His brow furrowed in curiosity, and she saw something there that had her opening her mouth and letting her dumb little dreams come pouring out. “I always walk home from Courtney’s this way. I like to look at that house.”
He peered over her shoulder, down that tunnel of trees that seemed to lead to another dimension. As if you could step right into another time. “You call that a house?”
A shock of nervous laughter ripped from her. “I was just thinkin’ the same thing.” She turned a little, wonder gliding into her tone. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. A little scary. My cousin Joseph said it’s haunted.” She thought it was laughter that glided across his face when he said the last, trying to get a rise out of her.
She slowly turned to look at it. “I think that’s what I like most about it. It’s like it just got left out here. Forgotten. I can only imagine the stories those walls could tell.”
He moved to stand at her side. “No one lives there?”
“No one has been there for a long time, though there was a family who used to come and stay for a bit in the summers. Guess they still own it, but the mother passed, so they haven’t been around in a long time. Heard a rumor they’re gettin’ behind on the taxes.”
They stood there in the silence. The boy standing at her side as if he might appreciate the beauty as much as she did. Faith was sure she’d never been so uncomfortably comfortable.
Maybe too comfortable because she was suddenly murmuring, “One day, I’m gonna own this house. Fix it up. Make it something spectacular. A hotel. A bed and breakfast, maybe. I don’t know.”
He looked over at her. The threat of a tease wound up at one side of his mouth, twisting up her heart at the same time. “Why would you want to go and ruin the mystery by fixing it up and chasing away all the ghosts?”
She felt the smile slide to her lips. “Oh, I’ll let them stay.”
He laughed a low sound. It was quiet, but somehow, it still managed to shake the ground. “Of course, you will.”
Then he reached out and snatched her hand.
Fire flashed up her arm, this time so intense she couldn’t help but gasp out a shocked sound at the feel of it, his hand so big and warm where it was wrapped around hers.
“Come on, let’s see if we can see any of those ghosts.”
He started hauling her down the narrow drive, the trees hugging them from both sides, branches rustling and waving in the hot, summer wind.
Alive.
A low whistle coming from their leaves.
“Jace, what are you doin’?”
“Chasing ghosts.”
“That’s a bad idea. We aren’t supposed to go up there.”
He looked at her from over his shoulder, his face so gorgeous, eyes so bright. “What, are you scared?”
Terrified.
“No.”
“Then hurry up.”
“I’m wearing sandals.”
She shrieked when he suddenly spun around and hoisted her up and tossed her onto his back.
Her legs wrapped around his waist as if she’d done it a million times before, and her arms held fast to his neck.
His hands clasped around the outsides of her thighs.
Oh goodness.
Her stomach twisted and pitched, and she bounced all over as he raced up the deserted driveway.
“Jace.”
“Don’t you trust me?”
No. Not at all.
He ducked down a fraction, laughing as he ran, something carefree winding with the whispers uttered from the trees.
Faith held on for dear life, sure she was in some sort of mortal danger, because this boy was the only thing she could breathe.
Her nose to the flesh of his neck, his deeply tanned skin a kiss of summer.
She didn’t want to let go when they got to the base of the magnificent wraparound porch that was held up by massive pillars, but finally, she slipped down his back and onto her feet.
“Whoa,” he said, awe striking him the same way as it did her.
“Told you.”
He stretched out his hand, taking hers again, his movements slowing as he carefully led them up the whitewashed steps that moaned from disuse.
Silently, she followed him to the window that sat off to the side of the door, and they both pressed their faces to the glass, their hands cupped around their eyes so they could peer inside.
It was like looking into the set of a movie. Antique furniture and ornate rugs and a staircase that may as well have been taken right out of Gone with the Wind.
Not that it was her favorite book and movie, or anything.
“Must be nice,” Jace suddenly whispered, an edge of that hostility winding back into his tone as he peeled himself away from the window.
Faith did the same, squinting as she peered at him through the rays of sun that slanted onto the porch, fingers of light that rustled through his tawny hair. “What must be nice?”
“Come on, Faith, look at all that stuff. And someone just left it. Like they have too much to even give a shit that they left all of this here. Hardly seems fair, does it?”
She blinked at him, unable to keep up with his moods. They seemed to shift as quickly as the swing of the pendulum on the massive grandfather clock that rested against the far wall inside.
Her voice was soft but strained with emphasis. “I don’t know anything about these people, Jace. I don’t know how hard they work or what they were given or what their situations are. Just like I don’t know all that much about your situation, but I’m not gonna make assumptions based on that, either.”
He laughed.
A biting sound that pinched her skin.
“Oh, give it a rest, Faith. You know all you need to know about me.”
He stepped back, the planks groaning beneath him, his arms stretched out to the sides as if he were daring her to look inside him.
He was wearing a black-collared shirt, the same kind every employee at the grocery store had to wear.
But his black pants?
She could see where they’d been patched and mended and were a smidge too short for his long legs, and the soles of his black shoes were peeling up at the toes.
His clothes were a bit tattered.
His hair a bit too long.
But none of those things were what she saw.
The only thing she could recognize was a face that was far too striking.
“The only thing I know is I can’t stop looking at you. Can’t stop thinking about you.” Her words scraped from her throat like a confession.
Instantly, she wished she could take them back because they exposed her in a way that she wished they wouldn’t.
Because his expression almost looked disgusted . . . almost horrified by what she had said.
Her gaze fell away, to the ground at the base of the steps. “God, I’m stupid.”
Her knees wobbled when his fingers were suddenly on her chin, urging her to look back his way. Those copper eyes searched hers, squinting as they hunted her face, looking for a secret she didn’t know she possessed.
Her mouth went dry, and her heart hammered in the space between them.
So hard.
So fast.
She could hardly breathe.
“Stupid? What you are is innocent and sweet. So pretty that I can’t even think straight. You are beauty looking back at me.”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as a swarm of butterflies breached her stomach and flitted through her entire body. Tickling beneath the surface of her skin.
His face pinched. “You’re a good girl, Faith. I can tell.”
Embarrassment had her teeth clamping down painfully on her bottom lip. What he meant was her inexperience was showing, seeping through her flesh the same way those butterflies that were climbing right through did.
She really was stupid.
“Don’t do that,” he softly chided. His thumb moved to her lip that was tucked between her teeth, setting it free.
The skin tingled from his touch.
“Do what?” she whispered, her eyes wide and unsure.
“Make me want to kiss you.”
Faith moaned.
Just from him saying it.
From the feeling that gripped her everywhere, something heavy at her heart and throbbing at her center.
“Fuck,” he said, inhaling sharply, as if he’d felt it.