A Date with the Other Side (Cuttersville #1)(32)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Shelby laughed. “It’s not worth losing sleep over. No one knows who he is, but a young man with blond hair and an early twentieth-century suit has been seen in the parlor and the dining room. He’s usually just standing there and he’s smiling. Sometimes he winks or waves or laughs before shimmering out of sight. They say he looks real enough to touch.”

“Maybe he is. Maybe some enterprising local guy is dressing up to freak people out.”

Now he was reaching. “That’s totally irrational.” She finished lacing her shoes and stood up.

“No more irrational than seeing ghosts.”

Shelby started down the road past him. “Maybe. So are you sure you don’t have a female friend with blond hair, long legs, and designer clothes?” That woman on Main Street had been bugging her, especially since Gran had confessed she’d rented the Gray House on Bell Street to her for two months, and that she was in fact from Chicago. She’d also never hesitated to pay Gran four thousand dollars rent up front, which Gran had been pleased over and Shelby had been appalled by.

Her grandmother was raising her rents left and right to unsuspecting newcomers and not feeling the slightest ounce of remorse for doing so. Gran had actually sported an ear-to-ear grin when she’d told Shelby the news.

“I probably know a lot of women like that, but I don’t have a specific female friend that meets that description. Why?”

Boston was keeping a fast pace and Shelby felt a little winded already. “No reason.”

He shot her a suspicious look but let it drop. “So, does the town advertise your tour and its Most Haunted status? Cuttersville could cultivate a whole bed-and-breakfast clientele interested in the paranormal.”

“You know, I don’t really think so. I mean, it’s kind of just word of mouth.”

“Does the town have a web site? They could promote there, and maybe have a town Halloween party every year. Register the various sites on your tour and document all the alleged sightings to distribute and generate interest. People would enjoy popping down here for a weekend.”

Shelby crunched gravel beneath her feet and thought over the whole idea of taking her tour and Cuttersville to the next level. Her first reaction was no way, she did not want a bunch of ghost-seeking strangers invading her quiet town. But then she thought about the locally owned restaurants, gas stations, drugstore, and candy shop. As well as the half-dozen or so folks who had big old Victorian houses that would serve well as B and Bs. It could strengthen the local economy, but she wasn’t sure how the locals would feel about it.

It was worth thinking about, she supposed.

“You could call the Cincinnati and Columbus news channels and have them run a story on Haunted Cuttersville, right in time for Halloween this year.”

“Cuttersville on the news?” The idea was unfathomable.

“Shelby Tucker’s tour on the news.” Boston grinned at her and reached for her hand, stroking her thumb beneath his.

Except in six months there probably wouldn’t be a Haunted Cuttersville Tour. She would probably be hunkered down on the farm for the winter and counting the days of her cycle to get pregnant.

The thought made heat rush through her body and her heart pound in anxiety.

“Hey, you alright? Your face just lost all its color.” Boston stopped walking and bent over her in concern, pressing his lips to her forehead. “You feel clammy.”

Clammy. How sexy. “I’m fine, just the heat got to me for a second.” The heat and a sudden overwhelming panic that she didn’t know what the hell she was doing. What she wanted or where she was going or why five minutes earlier she’d thought it all made sense.

Except she knew she wanted Boston—that was the only thing she seemed to be clear on.

“Do you want to hang out in the shade for a minute?” Boston started to tug her off the road to an overgrown copse of trees.

His concern was sweet, and truthfully, more than she would have expected of him when she’d first met him. But the Boston she’d come to know over the last few weeks was more than that aggressive corporate shark he portrayed to the world. He was kind, and funny, and just a little bit needy, whether he realized it or not. He wanted someone to love him.

Shelby thought it wouldn’t be that hard to let herself do just that. And maybe it would be okay to fall a tiny bit for him, while she had a wild summer affair to remember fondly in her old age. To give something back to Boston and to feel daring and alive and sassy once before she settled down and did what was right with her life.

“No, I’m fine. We’re here anyways.” She pointed to a little pull-off in the road that dead-ended with a sign that read NO DUMPING.

“This is it?” He looked dubious. “Why would a ghost haunt this place?”

“Because this is sort of like Cuttersville’s Lovers’ Lane. Cars park off the road here and couples make out.”

“Here?” Boston looked horrified. “There’s nothing but a scrubby bunch of trees and a pitted road. What’s romantic about that?”

Nothing if you thought real hard about it. But most people who came there were thinking only about each other, not the scenery.

“No one from the road can see you,” Shelby said wryly. “And when you’re eighteen and every living soul in town knows you, your car, and your parents, you’ll take any hidden spot you can.”

Boston turned back to her. “Did you ever make out here, Shelby Tucker?”

His tone was teasing, so she tossed him a saucy grin. “Of course. All the time. Still do.”

“Oh, really?” Boston started toward her, obviously going to put her words to the test.

But Shelby darted back onto the road, out of his reach, laughing. “So the story goes that William Sherman loved his lady most devotedly.”

Boston followed her, stalking her, looking intent on getting his hands on her. “I don’t care.”

“Of course you do. You want to hear all about Haunted Cuttersville—that’s why you wanted a private tour.”

“I wanted a private tour so I could be alone with you.”

Even though his words sent a sharp pang of desire below her belly, she teased him again. “But with the spirits of the undead around, we’re never really alone, are we?”

He gave a grunt as he reached for her, a sound that could have meant agreement, disgust, or a rock was wedged in his boot. Shelby laughed and took off running, his fingers slipping over her elbow but not getting a good enough grip on her to halt her progress.