I could, but not while she was watching.
As if in answer to the thought, maybe it was, Henry appeared. He held out his hand. “Come along, child.”
She went with him as if she knew him; she definitely trusted him. Her tiny, pale fingers tangled with his much larger ones. For an instant I mourned the thousand and one times I’d never been able to hold his hand like that, as well as the thousand and one times I never would. I’d never be able to hold my mother’s hand either. She no longer had one.
Together they walked through the eastern wall of my home. I remained where I was, enjoying the steady beat of Bobby’s heart beneath my ear. He ran his palm over my hair. My eyelids grew heavy, and I straightened.
“What’s wrong?” He tried to tug me back.
“I’m supposed to be soothing you.”
His head tilted. “Who said?”
I nearly blurted, Genevieve. I was more tired than I’d thought.
“You’re upset,” I began.
“I wasn’t crying.”
“Sure you were.”
In places no one could see, which was the very worst kind.
“Let’s go to bed,” he said.
He undressed me like an overtired toddler, and I did the same for him. We crawled beneath the covers, and I laid my head on his shoulder, pressing my hip, my leg, my foot against his.
“I don’t want you to go to work tomorrow.”
“I have to. It’s a small town. There aren’t very many subs.” And the ones there were didn’t sign on for a return engagement to my room. Freaky things happened in Miss Larsen’s kindergarten class all the time, but when there was a substitute, they happened worse. For some reason, Stafford took my absence as a personal affront.
“Everyone deserves a day off.”
“I just had two.” Though they hadn’t been very restful.
“Raye.”
I kissed him. It was the best way to stop an argument. With Bobby, sometimes it was the only way.
I worshipped his mouth—kissing, nipping, suckling, licking. I hadn’t made out like this in … ever. Because I’d never done so naked, in my own bed, with a man who knew what he was doing.
He took possession of the embrace, slowing me down, revving me up. By the time he touched my breasts, I was so aroused just by the play of our mouths, the brush of his toe along my instep, the tickle of the hair on his legs against mine, I cried out and arched into his hand. One tweak of my nipple between his thumb and forefinger and I came, gasping.
He slid into me while I shuddered. His mouth played over my eyelids, my cheeks as he thrust—over and over—deeper, harder, and somehow my orgasm continued, or perhaps the first just ran into the second. Who knew? Who cared?
I opened my eyes as his breath caught, our gazes met, and he shuddered too. Eventually he lowered his forehead to mine.
“I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.”
“That’s right.” He rolled to the side, stared at the ceiling. “Because I’m not going to let you out of my sight.”
*
“Are you a grown-up?” Genevieve asked.
She and Henry stood outside Raye’s apartment. Sunday night in New Bergin and they were the only souls on the street.
“I’m a ghost,” Henry said. He wasn’t sure if that made him a grown-up or not.
The child studied him, lower lip caught between her tiny, slightly crooked teeth. “I don’t think he meant you.”
“Who?”
“Stafford.”
That beastly ghost child who had been tormenting his daughter for years. Henry had tried to get rid of the fiend, but Stafford wasn’t a fool. He knew if he told Henry why he was still here, Henry would make certain he soon wasn’t. The child had avoided him of late, and Henry had been too overburdened with the Venatores Mali to notice. Or perhaps he’d just been so glad not to see the imp he hadn’t wanted to.
“What did he say?” Henry asked. If the urchin had upset her he would— “He told me something that no grown-up is supposed to know.” She worried her teeth harder. If she’d had blood, she might have bloodied them. “But I think someone should.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “It’s bad.”
Henry sighed. When wasn’t it?
*
Morning came and with it the usual rush, made even more so because I wasn’t used to sharing my space. Everywhere I turned, there Bobby was. At the sink, in the shower, on my way to the coffeepot. But we managed.
Bobby insisted on driving me to school rather than walking, which helped me to be more on time than when I had to wait for— “Jenn!” I shouted as we rolled down Main Street.
“Where?” He glanced around, frowning when he saw no sign of her.
“I’m sure she’s still putting on her ankle breakers or searching for her most expensive, inappropriately tight shirt.”
His frown deepened. “She works at an elementary school.”