Ghostsnaps (Knead to Know Book 4) (3 page)

Just as I hoped, the seriousness faded and his eyes glittered. “I prefer my doodles to be more graphic than that.”

I laughed. “Apologize to the notary for me.” I glanced at the clock. “Crap, I have to get back to the bakery.” I started to get up.

His arms wrapped around me tight. Pinning me against his chest, he rolled me beneath him. He looked down at me, soft, dark hair falling into his eyes. “Do you want to meet them?”

The giggles along with the air in my chest evaporated. I knew exactly who he was talking about. The most secretive man I knew was inviting me to meet his parents. If heads could explode from shock, mine would be in pieces all over the room. I waited for the catch, the joke, anything to explain the offer away, but nothing came. He just stared at me, waiting for my answer. I didn’t know what to say. The limb we were on was fragile. A gust of wind from any direction could snap it right off. I reached up and traced my finger down the scar above his lip. “Is that a good idea?”

He gave me a half smile, kissed my finger, then caught both of my arms and pinned them down above my head. “I think they’d like you.”

“Of course they would. Parents always like me. I’m sweet and nice and I cook. What’s not to like? I’m like parent catnip. I’m the girl you bring home.”

His eyes darkened. “So how ‘bout it?”

I wanted to meet them. I wanted to see the people who raised the enigma currently pinning me to his bed, but…there were so many buts.
But
meeting parents wasn’t casual.
But
it felt like a huge step in our relationship in a direction I wasn’t ready to go.
But
it was also honest. Surely he wouldn’t hire fake parents. What would be the gain in that? “But what if someone captures me? I’m weak. This sort of information could be tortured out of me. I’ll talk. I know I will.”

His eyes closed as he pressed his lips to mine. “Is that right? Maybe we should practice then just to be safe.”

Anxious butterflies waited with barely concealed glee for him to make good on that promise, but he didn’t make a move. He was still waiting for an answer. “I’d love to meet your family,” I whispered, surprised at the excited flutter in my stomach.

His face softened ever so slightly. His lips feathered along my jaw. “If I help you bake, how much time would that buy us?”

“Enough,” I breathed.

My casual relationship was rocketing toward a commitment and I didn’t know how to slow it down without hurting his feelings. Phoenix was clearly winning this game, but whatever he thought the prize was, I worried he’d be disappointed.

“You know, the new mirror has me thinking. We should host an event at the bakery,” Izzy said with her typical bright-eyed enthusiasm that was hard to say no to. “Oh, good morning. Hi. I didn’t know you were here.” Izzy gave Phoenix a dreamy smile, then looked back at me with a satisfied nod.

Phoenix looked up from filling the churro cream puffs. “Maggie drives a hard bargain. If I want to spend time with her I have to work for it.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “What sort of event?”

Phoenix looked back down at what he was doing.

“Well, since people loved our Valentine’s Day package, maybe we could make it a thing. Like have a date night series where we offer a dessert, wine, and entertainment. We could even team up with a local restaurant for a dinner option.”

“All of this from a mirror?” Phoenix carefully filled another puff. “I should hire you to promote the club, we have lots of mirrors,” he said dryly.

Izzy practically beamed. Not that Phoenix needed help promoting his nightclub, the jinn really had that market sewn up. “Well, it’s not just any mirror, is it?” she said.

“It isn’t? How so?” he asked, starting another pastry.

“Didn’t Maggie tell you?”

At this he looked up in earnest, setting the pastry bag to the side. “I don’t believe she did.” His gaze lingered on me a moment, then he turned to Izzy like she was his new best friend.

I hadn’t even considered that he’d care about the origins of the mirror. “Boone found a mirror in a house he’s gutting and gave it to me. It’s in the café.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow as if to ask if that was the whole story, and guilt once again flooded me. I needed to tell him.

“Well, it’s not just any mirror. It’s beautiful. It’s from the 1920s and totally vintage cool. And that’s what got me thinking,” Izzy said, clasping her hands together in front of her. “It would be fun to transform Knead to Know back into a speakeasy for a night.”

“A speakeasy.” Phoenix’s eyes stayed locked on me. “Baker would have loved that.”

It was like the air had been vacuumed out of my lungs. He couldn’t stay stuff like that in front of Izzy. “Yes,
The Great Gatsby
was his favorite book,” I said, flicking my eyes toward Izzy as a reminder we weren’t free to discuss everything.

Phoenix went back to his cream puffs without a word.

“Plus, this building is from the same era. How cool would it be to pay homage to its history? We could do a murder mystery event. People can dress up like gangsters and flappers. Surely we can find some sort of mystery or set up on the Internet. Everyone would be assigned a character and solve a crime of some sort.”

It actually sounded like a lot of fun. I’d have to come up with another dessert for the event, but that wasn’t a bad thing. Since Valentine’s Day people had been special ordering my soufflés. At least doing things like this inspired me to keep the menu fresh and varied.

“You hate the idea…” she said with a sigh.

I shook my head. Maybe I was getting as hard to read as Phoenix. The thought made me smile. “No, sorry, I love it. I was just thinking about what dessert I would make.”

“What if this time we do like a dessert buffet instead of one dessert and keep them smaller since people won’t be sitting. We can get a bartender to serve wine.”

“Perfect. I’ll start working on a menu and we’ll set a date so you can create an advertising campaign.”

“On it. Let me get my calendar.” She grinned, flipping her blond ponytail as she trotted off.

The bell on the front door chimed and I looked up. The door should have been locked, we hadn’t opened yet. I started toward the front and stuck my head out the kitchen door. No one was there. Weird, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. We had gotten a late start this morning.

When I turned back around, Phoenix was watching me out of the corner of his eye. “I didn’t mean to startle you by talking about Baker.”

I shook my head. “It’s not a big deal. We just have to be careful what we say in front of Izzy.”

He slid the completed tray away from him. “Her idea could be good for the bakery.”

I went back to my station. “I think so.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Will it bother you?”

“What?”

“To have that sort of reminder of him?”

I hadn’t considered it in those terms at all. I shook my head. “I don’t mind remembering Baker. We had a lot of really good times together. And you’re right. He’d love it.”

“Anytime you want to talk about him…”

It was my turn to raise my eyebrows. Phoenix had obviously been body snatched. First the offer to meet the parents and now to talk about Baker. What was next?

He stood up. “Or not. Whatever.” He stretched his arms and rolled his shoulders. “I have to get some sleep.” He came over and brushed his lips against mine. “Are you coming over tonight?”

Definitely strange behavior. I shook my head. “I have plans.”

He shrugged. “Then, I’ll see you when I see you. If you guys need to borrow a bartender that could probably be arranged.” With that he left.

The rest of the morning flew past. I barely had a moment to consider Phoenix’s oddness. As closing time approached and the crowd trickled off, Izzy and I were able to discuss the event in more detail. We worked out a date and time for the murder mystery party. The desserts and the game were up to me; she’d take care of the rest. While Izzy was waiting on someone at the counter, jazz started playing again.

What the hell? I scanned the room looking for the culprit, but there was nothing. Coming out from behind the counter with the coffee pot in hand, I walked around the entire room, but the brassy sound never got louder or softer. After I freshened everyone’s cup, I stuck my head outside. No music at all. But this time as I walked back to my spot, it grew louder.

Movement to my right caught my eye, but I didn’t turn my head in time to see what it was. The music ended just as abruptly as it started.

“Did you hear that?” I asked when Izzy came back over.

“Hear what?”

“Music.”

She listened for a moment. “I don’t hear anything.” Her nose wrinkled. “Maybe you’re overtired. You should go home. I can close the shop by myself."

****

I ran red lipstick carefully over my lips, sighing heavily as I mentally obsessed over how I should have told Phoenix about Boone. Not that he would have cared. Okay, well, I didn’t know if he’d care or not. Maybe he would. Regardless, I should have told him. It was the honest thing to do. I would have wanted to know if the situation was reversed. I picked up my phone and stared at the locked screen. It wasn’t a big deal unless I made it a big deal.

I’d just tell Boone that I was seeing Phoenix and never should have agreed to go out with him, sort of like what he’d told me before. We just had bad timing when it came to each other and that was probably for the best. I needed him as a friend more than I needed him as a lover. I slipped my feet into a pair of black heels and pulled on my black leather motto jacket, then took one last look in the mirror.

Phoenix’s influence was creeping into my wardrobe apparently. Along with the red lipstick, I was wearing black and white, which wasn’t like me. Or maybe this was the new me. My reflection frowned. I didn’t really want a new me. I liked the old me who had never hurt, let alone killed, someone. But now that was a necessary part of my survival. Sure I had to feed on “evil” people, but the line was still hazy. I didn’t consider Phoenix an evil person, but I could feed on him. And if I could feed on him then…that definitely said something about the kind of person he was. What if the other lives I took fell into that same gray category.

Regardless, “killer” wasn’t a title I ever imagined claiming, and maybe it explained my style changes. Maybe this new element of my personality didn’t reconcile with pretty dresses and nice boyfriends. Maybe that’s why I liked Phoenix. He was a reflection of the life I was going to have, whether or not I wanted it.

There was a knock on my front door. I went to answer, shaking my head, trying not to fidget.

Boone stood at my threshold, smiling wide, holding a small paper bag. His longish blond hair was still damp and he smelled like soap as he stepped inside. “Wow,” he said. He lightly touched my arm as he brushed his lips against my cheek. “You look great.”

I cleared my throat, regretting ever agreeing to this. “Thanks.” I bit my lip, scrambling for something to say. Anything. Of course, the usual barrage of thoughts chose now to completely abandon me. “Um, let me get you a plate.”

I nearly ran to the kitchen just to get away. Boone closed the door and trailed behind me. I reached into the cupboard above my head and grabbed a plate, which promptly broke in my hand. Shit. I thought I had gotten the inhuman strength thing under control. I swept the shards into the trashcan then took a deep breath and got another with a gentler touch. I just needed to relax. Boone and I were friends, first and foremost. All I had to do was focus on that. I handed him the dish then crossed my arms in front of me, tapping my foot.

Boone glanced over. A smile spread across his face and quickly turned into laughter. “You look as nervous as I feel. This is weird, right? Why is it weird? Would it have been less strange if we had gone out?”

My face warmed as I looked up at him, and I smiled despite my nerves. “I have no idea. It’s not like we don’t see each other every day. All of a sudden there’s all this pressure.”

He spooned out coconut curry over rice. “Maybe we’re trying too hard. Why does this have to be different than it usually is?”

Just like any other day. That I could do. That didn’t make me feel guilty that I was somehow being unfair to Phoenix. “Sounds good to me.” I slipped off my heels and took a deep breath. “I have wine.”

“Great.”

I went back to the kitchen and poured two glasses then carried them into the living room. We sat around the coffee table while Boone ate and I mostly just drank.

“So tell me about the house you’re working on,” I said. “Do you know much about the history?”

“Not a lot. The current owner just purchased the property—and it’s apparently the first time it has ever been on the market. The inside was fairly dated, hence the gutting. Not that any of it is in bad shape. For its age, the house is surprisingly well cared for. It just isn’t the style the owner wants. Like the master bedroom is completely covered in mahogany paneling, but the buyer is looking for simple and modern. I’m trying to salvage as much as I can. The house is something else though. If you want to see it, I can take you by the site.”

“I’d love to. Old houses are the best. The character and charm . . . you just don’t get it in new construction.”

“But at the same time, there’s something about the place that sets me on edge. I don’t know if it’s actually the house or the psychic thing, but I keep seeing a woman. I’m guessing it’s the previous owner. There’s a desperation to her. She wants to tell me something, but I can’t quite figure out how to speak with her. I’m not even positive whether or not she knows I’m there.”

“Like a ghost?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s always just a flash out of the corner of my eye. But I definitely think something’s there. Maybe she doesn’t like that I’m pulling her house apart. Actually, if it is a ghost, maybe you could see it and talk to it. You can do that, right?”

I nodded. Probably. I had deeper roots with the Abyss than Boone did. “It’s not every day someone offers to let me meet a ghost. Let’s do this. She’ll be my first. When do you want to go?”

He glanced at his watch. “Now’s good.”

Less than an hour later we pulled up in front of a three-story stone house on one of the prettiest streets I had ever been on in this city. Though it was close to the hustle of Lake Shore Drive, it was quiet and undoubtedly mostly residential. Mature trees lined the street, sheltering the well-kept homes and one beautiful apartment building that sat tucked back from the sidewalk on nicely manicured yards. I smiled as I climbed out of Boone’s truck. “I could totally live somewhere like this.”

Boone grinned. “For the bargain price of about two million dollars you could get one that needs work.”

I shook my head, dream crushed.

We climbed the stone steps and he unlocked the door. A modest foyer featured multiple narrow doorways, leading, I assumed, to other parts of the home. Unlike new houses, “open concept” was definitely not a design focus. The open door on my first left revealed a large living room. I peeked in, but didn’t enter.

“We’re tearing out most of the interior walls and opening this floor up as much as we can.” Boone continued to explain the plans as we walked through the house. The more he spoke about the changes, the less they seemed to suit the rooms we were in. This home had had its own vibe. One that would be a shame to lose. Not that any of the ideas sounded bad, per se. I was positive the end results would be beautiful, but this place seemed stuck in another era. Forcing the house into the present wasn’t going to be easy.

The ghost never showed up, but getting to see inside the house was still totally worth the trip. As I explored room to room, I couldn’t get the previous owner out of my mind. I agreed with Boone that it had definitely been a woman. There was something warm and feminine about the space, despite a few masculine features. If homes could have a soul, this one was female and something about her spoke to me. “Wow, this place definitely has a feel. I’ve never been in a house with such a strong personality.”