Moving to her feet, she turned and managed a smile. Not only was he barefoot with his wet hair still curling around his face, but he was also wearing a pair of snug jeans and had left a dark shirt hanging open over his muscular chest. A very nice, smooth muscular chest. The kind you usually saw on underwear models.
Down girl.
“I’m kind of surprised you let me in,” she countered.
He walked past, shot her a grin, and began buttoning up his shirt. Thank goodness. “I told you I wasn’t mad. What’s up?”
Following his lead, she sat down and began fiddling with the papers she’d laid out for him. “You’re gonna think I’m really strange when you hear what I have to say, but…” She chewed at her bottom lip and leaned forward. “Can I ask you something?”
“Go for it.” He leaned forward too, so close the scent of soap teased her nostrils and threatened to scatter her thoughts again.
She pushed back, needing to clear herself of the distraction. “Have you … noticed anything odd about this house since you moved in?”
“Define odd.”
“Things moving on their own. Unnatural sounds or smells. Weird feelings you get in certain rooms. That kind of thing.”
Some of the twinkle dimmed in his eyes and his smile fell just enough to be noticeable. Ah ha! He had experienced weird stuff. Excitement sizzled through her veins, and she continued before he could answer.
“Have you seen anything, like a ghost? You have, haven’t you? I knew it!”
“Whoa. Hold on.” He shook his head. “I haven’t seen a ghost. I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“But—”
He held up his hand. “Maybe you should explain why you’re asking.”
Sucking in a deep breath, she tapped her finger on the stack of papers. “You should Google your house, man. It’s listed on a haunted places index, and you would not believe some of the messages people have posted on forums about it.”
His forehead crinkled as he considered the printouts. “You’re telling me this house is listed on a website, encouraging people to snoop around because they think it’s haunted?”
“Well … yeah.” Actually, she hadn’t thought about trespassers. “What did the realtor tell you when you bought the place?”
“I didn’t buy it.” Frowning, he picked up the paper sitting on top of the others. “I’m renting it, and the realtor didn’t say a damn thing about any of this.”
Oops.
“Have you caught anyone snooping around since you moved in?”
The dark circles under his eyes seemed more pronounced as he skimmed the story: the one about a group of teens who believed the house was haunted by two ghosts, one good, one evil, after their friend was thrown down the stairs during a ghost-hunting expedition. The front door had been locked, trapping them inside, until a gentle voice had whispered, “Hurry. The back door. It’s unlocked.”
A chill caused Spider to tremble, remembering the tale.
“No.” His voice was gruff now. “I’ve only been here a month. I don’t know, maybe it only happens around Hallowe’en.”
The calendar had just flipped over to April, so maybe he was right. “I’m sure people stay away if someone’s living here.”
His gaze lifted, amusement again in its depths. He set the papers back on the table. “So you think I’m haunted?”
It was an effort not to roll her eyes. She gestured upstairs. “The lady in your window, remember her? I saw her as clear as day, and ever since I saw her—”
Wait. She hadn’t meant to mention the strange things that had been happening to her since the night she’d glanced up and seen Miss Pretty Ghost in his window.
“What, Emma?”
He probably already thought she was cuckoo for cocoa puffs. Might as well tell him the rest. “First there were the sheets being ripped off me in bed. Then there was a weird message on my computer. The words help and danger kept scrolling across for absolutely no reason. No reason!” She sucked in a deep breath. “Last night, I ended up huddling with the boys in bed after—”
His brow lifted. “The boys?”
She flicked a dismissive hand. “The dogs and cat. Anyway, the TV in the living room kept turning off and on while I was trying to watch it, and after I changed into my jammies and went to bed—”
“Jammies?” He chuckled.
She ignored him. “A loud noise from the kitchen spooked the animals and then the bedroom door started opening and closing on its own, Noah. Opening. And closing. On. Its. Own! All of us were scared to death. It’s like the animals kept staring at something I couldn’t see and whining. I didn’t sleep a wink!”
She’d almost packed up her car and driven home, but she knew she’d be in for a round of twenty questions if she came dragging three animals into her house in the middle of the night. The only thing scarier than a ghost was her father intent on an inquisition.
The humour had fled Noah’s eyes, replaced by a brooding but otherwise unreadable expression. She pointed a finger at him. “You know what I’m talking about because a similar thing has happened to you, hasn’t it?”
Bam. Bam. Bam.
The loud knocking startled Spider so badly, she sprang to her feet and stared at the ceiling where it had seemed to originate while she considered making a run for the door. Noah’s eyes were wide as they locked with hers. Without saying a word, he darted for the stairs. She was right behind him.
The echo of their footsteps on the uncarpeted landing was the only sound in the otherwise silent house. Noah stopped outside the only room with an open door. His chest rose and fell with deep, heavy breaths.
She pushed to her tiptoes to look over his shoulder and glimpsed the edge of a messy bed.
Clunk.
The new sound drew Noah into the room. He flung open the closet door while Spider entered more cautiously, darting her gaze around every nook and cranny and seeing no one. A weight settled in her lungs that felt … unnatural, as if she’d suddenly walked into a sauna, only the temperature was rather cold up here.
She edged closer and spotted nothing unusual in the walk-in closet. “What was that, Noah?”
“I don’t know.”
She took a step closer and—
“Aieee!” The jab of something in the middle of her back shoved her forwards and into Noah. They tumbled into the closet together in a mash of tangled limbs, Noah’s weight cushioning her fall from beneath.
The door slammed shut behind them, flooding the room with near-darkness.
“Noah!”
“Are you okay?”
“Someone pushed me!”
“Are you hurt?” he demanded in a firm, but panicked voice.
She shook her head.
“Emma?” He practically shouted.
“I’m fine. You?”
“Fine.”
He pushed up and against her, and it took serious effort to uncurl her hands from his hard biceps to let him go. Fear clawed at her insides as he shoved her away and frantically rattled the doorknob. She reached a hand around and massaged her back. What had shoved her so hard that she still