Meet the characters:
Ghost has already lost so many brothers and the only man he ever called his father. He refuses to lose another person he loves and for their sake he stays away, until Abigail. He’s willing to resurrect himself and come out of the shadows for her, with the help of the Pride. The road is rough, and with Abigail by his side, he’ll come back to the land of the living.
Abigail first met Ghost when she was taken and about to be sold in a sex slave ring. He saved her. From that moment, she only feels safe when he’s nearby. Then one day, he declares his intentions and she needs to accept the man he is. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
Ghost has enemies. The decision is clear. To protect Abigail, they must be eliminated.
Feel the passion:
Replacing the books to their rightful places on the shelves, I concentrate on emptying the newly loaded cart full of returned books. I stretch to set a book on a higher shelf only to find it out of reach. That’s when I smell the same scent as I did this morning in my room.
I must be imagining things, but I stop what I’m doing and inhale deeply, not wanting to let go of the fresh scent.
“Ghost,” I whisper, pressing the book I’m holding to my chest and closing my eyes to feel as well as smell the scent.
“Right here, little bird,” a gravelly voice murmurs from behind me.
I whip around to find Ghost standing before me. Well, more like looming, as I need to tilt my head all the way back to meet his gaze. Dear God, he’s just beautiful. His hand rises to my face to pick a stray hair that’s come loose from my ponytail off my cheek and curl it around my ear. His touch is so soft and gentle that I lean into his hand and close my eyes.
“If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.” My whisper is just loud enough for him to hear.
“Not a dream.” Ghost takes a step closer, one hand still caressing my cheek, the other braced on the shelf above me. “I have a job to do. I’ll be back in a month. Do I have someone to come back to?”
My heart is beating so fast and so loud that I can barely hear myself think. Me? Is he asking for me?
I blink.
I blink again. I can’t seem to find words.
Ghost speaks again. “Abby, baby, should I come home?”
“For me?” I ask stupidly, swallowing hard.
That’s when he lowers his head and intimately moves his nose over mine. His lips graze my cheek. “No point in coming back if I have nothing here to hold me.”
“Guard…” I murmur.
“Yeah, I love him I do, but I want more. It’s going to be twisted and fucked up, and I still don’t know how it’s all gonna work, but I’m not even going to go there if there’s no reason to,” he says quietly, his gaze boring into mine.
“Yes,” I say.
“I’m not who you think I am.”
“Yes,” I repeat with determination.
“You should think on it,” Ghost says.
“I’m sure.” I reach out and fist my fingers into his jacket, grabbing his attention. “I know you come to take care of me. I feel you with me. I want to know you. All of you. Am I a little scared? Sure. Is it crazy to want this to happen considering we know very little about each other? Absolutely. But it feels right. So, yes. My answer is yes. Come home.”
Ghost brushes his lips over my cheek, then speaks softly in my ear. “A month. If you change your mind, you tell Guard and he’ll get the message to me. You gotta know, little sparrow, once I claim you as mine, I’m not letting you go.”
He walks away without looking back at me. It’s a good thing, because if he did, I may have rushed right into his arms and begged him to stay.
Leaves you wanting more:
It was a good visit with Dad today, even though he didn’t recognize me. Those moments of lucidity are becoming less frequent. I can’t pretend it doesn’t affect me, because the more he forgets, the more it feels like I’m losing him. In a way, I am.
Having Ghost with me made it easier. On other occasions when I visited, I was afraid that the next time I came, my dad would be worse. Before we left today, Ghost talked about his beloved baseball team, the Mets. Dad’s eyes lit up, and he went on for over an hour about Dwight Gooden, the greatest player in history, in his opinion. When we moved Dad, we brought all his memorabilia with him. Partially because we want him to have the things he loves around him, and also to keep his brain active with memories.
Now that we’re home, it’s my turn to make dinner. I’ve discovered that Ghost is a meat-and-potatoes man. Dinner consists of roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, and fresh rolls we picked up from Hanna’s Bakery on the way home. I made my own bumbleberry crisp for dessert, hoping that Ghost loves it as much as I do.
“Dinner’s ready,” I call through the hall as I set the plates down, moving the small vase of purple lilacs on the table that I picked earlier that morning. Ghost comes through, guiding me into my chair and kissing my cheek.
“Looks and smells amazing, baby,” he says. Dinner with Ghost is always so easy. We talk about everything and anything. He mentions dinner at Vi’s place tomorrow and I decide to call her later to see what I can bring.
Ghost insists on doing the dishes, since I made dinner. As he struts into the kitchen, I can’t help thinking how lucky I am. His tight ass in those jeans makes me want to jump him. He keeps saying he needs to get his hair cut, but I hope he doesn’t do it anytime soon. I love the feel of his hair when I run my fingers through it.
I’ve been drawn to romance novels lately, and when it gets to those hot sexy scenes, I imagine Ghost and me doing those things together. When Ghost’s done in the kitchen, he joins me on the sofa, but before he can get comfortable, I climb onto his lap facing him with my thighs on either side of his legs. He quickly braces me with his huge hands on my ass.
“What’s up, little sparrow?” he asks. I contemplate sliding off and forgetting the whole seduction, but when I wriggle to get off, he holds me steady. “You can tell me anything.”
“It’s sort of embarrassing.” Heat is creeping into my cheeks, and I bite my lip. I close my eyes and tilt my head down. His fingers lift my chin to meet his eyes.
“Baby, give me your eyes.” I force them open and stare into his gorgeous gray ones. “What is it?”
I peer at him through my lashes. “I was reading a book and, uh, in it, the guy was sitting like you and the girl was on his lap.”
“Yeah, go on,” he urges, a smile coming across his handsome face, accentuating his prominent cheekbones.
“Well, they were kissing, and then, they ended up doing stuff, while she was…on top.” My voice trails off, but Ghost pulls me closer with his hand at the back of my head and kisses me. His insistent lips part mine, sending wild tremors along my nerve endings. The world is gone, with only the two of us left, and we’re floating through the infinite expanse of what we feel.
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