Haunt Me Read Free Page B

and campfire stories. We’re already contributing to the madness enough with the ‘haunted’ town idea.”
    With a flounce, Jock threw her arms up. “We have to do something . And I’m not going to just sit around.” She blew out of the room with the same force she’d entered it.
    Justin and his brother stared after her, but Nathaniel was the first to speak. “Five bucks says she’s going to go rope the rest of the town into her scheme.”
    “Crap.” After grabbing his keys, Justin headed out the door. He needed a plan—a real one. A plan that didn’t have anything to do with ghosts. The neighborly thing to do would include checking on MacKenzie Dillon, right?
    Ten minutes after ordering his sister back to college, Justin followed the winding driveway to Mac’s house and spotted her SUV parked in the carport.
    So, she’s home.
    The wrought iron gates stood wide, perpetually open, with ivy entwined through the bars and broken hinges. Weathered pathway stones peeked out from the too-tall grass—although one stuck up jaggedly, half-sunk into the earth and cracked right through the middle. Vegetation obscured the center of the yard—he could identify wisteria, honeysuckle, trumpets, hydrangea, and Dutchman’s-pipe. If he were a gambling man, he would lay even odds a structure could hide in the center of all that growth. Maybe even the outdoor gazebo that haunted his thoughts.
    “Can I help you?” MacKenzie Dillon’s voice jerked him out of planning mode, and he turned to find the woman on the porch. Sweat gleamed on her arms and dampened the thin, cotton tank top hugging her slender curves. Just like the first time he met her, she wore a pair of hip-hugging denim shorts that emphasized her long, golden legs.
    “I wanted to stop by and see how you were getting along.”
    Doubt gleamed in those hazel eyes, hardening them into chipped marble, and her luscious, pink lips compressed into a thin line. “Hmm.”
    “You have a real issue with trusting people, don’t you?” He grinned at her.
    “I’m sorry, was I being rude to the man who dropped in uninvited for the second time in a week?” She folded her arms. “Or maybe I’m just understandably cautious about strangers who send their attorneys with ridiculously high offers to buy my home and then show up after I’ve turned down not one, not two—but three such attempts?”
    “Yes, guilty. I asked my attorney to make you an offer, but right now I really am only trying to be neighborly.” Maybe a hat-in-hand mea culpa would soften her frosty exterior. “I had the pleasure of meeting your aunt and she was interested in selling to me, but it was never the right time. And I should have told you the last time I was here that I was sorry to hear she passed away.”
    The hard line between her eyebrows relaxed fractionally. “Thank you. But I don’t want to sell, so I’d appreciate it if you’d stop offering.”
    Disappointment fisted in his chest, but he wasn’t giving up. “Okay. Would you do me one favor, though?”
    “It depends on the favor.”
    Damn, she’s tough. He grinned. He liked tough . “If you change your mind, for any reason, call Clinton Pope first—he’s my attorney. We’ll say it’s an open-ended offer.”
    Easing off the pressure wasn’t a solution, but it could buy him some time. Time to get to know her, to convince her to participate—make her a partner. She was too wary of his motives as a stranger, but if he cultivated her trust, then maybe they could help each other. It wasn’t the most well-thought-out plan, but he was flying by the seat of his pants, and he wasn’t Jock, coming up with some harebrained scheme.
    “You seem like a nice guy, but I’m really busy with a deadline. Besides, I don’t want to sell. I like the place. I even kind of like the ghost.”
    Was she trying to be funny?
    “The Summerfield Haunting,” she explained. “Or Curse, or something. It’s a family legend.”
    Huh. So much for her not