Can a ghost help you unload that couch off the trailer?
No. But Id dump the damned thing on the ground before I let you touch it.
Chapter 3
Anger forced back the last vestiges of the fuzzy gray mist that had clouded Jillians head when Chance had found her lying on the basement floor. Dont you have a bachelor party to plan?
Im told you have everything to do with the wedding completely planned.
I do.
Good, because I came to help. Now stop being stubborn.
I might be stubborn, but you are a jerk. She stepped through the open front door and marched down the steps. On the last one, the rotted board gave way. She pitched forward and would have landed on her face had Chance not been right behind her and caught her, pulling her back against his front. He wrapped his arms around her middle and held on.
Her pulse pounding, Jillian inhaled a long, steadying breath. Then she pried the arms from around her. Thank you, she said grudgingly. But I still dont need your help.
Maybe you dont, but Im not leaving without you. So while Im here, you might as well let me help you carry that couch.
Shed had two high school boys help her load the couch from her apartment into the trailer. The best she could do by herself would be to scoot it to the edge of the trailer and dump in on the ground. Alone, shed never get it up the porch stairs and into the house. Even with a hand truck, she wouldnt be able to get it through the door. God, she hated letting Chance help. After hed called her stubborn and said those awful things about her house, she really disliked the man.
Okay. But just the couch, she muttered.
Together, they lifted the couch out of the trailer and carried it up the porch steps.
Jillian lost her grip twice on the heavy piece of furniture and had to stop. By the time they had it in the house, her back hurt. When they finally got it to the back of the house, Jillian was questioning the couchs very existence. Why hadnt she sold it in a yard sale rather than move it?
With the couch shoved up against a wall in the room at the back of the house Jillian had designated to store all her boxes and furniture, she straightened, pressing a hand to the small of her aching back.
Chance stared across the sofa at her. Why were you in the basement?
Jillian closed her eyes, trying to remember why shed gone down there in the first place. When it came to her, she opened her eyes wide. I heard a kitten. She spun on her heels and hurried to the kitchen.
No way. Chance caught up with her before she reached the basement door. Youre not going down there.
But I heard a kitten. It might have been separated from its mother. I couldnt leave it down there.
Then let me look for it. Chance stepped in front of her, blocking her path. You dont need to fall down the stairs a second time.
I didnt fall, she insisted.
Okay, so you didnt fall. You were just taking a nap on the floor when I found you.
Jillian hiked her brows. The kitten?
Promise youll stay put?
She glared at him.
He didnt budge.
At that moment, the animals cries sounded from the darkness.
Okay, Jillian said. I promise to stay here. Now, will you go?
He grinned for the first time since theyd met. The expression lightened his face and made her heart flutter. When he wasnt scowling, Chance was an incredibly attractive man.
She shook herself, pushing back that errant thought.
When he turned toward the stairs, her breath caught and she blurted, Wait.
Why?
Jillian didnt answer. She spun and raced out the front door, dived into the passenger side of Daves truck and retrieved the flashlight shed seen on the rear floorboard. Back into the house she skidded to a stop in front of Chance, breathing hard.
Here. She grabbed his hand and slapped the flashlight into his open palm.
Thank you. He closed his fingers around the light and squeezed her hand. Then he disappeared into the basements shadows, the beam of the flashlight marking his course.
Jillian stood at the top of the stairs, her throat tight, her breathing ragged.
She found herself praying he would hurry. You sure you dont want me to help?
You promised to stay up there.
Yeah, but two could find the kitten faster.
And if a ghost locks the door again, who would rescue the both of us?
Jillian bit down on her retort. There are no such things as ghosts.
Then explain the hook, Chances disembodied voice said from the darkness.
She couldnt, so she remained quiet in the kitchen, throwing a glance over her shoulder every so often as chills rippled down her spine. She didnt believe in ghosts, but she couldnt help feeling she was being watched.
A miniature, snarling whine echoed off the walls below.
Come here, you little poltergeist, Chance muttered.
More spats from the kitten were followed by a hearty curse.
Damn it!
A minute later, a light shone at the bottom of the stairs. Chance started up with a bundle of rags in one hand, the flashlight in the other. I found one of your ghosts.
Jillian reached for the wriggling wad of cloth.
Careful, Chance said. Hes got some sharp claws.
A small gray head poked out of the fabric and big blue eyes shone up at her.
Jillian gathered the cloth-wrapped kitten in her hands and carried him into the evening light streaming in through the dirty back window. Once she unwrapped the feline, she could see the animal was scrawny, underweight and malnourished. Ah, poor baby. Wheres your mama?
Poor baby? Chance snorted. He nearly scratched my eyes out. Just like a cat. Try to help one, and what do you get? Mauled.
Jillian rolled her eyes in his direction. Really? His laughing eyes made her heartbeat stutter. Then she saw the line of red across his cheek. Oh, dear, he did get you good. The kitten curled into Jillians hands. Come out to the truck. I have a fresh bottle of water, and I know where to find my box of towels.
Point me in the right direction. Im not sure I trust either one of you at this point. He led the way through the house and held the door for her as she carried the kitten through.
I gave you the option of leaving, she reminded him.
He shook his head. Not an option. Too dangerous for a lone woman.
Her shoulders stiffened. Im going to live here eventually. She deposited the kitten, rags and all, on the front seat of Daves truck and retrieved the bottle of water in the console. By myself. When she straightened, she was startled by how close Chance stood. She froze, her breath hitching in her lungs.
Chance took the bottle but didnt move away, effectively trapping her between the truck door and his body. Preferably after youve had good dead-bolt locks and a security system installed.
Ha. Jillian swallowed hard and lifted her chin. My money might last through new dead-bolt locks, but if the choice comes between running water and a security system, Id prefer to bathe indoors, thank you very much.