Ghostly Love: A Sweet Contemporary Fantasy Romance Novella (The Goode Witch Matchmaker Book 2) by Cate Lawley

Author:Cate Lawley [Lawley, Cate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-04-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

Brad had asked Walter to spread the documents Hillary had left on the kitchen table so that he could read them all. While Hillary had taken the longest bath ever—was that a girl thing?—he’d reviewed all of the information Hillary had found while he’d been recharging.

When she finally walked in, her dark hair damply curling around her face, he’d finished reading most of the documents. Yearbook picture confirmation or not, he was certain he was Stephen Bradley Sherwood. Once he’d read the article that mentioned his mother, there had been no doubt in his mind. None.

He sat up from the slouched position he’d assumed in the corner of the kitchen and asked, “Good bath?”

Hillary jumped. “Gah! That’s creepy. You make no noise—seriously none.”

“Sorry. It’s part of the package. Walter and I hypothesized that not much substance means not much noise.” Brad shrugged. “Speaking is another question entirely.”

“I’m going with magic.” Hillary frowned and walked further into the room. “Are you okay? You look…” She screwed her lips up. “You look weird.”

“She says to a ghostly figure lurking in the corner.”

Arms crossed, she said, “You know what I mean. What gives?”

“I read the article about me—Sherwood—going missing and the police calling off the search.”

Hillary’s arms fell back to her sides, and she sat down. She looked worried. “Do you think there’s any possibility that you tried…”

She gave him a nudge-nudge, wink-wink type of look. It took him a few seconds to realize what she was talking about. A sharp bark of laughter slipped out. “No. No way. I did not try to kill myself. Uh-uh.”

Her eyebrows drew close together. She was adorable, like some guy’s cute kid sister. Some guy he didn’t know. Some guy who wouldn’t mind if he grabbed a hold of her—he cleared his throat. “Ah, the article mentioned my mom.”

Her face cleared. Became completely blank, in fact. “Yes.” Speaking carefully, as if considering every word, she said, “I looked for her. What I found isn’t here,” she waved a hand at the table of materials. “But I did look, and I found your mom.”

He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “And?”

“And she moved away. Not long after your funeral. I don’t think she ever believed you…ah—”

“Killed myself. You can say it. We both know I didn’t actually do it, so it’s not a problem for me to talk about it.” Brad was 99.9 percent sure he hadn’t even tried—but without his memory, he had only his gut to rely upon. It seemed so completely wrong, and when he’d run into facts from his previous life, they’d clicked on some intrinsic level. And there was no funky chill of confirmation on hearing the word suicide.

“Okay. So, I’m sure she didn’t believe you killed yourself. There’s a website.” Hillary’s blank façade slipped, and she winced. “A conspiracy theorist website.”

Brad blew out a breath and then pushed himself away from the table. His mom had lost it. At least in regards to his disappearance. There was no other explanation for Hillary’s hesitance.

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