Page 46

He turned the chair without thinking, pulling her onto his lap. Plates rattled on the table behind her as she sank against him, arms curling around his neck. For a few long, suspended seconds, the world narrowed to the sound of her breath and the heat of her mouth.

Every cell in his body urged him to sweep her up in his arms and take her to her bed.

When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, both of them breathing hard.

“I think last night scared the hell out of both of us,” he said. “And I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

For a moment, neither moved. The air between them was thick. Then Amy nodded slowly and reluctantly, then slipped off his lap.

He caught her hand before she stepped away and squeezed once, gently grounding.

“Anyway, I need to get to work,” he said as he rose to his feet. He made his voice lighter than he felt. “My boss is a real stickler for being on time.”

Amy smiled faintly, rubbing her fingers where his had been. “Must be a nightmare working for her.”

“You have no idea.” He reached for his jacket hanging near the door.

As he shrugged it on, she hesitated by the counter. The morning light was soft on her face. She seemed to be searching for words that didn’t sound entirely foolish. He knew because he was doing the same.

“Sully?”

He paused with one hand still in his sleeve. “Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Why don’t you believe in ghosts?”

The question hung between them, heavier than either would have expected.

Sully’s gaze drifted toward the window, to the gray glimmer of the sea beyond the trees. For a long moment, he didn’t answer.

“I used to,” he said finally. “When I was a kid.”

Amy leaned against the counter, arms folded loosely. “What changed?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “My best friend—Eli—died of cancer when we were ten. He was braver than I’ll ever be. A couple of nights before he passed, I was having a tough time of it.” He stopped and swallowed the lump in his throat, as rusty old emotions crept to his surface. Feelings he hadn’t felt in years. “He said he’d send me a message from the other side—something clear. So I’d know he was still around, so that I’d know dying wasn’t the end of our friendship, that there was still… something.”

Amy’s expression softened; the air between them quieted.

“I waited,” Sully said. He cleared his throat. “For weeks. Months, really. With every little sound in the house, I’d listen for him. For anything.” He shook his head with a faint, wry smile. “But nothing ever came.”

“So you stopped believing.”

He nodded once. “Yeah. Eli would have kept his end of the deal. I figured—once you’re gone, you’re gone. There’s nothing magical about that.”

Amy studied him a moment longer. “That’s… sad.”

“Maybe.” He met her eyes. “Or maybe it’s just how it is, and hoping any other way is just… I don’t know. Naïve.”

For a while, neither of them spoke. The kitchen was filled with the scent of cooling coffee and distant sea air.

Finally, Sully turned to leave. He gave her a small nod, stepping out onto the porch. The door clicked shut behind him.

Sully walked across the lawn toward the carriage barn, the morning wind sharp on his face. He could still feel the ghost of Amy’s touch on his shoulders, the taste of her kiss.

A distraction he didn’t need.