could hear the ghost.
Okay, so he didn’t bring the Grey. It was already here. That was an even more unsettling thought. How long had the Callaways been sharing a house with a Grey?
“It’s nothing to worry about.” She touched his arm. “You’re not scared of ghosts, are you?”
“No.” Ghosts didn’t bother him at all; Greys, on the other hand… He smiled at her as if nothing were wrong. Maybe nothing was wrong. It had been here for years, maybe decades, without causing any problems. Maybe it liked the ambience, the space, and the solitude. Yeah, and maybe Shea was simply misunderstood.
“Good.” Then she stepped away and picked up the book, and went back to making the list.
He watched her for a moment then trailed his fingers over the desk. The older images disappeared beneath the new impression of them kissing. The heat hit him again and left him longing. He was too human to resist wanting to get to know her, and too fairy to resist the game of lust she offered.
Double damned as usual.
Chapter 6
Neither of them had mentioned the kiss, but Lydia could feel it simmering between them. An unresolved something that could be nothing and yet it had felt like everything. Now it was getting close to eleven and they both had work the next day, yet she wasn’t ready for him to leave. While they hadn’t talked about what had happened, they had talked about the house and the things in it. Caspian was more than happy to talk about everything except himself.
The one thing she wanted to talk about.
She couldn’t treat his time here as default dates. He was working. But he didn’t seem to mind her questions and she liked to watch him work, like the way he’d look at something with a slight frown before making notes. The way the light sometimes caught his features and for a moment he seemed sharper and more beautiful than possible, then he’d turn and look at her and she’d realize it had been a trick of the light, or her mind running away with the fantasy of doing more than kissing him.
However, at the back of her mind she couldn’t shake the sensation that he was hiding something, even if she didn’t know what it was. She kept brushing aside the feeling. Maybe the divorce had made him gun-shy. If she wanted him, she was going to have to make it clear.
He shut the laptop. “I’m going to have to call it a night.”
She nodded. “Are you sure you don’t mind coming over after work?”
“Not at all.” He gave her a rare smile. “You don’t mind me being here?”
Lydia shook her head. No, she couldn’t imagine any woman kicking him out. Yet one had cast him off. What was his flaw? Was he messy? Refused to do housework? Watched sports all weekend? Her gaze skimmed over his body—it had felt pretty good when she’d kissed him. Maybe he played golf all weekend. “More of the same tomorrow?”
“Afraid so, and the next day.”
“How will I survive?”
He touched her arm. “You will. You Callaways seem to be able to survive anything and come out better for it.”
She glanced at him. She’d meant it as a joke and he’d taken her seriously, and then complimented her family in the same breath. Gran would have worked out his secret over a few wines. It was a pity they had never met. Caspian was a boyfriend Gran would’ve approved of. Not that he was her boyfriend after one kiss.
These evenings were the closest she’d come to a date in a while and she was enjoying them. Which said more about her life than she liked.
They walked toward the front door in silence. The old house creaked and sighed around them. It had felt hollow after Gran’s death, but now it was starting to breathe again—much like her. Caspian was right. She would get on with living and be okay.
“Thank you.” She wanted to touch him again, to lean in and kiss him, but she held back.
“Just doing my job.” He looked at her with those eyes that saw everything, yet hid whatever he was thinking so well. She wished she could read him better.
“Yes. Um, okay. I’ll see you same time tomorrow?”
“That would be good.”
The front door was an arm’s reach away, yet neither of them moved. Her tongue darted over her lip, and his gaze lowered to her mouth. Her skin warmed as if she was burning from within. Then he brushed his lips over her cheek, his stubble grazing her skin. The scent of his skin and something else filled her lungs.
She turned her head, needing to taste his lips. His fingers brushed her neck, then threaded into her hair. Her eyes closed as she let herself sink into the kiss, her body easing closer to his, her hand sliding over his chest. She didn’t need to breathe. He took a step and she moved with him, her back hitting the wall as he deepened the kiss, his tongue dancing with hers. A moan lodged in her throat. She wanted more than a kiss. She trailed her fingers over his hip, then pulled him closer so she could feel him pressed hard against her.
He didn’t resist. He slowly moved his hips against hers and she wanted to start unbuttoning his shirt there in the hallway. She broke the kiss and took a shaky breath. His lips remained millimeters from hers. Again they were caught, unwilling to pull away and yet unable to go forward. She hadn’t planned for this. She wasn’t prepared—no matter what her body was screaming.
“It’s late.”
“I know.” He kissed her again, softly as though hinting at what could be.
“You shouldn’t be driving home this late.” Neither should she.
He drew back a fraction to look at her, and the heat in his gaze nearly burned away every rational thought. “What are you suggesting?”
What was she suggesting? That they use Callaway House the same way it had once been used? Why not? “Maybe you should think about staying here, so you aren’t driving tired.”
Yeah, not even she believed that.
He considered her for a moment and she resisted the urge to bite her lip and act like she was nervous, even though she was. It was too fast. She almost took back the offer, but then realized that just because he was sleeping here didn’t mean they had to sleep together. How else was he going to take the suggestion? This close he couldn’t exactly hide what his body was thinking.
Just when she thought it was going to be a no, he spoke. “That’s a generous offer.”
“Yes, well, there are plenty of bedrooms.”
Caspian nodded. She could almost hear the wheels of his mind spinning up possibilities, but his eyes were unreadable.
She started to backtrack, certain she’d blown it. But how many men would turn down an offer to stay and play at Callaway House? Once upon a time no one would’ve. Now? “If you’re not comfortable staying here, I totally under—”
He placed his lips against hers to silence her. She gasped and guessed that was a yes, he’d be staying the night. The kiss made her forget about all the reasons she shouldn’t and think about all the reasons she should.
As he drew in a breath she spoke. “So was that a good-bye or a yes?” She needed to know.
“Both, I think.” He pulled back a fraction. “If you’re sure, how about tomorrow night?”
She’d never been more sure in her life. “I’m sure.” She kissed him once more to be certain. Then smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“So am I,” he murmured near her ear before pulling away. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He opened the front door and the cool night air swept in between them. He glanced out at the night then back at her. The moonlight cutting across his face made him seem sharper and colder than he’d been a moment ago. Then it was gone as he walked down the stairs and away from Callaway House.
“Good night, Caspian,” she said even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. She wouldn’t be sleeping well
