Page 7 of Ghost of a Chance

T he Airbnb looked creepy AF as Kirsty pulled into the driveway on Monday. She’d had the weekend to reread all of Aunt Dot’s books and get ready for the haunted textbook. In reality, a lifetime wouldn’t have been enough time.

She rolled her eyes as she sat there imagining the joy lighting up on Gia’s face as she found the perfect background for some ghostly-themed social media posts.

Being all into the creepy aesthetic was one thing but she couldn’t do real haunted houses.

Like if there were creaking stairs and breezes she couldn’t explain…

she’d want to bolt but honestly those things would probably be perfect for her fake abilities.

Resting her head on the steering wheel, she moaned.

This right here .

This was why she stayed home in her tiny office with her fall rain scented candles wearing her favorite once black, now gray-from-so-many-washings sweatpants and a variety of different long-sleeved tees with sarcastic sayings on them.

Home was safe. And home didn’t look like it had seen a few murders.

Normally, a bit of darkness and rain was her sweet spot when it came to setting the scene in her books, and honestly also for her internal life.

But this…wet, muddy, cold. And a house that looked more haunted than that freaking textbook. She was in for a long four weeks.

Ugh, there was never an excuse to whine. Not even now.

She was here. And maybe on the verge of fixing her writer’s block. That was the end of her bitching internally about it. Maybe. Time to be K.L. and leave invisible Kirsty.

The door opened and the largest, shaggiest dog she’d ever seen bounded outside, tugging someone behind him.

Jasper .

As soon as Jasper hit the first step, he stumbled and took a huge leap down the other three as the dog bolted for a maple tree that still had a fair amount of leaves on its branches. Jasper landed solidly. She admired his athleticism.

As much as she didn’t want to watch him, her eyes were drawn to his long legs and those faded jeans that clung to his surprisingly taut butt as he chatted to the dog. He was too far away for her to hear what he was saying, but his tone was firm and patient.

He wore a hoodie and his black hair was more like it had been the night of the Dead Boys concert. Falling around his face and neck. It was wet from the rain, but Jasper didn’t seem to be bothered by it.

He pushed his hair back from his forehead, mussing it, which just made her fingers itch to touch him. There was a rugged, outdoorsy element to him. No more Mr. Khakis from the TV studio.

Sitting in her car, she was so tempted to put it in Reverse, but she’d already promised—and broken said promise—that she’d stop thinking about being back home.

She wished she could say that watching him didn’t make her hot, reminding her of what he felt like under her that night on his couch, when his mouth and body had driven her slowly out of her mind…

She reached for the serviceable black backpack that her mom had bought her senior year of high school, that yes, she still used.

That Jansport had been built to last. It still had patches she’d sewn on senior year.

Two Scott Pilgrim vs. The World ones and then a few she’d added over the years.

Most recently, she picked up a Dead Boys one off Etsy and would add that when she got home.

Tearing herself from admiring Jasper, she got out of the car. Plonking her Doc Martens straight into a puddle. The muddy water splashed up her leg, hitting her calf. She shouldn’t have been surprised when she felt the nudge of wet fur against the leg that was still on the edge of the puddle.

“Want a hand with your stuff?” His voice was low and gravelly, muffled by the rainfall and the barrier of her open car door. The tone was hesitant like he didn’t want to incur her wrath again.

She’d been a bit…let’s call it out of sorts when she was first cornered into doing this. He was partially to blame, but Kirsty could have said no. But being an author meant being a publicity whore even though she hated the spotlight, talking about herself, and engaging with strangers.

“That’d be great. I have a suitcase in the trunk and two writing bags.”

“What’s in a writing bag?” he asked, with slightly less hesitation this time.

She tried to get out of the car but the dog was looking up at her, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. With a heavy sigh, because she couldn’t resist those big eyes, she held her hand out. He sniffed, then licked it and pushed his nuzzle under her hand. She scratched his nose.

“Who’s this?”

“Chewie.”

“ Star Wars , right?” Her mom was a massive fan of the original trilogy and had raised her on the prequels.

She’d even dipped her hand to writing some Reylo fanfic under a pseudonym, envisioning them as a modern Scully and Mulder both trying to prove/disprove the actual existence of the Force throughout the galaxy at her mom’s suggestion.

Mostly she’d just wanted to explore that crazy sexual tension they’d had in The Last Jedi .

Even though she was still mad—well, sort of—with Jasper and didn’t want to have anything in common with him, it felt good to know they’d at least have something to talk about besides music and his troublesome ghost.

“Yeah, I know. Nerd, right?”

He looked like a jock despite his unruly hair. She knew he had a lean muscled body under the hoodie. There was no way anyone would ever call him a nerd to his face. “Don’t diss my fandom.”

“Cool. So you’re into Reylo, right?”

“Who isn’t? But I’m a big fan of the OGs.”

“Han and Leia?”

“Definitely. What about you?” she asked, aware that this wasn’t what she’d intended to do. Get in, fake-solve the ghost problem and get out.

“Big fan of Obi Wan in the prequels and I like The Mandalorian .”

As if he was listening to their conversation and satisfied with her level of knowledge, Chewie finally settled down, taking his head off her boot. She eased her way around the dog. Jasper was already waiting for her, his biceps bulging under his hoodie while he hoisted her heavy bags with ease.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Determined to give herself a fresh start. She was armed with knowledge…and as her mom always said knowledge was half the battle.

Gia stepped out onto the porch. “Great, you’re here.”

Kirsty waved at her and Gia’s head tipped slightly toward Jasper as if asking what that was about. Kirsty would give her a debrief when they were alone. Talking to Gia always made it easier for her to process her little problems.

Though there was nothing little about Jasper. Jasper pulled Chewie back and turned to the other woman. “The house has a study that I think will be perfect for a séance.”

Ugh.

Just ugh.

That was all she had when faced with Gia’s gold-blond hair. Sometime in the last two days her friend had dyed the tips orange and black. No doubt for Halloween, which was at the end of the month.

“Super.” Not bothering to hide her sarcasm.

Good thing she’d packed the séance book that her mom had from her own teenage years. In her mystery series, she always put a séance in for her sleuth to contact the dead. Readers really loved it, and it was a great way to move the plot forward by bringing suspects onto the page.

Kirsty slung her backpack over one shoulder, her tote bag full of Dot’s books hanging off the other. Jasper forged ahead with Chewie at his side with her duffle and rolling case.

He grunted as he put it on top of the luggage. “I guess that’s your arm workout.”

She couldn’t help her smile as she followed him toward the house. Maybe she’d linger a few days before she “freed” the ghost. Maybe . Just to see if she and Jasper could pick up where they left off.

* * *

How was it possible for her to look even cuter today?

It was hard for Jasper to keep his mind on the job, but that was the only reason they were here. He wanted to show her that he wasn’t the flake she probably believed him to be after everything that had gone between them.

They were officially coworkers now. Not to mention she was his last hope for finally having a normal life. Reigniting their fling could put that in jeopardy.

Don’t fuck this up.

His dog Chewie was an old English sheepdog, big and hairy and friendly as hell but not conducive to filming, so Jasper got him settled in the kitchen and then closed the door.

He’d had Chewie at a dog sitter the night of the Dead Boys concert.

He and Dan got the first shot set up while she and Gia went upstairs to unpack.

With his shaggy hair, Iron Man–trimmed beard and mustache and baggy clothes Dan gave off an I-might-care vibe. He was about ten years older than Jasper and a tech whiz when it came to capturing shots.

Base of operations would be in the dining room because of the large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the rain-drenched wooded area behind the house.

The dining room had a large chandelier over a table that would easily seat twelve.

There were heavy wood chairs with faded and worn velvet padded seats.

On the sideboard there were two candelabras with a layer of dust covering the melted candles. Frankly, everything about this place was creepy AF. Which almost made him chuckle. Paul didn’t like haunted houses. Served the bastard right for haunting him for so long.

Gia came in later with Kirsty behind her. “It would be more atmospheric if this house had a library wall or something. Let me check with the library on campus. Maybe we can get permission to film in there if this doesn’t capture the feeling enough.”

“Great,” Kirsty responded without much enthusiasm. Dan gave her a lapel mic.

“Are we filming now?”

“Might as well. I want to get as much footage as I can,” Dan said.

“I’m not really made up.”

“That’s fine. It’s better if you’re just yourself,” Dan said.

“You look great.” Jasper couldn’t help telling her.

“Thanks. You too.”

He smiled because she made him feel good.