Read Online The Ghost Exterminator by Vivi Andrews - Free Book Online

a minute or two to enjoy the smile. The ghosts looked like two little green fireflies behind the left side of his collarbone, rather than the full-body glow that mediums had when they were hosting, so she was pretty sure the laughter—and the edge of hysteria—were all Wyatt.
    Jo plopped down cross-legged onto the floor in front of him and waited patiently for him to stop rocking and wheezing. God, he was gorgeous when he smiled. It was as if the constant mask of disapproval and condemnation evaporated into an easy, open grin that didn’t just change his face, it changed him . If not for the glimmer of panic in his too-blue eyes, she could have let him keep on laughing forever, smiling back like a dimwit and loving every second of it.
    “Wyatt?”
    He subsided into periodic high-pitched giggling accompanied by shudders that racked his shoulders as he struggled to suppress his hysteria.
    “Why don’t I try just giving them a little tug and see if they pop right out?” she suggested helpfully. “Maybe they won’t resist and you won’t have to come with me to the house after all. It’s probably better that way anyway.” That way she couldn’t accidentally throw any other little ghosts into him if he distracted her again, which she suspected was what happened in the first place.
    Wyatt sighed heavily and flopped onto his back, letting his arms fall spread-eagle to the sides. “Do your worst, ghost exterminator.”
    “Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Jo muttered, crawling on her hands and knees to lean over Wyatt. He looked up at her, his eyes lazily half-lidded and a teasing shadow of a smile still curving his mouth. He looked utterly relaxed and completely nonjudgmental, lying there, willing to accept whatever she wanted to do to him.
    Her hormones provided several deliciously wicked, and physiologically challenging, suggestions as to what she could do with him at her mercy, but Jo simply placed her palm flat against his shoulder where the ghosts were hiding. He was warm—and here she’d thought all businessmen were as cold-blooded as snakes—and surprisingly muscular beneath his Armani, for someone who spent his days sitting in a chair.
    A lock of her hair slid out from behind her ear as she bent over him and he reached up to slowly run the inky black strands through his fingers, the act far more distracting than it should have been.
    Did he have to look so damned post-coital? She already felt like one giant exposed nerve when she was in his presence and now he had to add this lazy sex appeal to the mix of frustration, anger, and prejudice she was already defending against.
    She closed her eyes against the hypnotic sight of him toying with her hair, ignoring the occasional gentle pull against her scalp indicating he hadn’t stopped playing with the lock just because she stopped watching him. Her two-year-old niece had taught herself how to play peek-a-boo by herself by holding her hands in front of her own eyes and then removing them and giggling hysterically. Jo had thought this particularly ridiculous until her sister had explained that, in Maya’s world, what she couldn’t see simply wasn’t there, so taking her hands away from her face was a bright new surprise every time. Jo suddenly found herself wishing she had that same lack of awareness of what went on beyond her closed eyes.
    Only Wyatt Haines could make her insanely turned on just by smiling and touching her hair and simultaneously have her wishing she were two again.
    Instead of opening her eyes and seeing him lying on the floor like an open invitation, she opened her second sight, focusing on the ghosts rather than the body—and what a body—they were hiding out in.
    The pair of them were compacted down to their smallest size, two little balls of green energy about the size of marbles, rolling around behind Wyatt’s clavicle.
    Leaving her physical hand pressed against his shoulder, Jo reached in and wrapped her ethereal fingers around