Ghosts of the Falls by Sarah Gilman

Author:Sarah Gilman [Gilman, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: entangled publishing, Sarah Gilman, short story, romance, ghosts, Genre Romance, ever after, romance series, Maine, exorcism, exorcist, happily ever after, Paranormal
ISBN: 9781622662463
Google: SXM0AQAAQBAJ
Goodreads: 18632165
Publisher: Entangled: Ever After
Published: 2012-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

“This is a very bad idea,” Jade muttered, meeting her own stare in the mirror. The knots in her stomach fluttered in anticipation. “Damn it.”

She took her usual braid down and brushed her hair until it fell in waves to her elbows. A job in the woods had not merited packing sexy clothes, so she selected a clean pair of jeans and a silken blouse—business clothes. The spicy scent of cooking drifted in through the open window from the grill behind the cabin.

“Jade?” Dutch called from the porch.

She checked the mirror one last time and hurried to the door. Dutch waited there, dressed in a dark green button-down shirt that brought out his eyes.

“Evening.” He reached for her hand and kissed her fingers. “You look lovely tonight.”

The contact stirred her internal butterflies into a flying frenzy. “Thanks.”

“I hope you like fish.”

She inhaled. “Whatever that scent is, I like it.”

He squeezed her hand and led her around to the back of the cabin, a private yard surrounded by thick bushes. A small fire burned in a stone pit and a white cloth covered a picnic table. Two plates offered roasted fish, wilted greens, and fresh bread.

He pulled a bottle of wine from an ice bucket. “I caught the trout myself and picked the herbs in the woods. The rest I got from the market across the street. Sorry about the plastic dishes. It’s all they had.”

“Not at all.” She joined him at the table. “This looks wonderful.”

“I’m glad.” He poured the wine.

She touched a cluster of wildflowers set in a plastic cup in the middle of the table.

He cleared his throat. “At the risk of sounding corny, the flowers you left by my stone meant a lot to me. No one has ever done that before. Thank you.”

A comfortable silence fell. Jade slowly ate the delicious food and cleaned the plate. As they finished the bottle of wine, they chatted about little things: The fish recipe that had been a favorite in the logging camps where Dutch had worked. How Jade had initially picked up the viola as a child just to annoy her brothers but had come to love it more than any other hobby.

The bottle dried up and she brought her the instrument outside.

“Any requests?” She stood in front of the fire.

He sat on the ground, dark-blue twilight framing him, and rested an arm on a bent knee. “Your favorite piece.”

She lifted the viola to her shoulder and began the slow, uplifting solo that had attracted her to the instrument when she’d been little. Her mother had played the song on an antique record player. Playing with her eyes closed to not get distracted by Dutch’s unwavering gaze, she gave herself over to the music. The piece took five minutes to complete, and as she prolonged the last note, his warm fingers touched her cheek.

She opened her eyes. Dutch pressed his lips to her shoulder, her neck, her jaw line, and paused, his mouth a hair’s breadth from hers.

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