Tombs Of Endearment by Casey Daniels

Author:Casey Daniels
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-02-11T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Over the next twenty-four hours, the chill in my lips spread through the rest of my body. It was uncomfortable to say the least. Especially when every time I shivered, I thought about kissing Damon.

Or maybe thinking about kissing Damon was what made me shiver in the first place.

Either way, the icy cold was a constant reminder that I was a dope. Thinking I could kiss a ghost and come away unharmed was bad enough. Recognizing that I was falling in love with that ghost…

I dashed the thought away and tried to look on the bright side. As so often happens in Cleveland in the fall, the temperature dipped considerably that night, so when I arrived at work the next day bundled in wool pants, a turtleneck, and a sweater, nobody questioned it.

I tucked my hands up into the sleeves of my sweater, but it was hard to type that way, and I had a monthly report to prepare on the tours I’d given. I was getting nowhere fast.

Which was pretty much the same place I was getting in my investigation.

Call it coincidence or karma or maybe it was just an accident. No sooner did the thought pop into my head than Damon showed up in the chair across from my desk.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Sure.” When I smiled, my mouth hurt. “The swelling’s down and my lips aren’t bleeding anymore.”

“But you’re freezing.”

“That’s the downside of the Gift.” I was too uncomfortable looking at Damon so soon after thinking about what he was doing to my self-composure (not to mention my common sense), so I typed a quick description of the tour I’d conducted for the fourth graders. Not to worry, I wouldn’t dream of causing Ella apoplexy, so I left out the part about how six of them refused to get off the bus because they didn’t want to step on dead people. I didn’t mention the kid who we thought was lost and was found wedged between two headstones he shouldn’t have been climbing on in the first place, either, or the four others who decided they were hot, took off their shoes, and went wading in the pond behind the chapel.

When I was done, I hit enter a couple of times, signaling that the paragraph—and with any luck, the conversation—was finished. “I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

“You’ll be warm by tomorrow.” Leave it to a poet to pick up on the subtle difference. Damon was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that was torn at the neck and had a picture of Lyndon Johnson on it. His hands flat against his thighs, he leaned forward. “What are we going to do, Pepper?”

Damon wasn’t talking about the investigation, but I did so not want to go where I knew he was headed. Acting dumb was better than taking the chance of being caught by the magic of his voice. Or the simmering sensuality that lit his dark eyes when he looked at me. That road led nowhere. Except to PopsicleLand.

And I was already cold enough.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.