The Ghost of Christmas Never (2 page)

"Yours. I specifically asked for mine."

"Why?"

"Tell you later." He pivoted and strode to the check-in counter. I followed. When we told
that family they could have my room, the mom burst into tears and hugged me, which put her
daughter right in my face. I blinked, suddenly nose to nose with a blond-haired, blue-eyed angel
who smelled like heaven. I felt a stab of envy that surprised me. I'd set aside my dreams of marriage
long ago and without regrets. Too many other things had taken priority, with Mia being first on the
list.

"You two are amazing, you know that? I have to call my parents right this minute.
They're absolutely frantic." She put a cell phone to her ear, automatically dodging the little fingers
that reached for it. Her husband pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

"My treat." Jake touched the guy's shoulder. "Merry Christmas."

I'd never seen anyone look as shocked as that daddy.

"I'll just get my bag." I turned to walk down the hall, never noticing that Jake had
followed until I couldn't get the card key to work.

"Let me." He took it and swiped. Of course the green light blinked. I opened the door and
went inside with him on my heels. "How many are there?"

"Just one."

"I travel light, myself."

While I held the door open, Jake got my suitcase. We stepped back into the hall just in
time for Rob and Mia to wave and duck into their honeymoon suite. I followed Jake to his lodgings,
just a few doors down. When we went inside, I saw that his room looked exactly like mine: king-size
bed with maroon comforter, small table with two chairs, TV cabinet and dresser. "Got a
quarter?"

"The bed's all yours."

So he wasn't a self-serving jerk. But what, exactly, was he? And where did he really
stand on the wedding? Suddenly, I had to know. "Do you think they'll make it?"

To Jake's credit, he didn't pretend to not understand. "Since I don't know your sister
that well, it's hard for me to say. I will tell you that Rob is happier than I've ever seen him, and
believes he's found the woman of his dreams. So if you're worried about his commitment to the
marriage, don't be. He's a true blue kind of guy."

"Mia's just as committed."

"Then maybe it doesn't matter that they've only known each other for a few months.
Just because we're into our careers, doesn't mean that every person who isn't has it wrong."

Was it that obvious that I was unattached and worked too much? Or had Mia been
telling tales? "I guess I was just hoping for more than—"

"A wannabe country crooner for a brother-in-law?"

"Well, yes."

"With the support of my parents, my brother has been preparing for Nashville since the
age of five. He's sung at churches, weddings, rodeos, county fairs, and football games. He has an
agent. That agent has some auditions lined up. Rob's a man with a plan and definitely has better
odds at success than any "American Idol" finalist. Besides, his degree is in music. He can always
teach if he needs to."

Had my sister told me all this? I realized there was a chance she had, only I probably
hadn't been listening. "Good to know. Now if I can just get Mia to finish college."

Jake gave me the oddest look. "According to Rob, she's already been accepted into
Vanderbilt." He got the remote control and sat on the foot of the bed in front of the TV. "I think they
took all her credits, too."

Disconcerted that I hadn't known this, I walked to the window, pulled aside the curtain
and looked out at the night. Multicolored holiday lights blinked gaily in the distance, blurs that gave
the falling snow a rainbow glow. I suddenly wondered if I'd been an even bigger Scrooge than I
knew. "If I've been rude to you today, I'm sorry."

"You haven't been, but if you had, I'd understand. They're very young."

He had that right. Mia was only twenty-two and Rob just two years older. "Is he your
only sibling?"

"Nope. I was the first of five kids. Rob's the baby."

"Are your parents upset that they weren't invited to the wedding?"

"If they are, they haven't mentioned it. Besides, it's Christmas Eve, and they have
enough other kids and grandkids to keep them occupied."

I glanced outside again and began to feel a little better for some reason. "I've always
loved white Christmases. We don't get that many in Arkansas."

"I had a shoot in Cheyenne this time last year. You should've been there."

I turned to him, actually seeing him as a person instead of an obstacle. I could easily
picture him as charismatic host of a television show. Was he as handsome inside as out? I suspected
he was and left the window to find out more about him. "So you're a ghost hunter."

"That's right."

"Ever actually seen one?"

"I've seen my share, beginning when I was sixteen. A friend who'd committed suicide
came to me with a message for his parents."

Unsure how to take that, I sat in one of the chairs and crossed my leg so I could unzip
my boot. "Did you tell them what he'd said?" I kicked it off and wiggled my cramped toes. Then I
went for the other one.

Jake watched me kick it off, too. "I did."

"They believed you?" I next slipped out of my svelte leather jacket, inspecting it for
water damage as I went to the closet to hang it up. Miraculously I'd avoided any. I credited my black
nylon puff jacket for that and hung it up, too.

"Didn't want to hear what he had to say." He didn't seem bothered by that fact. "They
were still angry with him for doing it and probably doubted my abilities. I keep hoping they'll see
my show and realize I'm for real."

"Is there a ghost in this hotel?"

"Supposed to be." Following suit, Jake stood and shed his jacket, too. It definitely had
water damage, though I didn't think all of it was recent. I saw he'd worn a brown Henley
underneath it.

I brushed past him, headed back to my chair. "In this room?"

"Supposed to be. Do you believe in ghosts, Libby Mason?" He joined me at the table and
sat in the other chair, drumming his fingers.

That close up, his dark chocolate eyes knocked me sideways. "N-no."

"Thought not."

Another answer I didn't know how to take. Over the next half hour, we talked about my
bakery and his television show. His job sounded way more interesting, big surprise, and the format
intrigued me—a one-man ghost hunt with him doing all the filming himself.

At some point, I realized that I was very comfortable with Jake, almost as if we'd been
friends for years. That seemed odd after our rocky start, but maybe the rockiness was only on my
part. I really was drawn to him, and he'd been nothing but polite since we'd learned about each
other, even when refusing to help me derail the wedding train.

I glanced at my watch and saw it was after eleven. "I'm going to take a shower."

He nodded, picked up the remote again, and started channel surfing.

I got my PJs as well as my toiletry bag from my suitcase and headed to the bathroom,
where I brushed my teeth and removed my make-up while the shower water got hot. I heard the
door to our room opening and closing, but didn't check to see why. Instead, I hopped under the
spray, leaving my hair up until I finished so it wouldn't get wet. Once I had on my pajamas, I
loosened the knot at the back of my head and shook out my natural curls by bending way over and
tousling them. Though I wished for a robe, I didn't have one. That didn't matter of course. I was
covered from neck to ankles.

I found Jake lying on top of a sleeping bag on the floor to the left of the bed and in front
of the side table. His eyes widened slightly when he saw me, probably because of my choice in
sleepwear—PJs with penguins all over them. Intercepting my look of curiosity, he explained the
faded sleeping bag. "I've had this since I was sixteen. It goes wherever I do just in case."

He'd changed into plaid flannel sleep pants and wore a white cotton undershirt that
revealed muscled arms. He had one hand behind his head, but no pillow. I moved to the bed, where
I got two of the four that were there and tossed them to him.

He threw one back and tucked the other under his head. "Thanks. Ready for lights
out?"

"Whenever you are."

Jake turned off the television. Crawling underneath the fluffy comforter, I settled in and
switched off the bedside lamp. A tiny red dot across the room caught my eye. I switched on the light
again and saw that Jake had set up a video camera on the dresser—a video camera aimed my way. I
peeked over the side of the mattress and found him looking up at me. "What's that?" I pointed.

"What does it look like?"

"A camera."

"Good call."

"And why is it focused on me?"

"It's focused on the
bed
because the ghost that haunts this room supposedly likes
to snuggle with whoever is sleeping in it."

No wonder he didn't want to flip for the thing. I glared at him. "Are you kidding
me?"

Jake gave me his best what'd-I-do shrug. "What are you pissed about? You don't even
believe in them."

So I didn't. Fuming anyway, I turned off the lamp again. "Good luck filming your ghost of
Christmas never."

He just laughed.

I didn't worry about spirits for very long. In fact, I didn't worry about spirits at all since I
was not a believer. Instead, I lay in silence, thinking about the huge apology I owed my sister. She
was all the family I had, after all. And like an overprotective parent, I needed to let her get on with
her life. The thing was...in all the time I'd cared for her, I'd never once considered what would
happen to me when my work was done.

I thought of the angel at the check-in counter earlier that evening. I'd wanted a husband
and a dozen babies at one time. But fate had dealt a different hand. Mia had become the focus of my
maternal instinct as I'd baked and decorated, helped with homework, and anxiously waited for her
to come home from dates with boys who didn't deserve her. For years, I'd shelved my personal life
without regret, and what did I have to show for it? A well-adjusted sister who was everything I'd
ever wanted her to be: happy.

Great job, Libby. Now you can get a life.

As if I knew how.

Suddenly the other side of the bed dipped slightly. Jake, I assumed. Trying to scare me.
Just as I looked over my shoulder to tell him off, the comforter rustled, rose, and settled in a new
shape. My entire backside went freezing cold as nothing I could see snuggled up to me. Screaming
bloody murder, I threw back the covers and leapt from the bed. My feet landed on Jake, who yelped
in surprise as I quick-stepped over him and crashed into the table.

"What the hell?"

"There's something in that bed." I turned on the lamp and frantically pointed.

Jake worked his legs out of the sleeping bag so he could get up. Of course there was
nothing in or even on the bed, and in the bright light of normalcy, I doubted that there ever had
been.

Now I pointed at him. "This is your fault. All that talk about ghosts..."

"You had a nightmare?"

"No. I never even got to sleep."

"Really?" He went to his camera and messed with it for a several moments. "Holy
shit."

I joined him at the dresser and peered at the screen as he rewound what he'd just filmed
and reviewed it again. I saw myself in bed. On the other side of it a white mist appeared and began
to take the form of a middle-aged man in a sleep shirt that Ebenezer Scrooge might've slept
in—ruffled neck, shirttail hem, long sleeves. Before my eyes, he sat on the bed. I watched him lift the
covers and crawl under them so he could cuddle up to me.

Ew!

Outraged, I whirled on Jake, who clearly struggled not to laugh.

He quickly composed himself. "I did warn you."

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.

"And you can't really blame the guy. You're a beautiful woman alone in a bed."

Huh? Deliberately not going there, I snatched the camera to throw it at him. He grabbed
my wrist and gently took it from me. "Easy now. That cost me three grand."

I yanked myself free. "You set me up."

"I didn't think he'd show with me in here."

"But you turned on your camera just in case." I bit my knuckle in horror. "Oh God. Please
don't tell me that's why you offered those people my room. If this was all just an elaborate ruse to
get me in here..."

"While you'd definitely be worth the effort, I'm really not that clever."

For some reason I believed him. I sat on the foot of the bed. Jake put down the camera
and sat too close to me. I'd never been more aware of a guy. In fact, my heart rate actually kicked up
a notch, and it had nothing to do with lecherous spirits.

"I asked for this particular room so I could tape myself sleeping as a sort of control to
another shoot next year. I'm scheduled to return in February—a Valentine's Day event—and I plan to
bring one of my sisters along to sleep in this bed. I honestly didn't think about using the camera
until you came out of the bathroom with your hair in a mess—" He as good as screeched to a halt,
but a little too late.

Suddenly I couldn't breathe.

"Anyway, I apologize."

I swallowed hard, now dumbstruck on a number of levels. "So what do we do? I'll never
be able to rest after this."

He thought for a moment. "I guess I could put my sleeping bag on the bed instead of the
floor."

I gave that two whole seconds' consideration. "Should be okay. I mean it's not like we're
hot for each other..."

Oh God. Was I actually hoping he'd correct me? And what if he did?

"Exactly."

So he wasn't hot for me. Definitely disappointed, I gave myself a mental slap. Mia's
nuptials had clearly resurrected some old dreams and left me vulnerable tonight. Keeping
everything in perspective was now a must.

We set up our new arrangement with me under the covers and him not only on top of
them, but safely zipped into his antique sleeping bag. I switched off the lamp. Silence reined for
about ten minutes, during which I rehashed my earlier insecurities about moving on with my life. I
still got nowhere fast, so to get some answers, I turned to the only male available. "Do you really
think I'm beautiful?"