His gaze slid to hers. “I’ve seen shadows. Movement out of the corner of my eyes when no one else is in the room or hallways.”
She leaned toward him, placing a hand on the bed next to his thigh. He inhaled deeply, catching the scent of . . . coconut. “So, you think your house is haunted? Then why the attitude when I first asked you?”
He looked at her mouth again and had to spread his thighs. “Because I’m a dickhead?”
A tiny grin appeared. “Sounds about right.”
“I can only believe what I’ve seen and what I’ve experienced,” he said.
“But if you’ve seen things and heard stuff at your house, how can you be so dismissive of ghost hunters and other people’s experiences?”
“Because like I said, I think most of them are scammers or delusional.”
The grin faded. “Do you think that about me?”
He didn’t know what he thought about her. “I think you believe in what you’re doing.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Nice choice of words.”
He lifted a shoulder.
“I don’t get it,” she said after a moment. “You’ve experienced supernatural activity and yet universally doubt anyone else’s claims? I don’t get that.”
Dev leaned back, resting on his arm as he angled his body toward hers. “I saw something just this week.” He felt one side of his lips curl. “A black shadow at the other end of the mudroom. I thought of you when I saw it.”
“I’m sure that filled you with happy thoughts.”
“I wouldn’t exactly say happy,” he murmured, shifting his gaze to the mirror. “Have you ever seen anything, with your own eyes?”
“Yes,” she said quickly. “I’ve seen ghosts and I’ve heard them.”
For some reason he thought about that Saturday afternoon when he was a kid, the last time his mother’s friend brought Pearl to the house. “So, you believe in life after death?”
Rosie dipped her chin and several curls fell over her shoulders, brushing the tops of her breasts. “There is something after death. If there wasn’t, there wouldn’t be spirits. And if there wasn’t, then what would be the point of all of this? All the joy and sadness, all the failures and successes? We go through all this life and then for us to just die and that be it? I don’t want to believe that.” There was a pause where she pressed her plump lips together. “I can’t.”
Dev felt his chest tighten as she lifted her gaze to his. Just like before, words formed on the tip of his tongue. Words he’d never spoke out loud to another human being.
Maybe it was because she was a stranger to him but at the same time she wasn’t. Maybe it was because she knew so little about him and he knew so very little about her. And maybe it was because she wasn’t impressed by him. She wasn’t enthralled or wasn’t trying to entice him. He knew there was a good chance that she could be working with Ross, but what he did know for sure was that she was not remotely afraid of him.
So maybe he knew why he said what came out of his mouth next. “I died once.”
“What?” She reached up, her fingers going to the thin cord securing the mask in place.
“Don’t.” He caught her wrist. “It’s . . . easier this way.”
She stared at him and then her gaze dropped to where he brought her hand to the bed. A long moment passed. “You died?”
“I probably should’ve elaborated.” A wry grin tugged at his mouth. “When I was young—a young boy, actually—I was . . . I was injured quite gravely. I died, but I was revived.”
“Oh my God.” Her body rocked forward as she placed both hands on the bed by his thigh. “I’ve never experienced anything like that. I mean, I’ve spoken to people who have, but . . . What happened to you?”
His brothers hadn’t been born yet and they didn’t even know about this. The only people alive besides him who knew what happened that night after he found Pearl’s mother in the room with his father were Besson and his wife, Livie, and it was going to stay that way. “I was a kid, messing around. Got myself hurt.”
She stared at him for a moment as she reached up with her free hand, fiddling with the chain around her neck. “Do you remember what happened when you . . . ?”
“Died?” Dev’s fingers seemed to move on their own accord, finding their way under the sleeve of her dress. “It was many years ago and some of the memories have lost their clarity, but I remember bits and pieces. As cliché as it sounds, there was a white light. No tunnel. But there was a bright light. It was all I could see and . . .”
Her fingers stilled around the necklace. “And what?”
Part of him still couldn’t believe he was saying any of this and he couldn’t even blame the bourbon. “I heard my grandmother’s voice.”
Even with the mask still in place, he could see her face soften as he dragged his finger along the inside of her wrist. “That had to be very special, wasn’t it? I mean, I’m sure as a young boy you were scared and confused, but to hear a loved one who’s passed? That . . .” She drew in a heavy breath and when she spoke, there was a wistfulness to her tone. “That had to be amazing.”
Suddenly, there was something he wanted to know—no, needed to know. “How did your husband die?”
Rosie pulled and he let go. She straightened as she dropped her hands into her lap. “We don’t know each other like that for that kind of conversation.”
“I just told you that I died and heard my grandmother’s voice. How much more do we need to know each other before you tell me that?”
She was quiet and then she laughed. “That’s a good point and I hate even admitting that to you.”
“I always make good points.”
Rosie wrinkled her nose. “That’s yet to be seen.” She stared down at her fingers and then looked up and over at him. “I have . . .” She bit down on her lip and looked away.
“What?”
She shook out her shoulders. “I have a favor to ask. You’re probably going to say no, but you just told me that your house is haunted and—”
“You’re not investigating my house,” he replied dryly. “And you haven’t answered my question.”
“I’m not asking to investigate your house. Not really.” She narrowed her eyes. “Your brother is renovating a house over in the Garden District. I want to get into that house, along with my team.”
Devlin tilted his head back. “To do what?”
“We have a client who lives next door and has been experiencing a pretty dramatic haunting. We think it’s stemming from the house Lucian is having renovated,” she explained. “Can you talk to Lucian and get him to let us check out his house?”
“Let me get this straight. You want my brother to let you into his home to see if it’s haunted?”
She nodded.
Dev honest to God had no idea how to respond to that, but then he watched her suck her bottom lip between her teeth. As shitty as it was, he realized he had bargaining power, and there was something he wanted. Lots of things he wanted, actually.
“I’ll get you into the house.”
“What?” Surprise pitched her tone. “You’re for real?”
A half grin tugged at his lips. “On one condition.”
“What condition?”
He sat up and leaned in close enough that he heard her inhale. The scent of coconuts teased him again. “It’s a pretty big condition.”
“Okay? What is it?”
What he was about to say was not planned. It was not calculated in the ways he wanted it to be and how he was accustomed to. His condition was . . . simply something he desired.
“Kiss me,” he said, voice low. “That’s my condition. Kiss me.”
Chapter 14
Rosie was almost positive she hadn’t heard him correctly. “I’m going to need you to say that again.”
Those thick lashes lowered. “The condition is a kiss.”
Okay.