Read Online Dead to the Max by Jasmine Haynes - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jasmine Haynes
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bizarre psychic gift anyway? Is it your pathway to heaven? Is it your good deed that’ll get you through the pearly gates?” A headache sliced through her temples.
“Is that what you’re afraid of? That I’ll leave you once you find your own power?”
Yes, yes, yes! Of course, he had to already know that, but she still didn’t want her fears out in the bright light of his scrutiny. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I won’t leave you the day you admit the truth to yourself.” He was at her back, surrounding her, as if he covered her with his hard, protective body. “I won’t leave you just because you accept the gifts God gave you.”
She stepped away from his warmth, away from the weakness stealing into her bones. “You already left me, two years ago. For a goddamn pack of cigarettes.”
His breath caressed her nape. “You want me to quit smoking?”
She should have pointed out that he’d just done the typical male shuffle to get out of answering the real question. She could have pointed out that ghosts can’t smoke. She could have pointed out that he was already dead. Instead, she whispered, “Yes.”
The ever-present aroma of fresh cigarette smoke disappeared as if she’d snapped her fingers. The air pulsed with peppermint, a sharp, sweet, clean smell. Cameron had always chewed peppermints when he was somewhere he couldn’t smoke.
“I think I’m going crazy.”
“I love you, Max.”
God, how she ached for him.
The cat screeched, a hideous sound closer to that of a dying chicken than a hungry stray. Max puffed out a breath, then sucked it back in. Finally she pulled a saucer off the single shelf where she kept her one-place setting and put it on the sill. The cat didn’t wait for Max to fill the saucer before jumping to the ledge. It lapped at the stream straight from the milk carton.
“Poor buzzard,” Max murmured, the resemblance so close to her lost Louis, she itched to stroke him. She reached out a tentative hand.
“You’re going to fall in love with that animal.”
“This is the last time I’m feeding it.”
“No, it’s not.”
She rolled her lips between her teeth and held her breath, fingers only inches from the dull, matted fur.
“I trust him, Max.”
She jerked. “The cat?”
“The detective.”
“DeWitt Quentin Long?” Her voice rose to a squeak. Why bring him up again? She couldn’t follow Cameron’s thought patterns. “Why do you trust that guy, of all people?”
“It’s just a very strong feeling I have. He’s good for you.”
So, it was okay to be attracted to the detective, but not okay to have an attraction for Nicholas Drake. They weren’t even her own feelings anyway. Rising, she put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes in his general direction. “Please don’t tell me you’re match-making with Detective Long.”
“Merely using my intuition about him, darling.”
“Well, why don’t you just use that ghostly intuition to find Wendy’s killer? Maybe do a little eavesdropping, a little poking around in somebody else’s head.”
“You know I can’t do that, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, I know. You get so many feet away from me and lose your ethereal presence. You can only read my mind, invade my life, my house, my office, my car—”
“You sound bitter.”
She was. He’d been stolen from her with the twitch of a nervous finger on a trigger. She wasn’t bitter, however, that he’d stayed with her for two years. How much longer could she keep him? It didn’t bear questioning. “We were talking about Detective Long, and why you find him so utterly trustworthy.”
“He’s not stupid, Max. He checked that drawer. He knew the book wasn’t there yesterday.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not stupid, either, Cameron. I know someone planted it.” She tapped her fingers against her cheek. “Remy. He’s the only one who could have done it.”
“Or an ex-employee who still has a key?” Meaning Nick.
“You’re so
“Is that what you’re afraid of? That I’ll leave you once you find your own power?”
Yes, yes, yes! Of course, he had to already know that, but she still didn’t want her fears out in the bright light of his scrutiny. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I won’t leave you the day you admit the truth to yourself.” He was at her back, surrounding her, as if he covered her with his hard, protective body. “I won’t leave you just because you accept the gifts God gave you.”
She stepped away from his warmth, away from the weakness stealing into her bones. “You already left me, two years ago. For a goddamn pack of cigarettes.”
His breath caressed her nape. “You want me to quit smoking?”
She should have pointed out that he’d just done the typical male shuffle to get out of answering the real question. She could have pointed out that ghosts can’t smoke. She could have pointed out that he was already dead. Instead, she whispered, “Yes.”
The ever-present aroma of fresh cigarette smoke disappeared as if she’d snapped her fingers. The air pulsed with peppermint, a sharp, sweet, clean smell. Cameron had always chewed peppermints when he was somewhere he couldn’t smoke.
“I think I’m going crazy.”
“I love you, Max.”
God, how she ached for him.
The cat screeched, a hideous sound closer to that of a dying chicken than a hungry stray. Max puffed out a breath, then sucked it back in. Finally she pulled a saucer off the single shelf where she kept her one-place setting and put it on the sill. The cat didn’t wait for Max to fill the saucer before jumping to the ledge. It lapped at the stream straight from the milk carton.
“Poor buzzard,” Max murmured, the resemblance so close to her lost Louis, she itched to stroke him. She reached out a tentative hand.
“You’re going to fall in love with that animal.”
“This is the last time I’m feeding it.”
“No, it’s not.”
She rolled her lips between her teeth and held her breath, fingers only inches from the dull, matted fur.
“I trust him, Max.”
She jerked. “The cat?”
“The detective.”
“DeWitt Quentin Long?” Her voice rose to a squeak. Why bring him up again? She couldn’t follow Cameron’s thought patterns. “Why do you trust that guy, of all people?”
“It’s just a very strong feeling I have. He’s good for you.”
So, it was okay to be attracted to the detective, but not okay to have an attraction for Nicholas Drake. They weren’t even her own feelings anyway. Rising, she put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes in his general direction. “Please don’t tell me you’re match-making with Detective Long.”
“Merely using my intuition about him, darling.”
“Well, why don’t you just use that ghostly intuition to find Wendy’s killer? Maybe do a little eavesdropping, a little poking around in somebody else’s head.”
“You know I can’t do that, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, I know. You get so many feet away from me and lose your ethereal presence. You can only read my mind, invade my life, my house, my office, my car—”
“You sound bitter.”
She was. He’d been stolen from her with the twitch of a nervous finger on a trigger. She wasn’t bitter, however, that he’d stayed with her for two years. How much longer could she keep him? It didn’t bear questioning. “We were talking about Detective Long, and why you find him so utterly trustworthy.”
“He’s not stupid, Max. He checked that drawer. He knew the book wasn’t there yesterday.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not stupid, either, Cameron. I know someone planted it.” She tapped her fingers against her cheek. “Remy. He’s the only one who could have done it.”
“Or an ex-employee who still has a key?” Meaning Nick.
“You’re so
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