Authors: Melinda Barron
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Occult, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Ghosts
Chapter Eleven
Quinn, Dev, Fletch, and Martin stood beside Alison's grave.
"Is she here?” Quinn turned to Martin, who closed his eyes and then shook his head.
"She's gone. I felt nothing at the house, and I feel nothing here. I can't tell you where they've gone; I only know that I can't feel them anymore."
A wonderful feeling of contentment filled Quinn's heart. “They're together, then. It was so easy."
"Says the woman who didn't have ghostly talons at her throat,” Martin said, anger in his voice.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way."
"Never mind,” Martin responded. “I'm going to bed. I'll see you guys in the morning."
He turned and stalked off and Dev laughed.
"Don't worry, Quinn, he'll be right as rain in the morning."
They turned and joined hands as they began to walk back to the house.
"So, in the process of proving there were ghosts here, we drove them away,” Dev said. “I hope this doesn't hurt our business."
"Won't,” Fletch answered. “Some people want the ghosts gone. Don't know if Rachel is one of those people, though."
Quinn laughed. “I don't think so, but she'll find a way to use this as a marketing tool, I'll guarantee it."
They walked in silence for a bit before Quinn cleared her throat.
"So, we go back to New Orleans tomorrow. What happens then?"
"Well,” Dev said. “There's more room in my closet for your clothes. Fletch is a clothes horse, as you know."
"Am not,” Fletch said in a huff. “You got as many as I do."
"Doubt it,” Dev replied.
"So, you want me to move into your room?"
"We do,” Dev said. “I thought we'd made that clear. We bought that huge bed and everything."
They stopped on the porch of the house. “What happens when people ask about us?"
"We tell them the truth,” Fletch said. “Unless you're afraid it will hurt your public image,
chér
."
Quinn shook her head. “You know. I don't care if it does. I've decided to go for some interviews, see what's out there. I don't care what people think. I just want to be with you two."
Her eyes sparkled with tears. Dev leaned down and claimed her lips, his own soft and sweet against hers. When Fletch took his place, his own lips were demanding yet tender.
"So, it's the three of us?"
"Yes it is,” Dev answered. “And I think we need to go upstairs and make use of that wonderful bed."
They stepped inside and stopped dead in their tracks. They could hear female laughter, soft and sensual coming from upstairs.
Fletch took off at a run, with Dev close behind him. They flung open the door to Alison's room and stepped inside. Moans of pleasure filled the room and Quinn covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a gasp. Alison, Amedee and a third man, whom she guessed was Cyrille, were on the bed, or more likely floating above the bed, lying in each other's arms.
Alison laughed, and the moans deepened. Dev pushed Fletch and Quinn back toward the door.
"Looks like that bed is occupied. I suggest we go next door."
"Or back to the tree in the clearing for a little early morning romp,” Quinn said. “I bet I can beat you there."
"What do’ the winner get,” Fletch asked.
"To be on top,” Quinn replied, taking off for the stairs. She laughed as she heard Dev and Fletch's footsteps come down the stairs after her. She planned on beating them to the tree. And she planned on staying with her men as long as possible.
Their nights would be filled with three, as would their days. And Quinn would be sure that nothing came between them, in life, or in death.
The End
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