grammy found him? It’d been five, no six years since she’d last laid eyes on him. Had he sought her out? No, based on his surprise, he hadn’t planned it. He’d never been a good liar, hated it in fact, so she trusted her gut. If he thought she was behind this whole thing, she was pretty sure her reaction made it crystal clear that he was dead wrong.
They were all in the house now, completing the introductions: Don and Dave, blonds, one with a beard and one without, but clearly siblings. Then there was PJ—a silver-haired gent, and of course him.
Did he have to look so good? He’d cut his silky, shoulder-length brown hair, and his once smooth baby face now sported a day’s worth of stubble, but otherwise he looked the same. Her Colin. The man she had intended to wake up next to, to share her day with (the crappy and good moments), to laugh with over stupid, silly things, fight with, and love until her last moments on this earth.
Mentally she raised a glass of cheap champagne and toasted to the best laid plans of mice, men, and the stupidly-in-love.
“Welcome.” Her grandmother gestured for them to sit. “You’ve all met my granddaughter, Shay, at the door. She’ll be—”
“Staying,” Shay filled in. If she had thought for even a moment that she could leave, that idea had been squashed with Colin’s arrival.
Don, apparently the leader, nodded and turned his focus back to her grandmother. Before he did anything else, he outlined the team’s goals: to bring peace of mind to Mrs. O’Malley and to make sure she felt comfortable and safe in her home. Grammy got a good chuckle out of that and assured him she was as safe as a chicken in a house full of vegans.
“Good. I know you said during our initial call that you wanted to prove that you had a ghost living with you. We’ll do everything we can to help. We’ll come back and do multiple investigations, if necessary. But you have to understand we can’t force a spirit to interact with us. We also won’t fake evidence, for any reason.”
“Not even for your fifteen minutes of fame?” Shay whispered the question, not thinking anyone would hear or answer.
“Not even then,” PJ replied. “I don’t want to be famous. We just want to help and to find answers.”
Her grandmother frowned at her. Dave raised his brow and looked at Colin, who shook his head, cheeks reddening. At least he wasn’t going to sit there in her grandmother’s house and deny the past.
“Shay, can you give me a tour of the house while the guys talk with your grandmother? This way I can see where to set up our equipment.” Colin stood and dared her with his eyes to deny his request.
Forgive. The word, barely a whisper, had her looking to the others to see if they’d noticed. Her gram’s frown deepened and she looked from Shay to Colin and back.
Great. Now Grammy not only hears spirits, but can also read minds, because that had to be my subconscious talking to me.
Shay swallowed and smiled. “Sure, let’s start upstairs.”
She waited to speak until the two of them were standing in the tiny bedroom at the far end of the house that had been her room for the past week. It was barely big enough to hold the dresser and twin bed and still allow for a person to get dressed without banging her knees on the bedposts. With Colin in the tight space, Shay felt trapped.
“What are you doing here?”
“Trying to help—”
“Help? You know how I feel about this stuff. You’re just encouraging her.”
“No—”
“And believe me, she is not paying your group one single penny for your so-called investigation.”
“We don’t”—
“Did you think I wouldn’t find—”
Her mind screeched to a blank halt as his lips came down on hers. He kissed her, long and hard until she was panting for air when he released her mouth.
“What? Wha…” She couldn’t even find the words. She was spitting mad and it took everything she had not to slap Colin. She couldn’t deny it was a nice kiss, okay, beyond nice. But. What. The. Heck.
“That always was the best way to get you to be quiet.”
“Do it again and you’re going to be singing soprano.” She dropped her gaze to get her point across.
Colin held up his hands in the form of a T and she stepped back, waiting.
“To answer your question, I’m here with the team at your grandmother’s request. We’re not trying to encourage her, but rather help. And before you ask, no, I didn’t connect the names. I just got the call from Don this afternoon with the bare basics.”
She dropped onto her bed.
“For the record, we never accept any form of payments from our clients.”
“Great. But why are you here? You don’t even believe in the paranormal.”
“Neither do you.” He sat next to her, the heat from his body scorching every inch of hers where they connected. “Maybe this is a good thing. I can’t remember how many times you worried about your grandma and her imaginary friend. Maybe my team can help put his spirit to rest, if he’s here, and she can finally let go of his memory.”
She hated to admit he was right. She had worried, still did, about her grandmother’s mental health and her inability to move on from her husband’s death. Shay could only hope someday to find a love like theirs. But this was Colin and she didn’t fully trust him.