A Date with the Other Side (Page 42)

A Date with the Other Side (Cuttersville #1)(42)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Now. Shelby could almost hear the disclaimer tacked on to the end of his sentence. Boston only wanted her now, because she was a novelty, and eventually he’d tire of her.

And what exactly was the problem with that? That was nothing less than she had expected right from the get-go, and nothing less than what she wanted anyway.

There was no future with Boston, and she didn’t want one. She couldn’t picture him staying in Cuttersville, and she could never leave. She’d known all of that when she’d dropped her drawers for him in the Bigleys’ barn.

So why was she acting like a jealous girlfriend?

Because she was starting to care about him, damn him, and she needed to get her priorities adjusted before she went and made a total fool out of herself. She needed to remember that she’d made a decision to remarry Danny one way or the other at the end of the summer.

She could have her fling with Boston, or not, but either way she was settling back down with Danny to live the rest of her life. The question was whether she could restrain her emotions enough to enjoy Boston Macnamara in the short term.

“I don’t know, Boston.” But the words sounded weak.

He must have sensed her capitulation. Boston held her at the waist, stroking with his thumbs, and he nuzzled in her hair with his mouth and nose. “Please, Shelby. I want to see you spread out on that big bed, and I want to be inside you.”

Apparently she wanted that too, if her restless body was any indication. Her panties were damp and her ni**les were standing at attention.

“It’s disturbing staying in a haunted house, Shelby. You’ll be keeping me from getting scared.”

She snorted and looked up at his teasing face. “Oh, right. You look just terrified.”

“Terrified you’ll say no.” His fingers had worked under her shirt and the feel of his warm flesh on hers was tantalizing.

Spared from answering by Amanda turning around, Shelby struggled to dredge up some resistance, but found she didn’t have any. Not a single stinking drop.

“Boston, aren’t you going to introduce me to your cher amie? I want to meet the woman who has you basking in small-town life.” Amanda flipped back that long blond hair that Shelby wanted to strangle her with, and laughed. “I mean, look at you. PDA-ing at a parade at ten A.M., who would have ever thought that of you?”

While she was sure Amanda was nice in a rich, bitchy kind of way, Shelby couldn’t help but hate her on sight. She was the kind of woman Boston should be with—thin, educated, stylish—and the irony of Shelby’s finally finding a man who could stir her passionate side, while being all wrong for her, wasn’t the least bit amusing. And Amanda was the living, breathing example of reality butting into Shelby’s lust-filled thoughts.

If Boston thought anything of Amanda’s comments, he was too city-smooth to say anything. He gave a bland smile, left his hands on Shelby’s waist, and spoke. “Amanda Delmar, Shelby Tucker and Danny Tucker.”

Shelby murmured a “Nice to meet you,” trying not to sound like she was lying, which she was. Women like Amanda Delmar just drove home all her insecurities and that annoyed the spit out of her.

She’d never been one to worry about appearance, and she didn’t want to start now just because Blondie was blessed with good DNA and wealth. At the end of the day, Shelby had the sneaking suspicion she was happier anyway. Amanda looked malcontent behind her expensive pink sunglasses.

But she couldn’t stop herself from thinking she shouldn’t have eaten three doughnuts for breakfast.

“Likewise,” Amanda said with a brilliant pearl-white smile. “Are you brother and sister?” she asked Danny.

Danny, who looked his usual impassive and friendly self, seemed to have recovered from his earlier fascination with Amanda’s height and br**sts, and just shook his head. “Actually, Shelby’s my ex-wife.”

Danny locked eyes with Shelby, his gaze dropping to Boston’s hand resting on her. She read the question in his expression and, embarrassed and not sure why, she took a step forward, forcing Boston’s hand to drop.

Before Amanda could voice the question that seemed to be floating from her unnaturally plump lips, Shelby smiled at her. “I run a haunted house tour, Amanda. Maybe you’d like to come one day while you’re here and see the local spirit spots. You look like a thrill seeker.”

Maybe the Bigleys’ cow would moo and scare her back to Chicago.

“Haunted houses? How intriguing. Sure, give me the details and I’ll come.”

“Boston’s house is haunted,” Danny offered. “And so is the house you’re staying in, Amanda, though it’s not on Shelby’s tour. Too far out.”

“The house I’m staying in is haunted?” Amanda looked thrilled at the prospect.

“My house just has drafts,” Boston said, still in denial. Then he shot Shelby an intimate look. “And I still haven’t gotten the complete tour, Shelby.”

And Shelby knew precisely why. Because he’d made her moan in a barn, and she’d panicked. But she wasn’t going to give him any Haunted Cuttersville Tour. He didn’t give a crap about the ghosts, and she knew it. It was just an excuse for him to remind her of how he’d made her feel with her clothes off.

“Absolutely, the house is haunted,” Danny said. “Both of them.”

“Who’s haunting it? Short people?” Amanda asked wryly. “The ceilings were not made with twenty-first-century women in mind.”

“Who haunts the Gray House, Shel, honey? I can’t remember,” Danny asked.

“The woman in the mirror.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“What mirror?” Amanda looked like she thought it was hooey, but was still curious.

“The one in the second bedroom, the room with the glass in the door.”

“Why is there glass in the door anyway? It’s not exactly private.”

“That was a porch at one time, so that door was an exterior door. No one knows where that mirror originally came from, but rumor has it a young virile German man was passing through town, and stopped to rest for the night at the local drinking establishment.” Shelby lowered her voice. “He met a girl here in Cuttersville that night, and married her, and built her that cute little gray house, a love bungalow. Only one night he disappeared, the only sign of anything wrong a large black dog waiting outside in the yard. Some say it was the devil set to escort the man to hell. For it turned out he was a murderer back in Germany, and carrying a stash of stolen money.”