Abby's Christmas Spirit Read Free Page A

females on the team and truthfully no one goofed around when they were actually filming. It was too time consuming and costly. “Are you sure it’s a woman?”
    “Oh, most definitely. She has long dark hair and a rack that has me pushing replay even as we speak.”
    Nice. “I wonder who she is?”
    “How the frick should I know? I say you go ask her. Do you want some back up? I could question her if you’d like.”
    Darius rolled his eyes. It wasn’t like Trent to be a cat-caller. She must be seriously hot. “I think I can handle it, thanks.”
    “Give her my number while you’re at it.”
    “Trent, she’s breaking and entering in an empty house. She’s disabling our cameras. I don’t think she’s exactly right in the head.” He started towards the steps. “Alright, I’m heading up. If the camera in the bedroom isn’t back on in ten, come on up to the house.”
    Chances were, their little visitor had seen their Ghost Tracker van and was looking for a thrill, but there was no reason not to exercise a little caution.
    Darius would send her packing, maybe offer her a T-shirt with the show’s logo. He could use her to his advantage by having her spread the word around town that the episode would be airing in February and the house would up for sale right afterwards.
    All those business-like and logical thoughts flew completely out of his head when he reached the top of the stairs and shone his flashlight around to get his bearings.
    The beam of light landed on a woman standing in the doorframe of the master bedroom.
    Not just any woman.
    His woman.
    The one in his dreams.
    Darius swallowed hard, frozen at the top of the stairs. She was even more beautiful in person than in the haziness of his nighttime visions. Her hair was long, dark, wavy, parted in the middle, flowing past her shoulders, thick and exotic. Her eyes were dark and wide, her lips bee stung plump. Her cheekbones were high and her skin looked pale in the feeble light of his flashlight. She was wearing slim fitting black jeans, boots that went to her knees, and a loose, slouchy shirt of undetermined color with a scarf wrapped around her neck.
    He was afraid to move, afraid that if he took a step towards her he would wake up. That this was a dream. But it didn’t feel like a dream at all. It felt completely real, the cold of the house seeping into his bones and the static from his mic going in and out. Trent had seen her too, and never in his life had a dream felt this real.
    Reassured that he was in fact awake, Darius moved forward, the light trained on her face. God, he could not get over how gorgeous she was. That she existed.
    “Would you mind moving that light out of my eyes?” she asked, her voice feminine and graceful but with a bite of irritation.
    Darius dropped the angle of the beam to the ground immediately. Of course he finally met the woman he had thought was just a fantasy he’d conjured and he was blinding her. “Sorry. Can I… help you?” He wasn’t sure what else to say.
    “Yes. If you could turn on the heat in the house, I’d appreciate it.”
    “Uh.” Darius frowned. Why the hell would she expect him to do that? “Can I ask what you’re doing here?”
    “I’m squatting.”
    The girl of his dreams was apparently insane. Somehow that seemed fitting. “You can’t do that. You can’t stay here.”
    “Sure I can. I have to say I wasn’t expecting the owner to show up though. You are the owner, right?”
    He nodded. “I’m Darius Damiano. And you are?”
    “Abigail Murphy. This house belonged to my grandmother, then my sister until you forced her to sell it.”
    Oh. My. God. How was it possible that he’d been dreaming about one of the Cuttersville witch sisters? The youngest one, by process of elimination. Which made her the kid who’d been bouncing on the sofa ten plus years ago. The one who had known his name.
    She wasn’t insane.
    He was.
    Or maybe they both were.
    Abby couldn’t see Darius’s expression