“Alyssa,” Nick greets, seemingly unsurprised to find me a limp noodle in his grasp.
I’m a grown woman, not some lovesick teenager. I’m more than capable of not being awkward. I’m here for a very important reason and I need to concentrate on that.
“Embarrassing myself in front of you is becoming a habit,” I say, allowing him to help me to standing. “I can assure you I’m not typically this much of a klutz.”
He chuckles. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”
I run my hands down my black joggers partially to smooth out the material, but mostly to wipe the perspiration from my palms.
“Well, whoever you’re talking to seems to have thrown me right under the bus.”
He laughs and I follow suit, finally relaxing.
“Were you heading somewhere?”
“No. I saw you on the camera,” he explains, pointing toward the device I hadn’t noticed.
Wonderful. How much of my stalling did he see?
“Alyssa, look at me,” he commands. “No need to be embarrassed. I swung the door open on you.”
He might have the reasoning behind my current unease incorrect, but the fact he can read me so well has anxiety rearing its ugly head, considering I’m here to semi-dupe him into helping me send a ghost on to the afterlife.
I take a deep breath, fold my hands together, and squeeze, hoping to produce a modicum of bravery. He steps back, giving me space that I desperately need.
It doesn’t help, as my eyes make another perusal of the man, jean-clad and barefoot. My inspection stops on his gray T-shirt pulled taut across his muscular chest.
I clear my throat, hoping to whatever god is looking down on me that he didn’t notice my blatant staring at his pecs.
“Wanna come in?”
When my chin lifts, I don’t find any indication he’s onto my prowling eyes.
I offer a tight-lipped smile, nodding briskly. “Thank you.”
As I make my way past him, the pleasant aroma of pine and leather washes over me. Tingles spread across the back of my neck, and I lift my arm to rub at the spot. I wouldn’t have thought leather to be an appealing scent, but dear god, is it ever.
My word.Focus, Alyssa.
I work to bring myself back to center, concentrating on the task at hand. Swinging around, I nearly bump into Nick, adding one more check mark to my list of blunders.
“I’m sorry. I—”
His hands lift to stop my apology. “It’s all good.” He continues walking toward the back of his house, and I follow on his heels. “Can I get you something to drink?” he calls over his shoulder.
“No, thank you. I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
“Not like I have anything going on.” He smiles and now it’s his dimples stealing the show.
How have I not noticed how handsome he is before now?
“Please, have a seat,” he suggests, motioning toward a chair at his dining room table.
The place is as orderly as I remember from the dreaded night that Billy poofed into my life. It almost rivals mine for tidiness, which Garrett would say is a miracle. I’m one step short of OCD. At least, I was.
Knowing a bit about his fiancée and when she passed, I decide she couldn’t have had a hand in his decor. He moved here after her death. It has a feminine touch, which produces an excess of questions. The place isn’t at all what I would expect for a bachelor.
“My sister,” he says, and I scrunch my nose in confusion. “Yousaid it isn’t what you expected.” He motions around the room. “Jackie, my sister, decorated the place.”
