Eric mumbled something completely incoherent.

“What did you say?” Belle asked.

Eric seemed to find his feet very interesting. “I’m saying something keeps patting my butt, too. It’s weird. And sometimes I think I hear a voice saying I’m a good one. I don’t know what that means.”

Belle’s eyes lit up and she raced across the room to pick up her grandmother’s journal. “That’s what my grandma used to say about the men she liked.” She flipped through the pages. “Look here. She says her friend, Harrison, was a good one. One of the good ones. My grandma is here.”

“And she wants to pat their butts?” he asked incredulously. “Belle, really?” Maybe he should call in a shrink.

“I know it sounds crazy, but there is something happening in this house and I’m going to figure it out. I need a computer.” She looked up at Tate. “Would you help me do a little research?”

The faintest hint of a smile lit his lips, the first bit of happiness he’d seen out of Tate for days. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

They walked out, hand in hand. Belle might have scared the shit out of him, but at least she and Tate seemed to have put aside their problems. That alone might make the whole near heart attack worthwhile. Although if she got truly close to Tate and Eric again, where would that leave him?

“You okay?” Eric asked.

“I’m fine. I’m a little worried about her. I think the pressure must be getting to her. It’s the only way to explain this sudden belief in ghosts.”

Eric’s brows rose. “I don’t think it’s sudden. Have you ever seen all the shows she tapes? Mostly it’s shows where people buy houses and then like wreck them and shit, but she also likes shows where people hunt for ghosts. But that’s not what I’m talking about. What are you doing, man?”

“I’m trying to figure out how to help Belle.” What was Eric’s problem?

“Belle’s fine. You’re the one with the problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that Belle’s surrender is inevitable. She won’t hold out on us forever.”

He hadn’t really thought about it. The truth was he’d been happy the last couple of days. Well, he’d been happy at night when they took her and he could be close to her. There had been a deep sense of loss every time the sex ended and he left her bedroom, but he couldn’t do much about that. Sleeping next to her seemed even more intimate than fucking her, so staying the night cuddled up beside her would be implying a promise he couldn’t make.

And now he realized just how little time he had left with her…maybe with all of them. “Do you think her belief that the house is haunted will send her back to Chicago with us?”

If she came back, Kellan had no doubt she would move right into Eric and Tate’s house. What would he do then? Show up for sex? He couldn’t see that working for long. And the night she finally shut the door in his face would fucking hurt.

“Hell, no. I don’t think anything will induce Belle to leave this house. I’ve been thinking… Next week, I’ll be applying for my license to practice law in Louisiana. I’ll take the state bar exam as soon as possible.”

Kellan felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. “Are you serious? What about Tate? Have you told him?”

“No. I just decided today.”

“Tate won’t leave Chicago,” Kell pointed out.

“He fears change and always has. Do you know the anxiety he went through when I bought a different brand of toilet paper? But there’s only one thing he fears more and that’s losing Belle. She’s going to soften and let us into her lives. Once she does, he’s going to give in. It’s inevitable. She’s the one. At least, she’s the one for us.”

“Oh my god,” Belle stuck her head back through the door looking more animated than she had in days. There was an excited light to her eyes. “I saw a shadow person tonight. Tate just found all this information. It’s so cool. Apparently when really bad things happen in a space, sometimes energy lingers and forms this creepy paranormal entity that appears as a black mass. It can sometimes feed off of negative energy in the house or the bad moods of people in it. Isn’t that amazing? I also ordered a ghost hunting kit off the Internet. It gets here tomorrow. In the meantime, I have a dictation tape recorder. I’m going to see if I can capture some EVPs.”

“What?” Kell wondered if she’d suddenly decided to speak a foreign language.

“Electronic voice phenomenon. Even if the human ear can’t detect them, recorders have been capturing compelling sounds and voices for decades.” Tate poked his head in, looking just as excited as Belle.

“Ghost voices?”

“Yeah.” Belle nodded. “It would explain so much around here. I mean, when Gates first brought up the idea that the house might be haunted, I didn’t want to believe it, but…it really makes sense.”

Eric laughed indulgently. “Then I guess we’re going into the ghost hunting business, baby.”

She bit her bottom lip, looking almost apologetic. “Is it wrong that I’m a little excited?”

Eric shrugged. “I’m getting used to having my ass patted.” His face went blank. “Yeah, there it went again.”

“I think that particular ghost is harmless, babe. Come on. You have to see what we found out.” She gave them a brilliant smile and ran back toward the living room.

No doubt about it. She was the one. He just wasn’t good enough for her.

When should he pack up and leave? Tonight? Tomorrow? Maybe she’d grant him one last night.

Eric put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go and try to figure this out. Ghost or no ghost, I think an actual person left the message on Belle’s bedroom wall right after we arrived. I would feel better if we found out who wants her gone from here. Maybe we should research the house and see if we can find out if any of our suspects have hidden attachments to the place.”

“Eric, there’s an app!” Belle yelled.

Kell stared, astounded. Eric’s smile could only be described as joyful. “Man, ghost or not, I’m just happy to see her smile.”

He walked away, joining Tate and Belle.

For a deathly quiet moment, Kellan stared at the place where his friends and his love had been before they’d left him behind.

His time was running out.

His neck jerked again, this time stronger than the last. It felt like someone had just roughly smacked him upside the head. “Goddamn it.”

He really needed to get that looked at.


* * * *


Tate stretched as he closed the laptop and glanced at the clock. It was after two in the morning, but he’d found an enormous amount of information on the house he now lived in—and possibly shared with a bunch of creepy shit and one slightly sexually forward ghost grandma. Was he really thinking about ghosts? And was he really thinking about bringing some psychic in to do a house cleansing? All the sites he’d read had suggested he should, though some of the same sites also told him what to do in case of a Bigfoot attack.

Where was he going to find the psychic equivalent of a Swiffer?

“Hey, why don’t you come to bed?” Belle stood in the doorway. She and Eric and Kellan had gone upstairs an hour before, but he’d stayed behind, his brain running too fast to sleep.

She looked gorgeous standing there with her hair mussed and a sleepy expression on her face. Clearly, she’d been tossed a time or two, and his dick got hard, despite his weariness. It was never tired around Belle.

“I’ll be up in a minute. I just want to make some notes for when I head over to the city records building tomorrow.” He’d discovered some very interesting facts about the house, including several rumors that the girls who committed suicide had actually been killed by their father. The incident had happened back in the fifties, before Belle’s grandmother had bought the place. In fact, after the father of the dead young women had passed on himself, two other people had bought the house. Both had sold it again within a year. Belle’s grandmother had paid far below market value for the house. That explained how she’d managed to afford it. But Tate felt sure he was missing more, something that explained who wanted Belle gone from here now. He needed to delve into city records to see if he could find any clues.

He also needed a little space. He’d gotten close to her again tonight and not in a physical way. Over the last several days, he’d managed to put distance between them. She wanted him in bed. He wanted her, too. He could handle that. He could fuck her every night and do his job in the morning, putting her out of his head until it was time to fuck her again.

When she was safe, he would walk away and sink himself into building the firm. He would keep all of his relationships purely physical. Eric could date, and if the lady felt adventurous, Tate could join them for sex. At least that had been the plan he’d been brewing for days. Hearing her scream tonight, holding her and researching crazy shit with her—yeah, that had screwed with his perfectly good strategy.

She moved in behind him, cupping his shoulders in her gentle hands. “I’m having a hard time sleeping without you. I’ve gotten used to having someone on both sides of me.”

“Well, maybe you can get a body pillow.” He hated the fact that he sounded like a sulking kid, but he hurt inside in a way he hadn’t for a very long time. Maybe when she saw how childish he could be she would kick him to the curb and put him out of his misery. Staying here with her was like living in purgatory.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, laying a kiss on his cheek. “A body pillow wouldn’t be as warm as you. Nor would it be as sweet or funny or perfect. Come upstairs with me. I hate the thought of you down here alone.”