Page 2 of The Handyman and The Drama Queen (Myths, Legends, and Southern Charm #1)

Ezra

AKA The Drama Queen

He was so weird.

“We’re not talking about eight inches I can’t touch. It’s just mean.” And presumptuous since it’d sounded like I would’ve been able to play with it if I’d been, well, alive.

Corporeal at the very least.

Ugh. Walking without being able to stomp or shuffle wasn’t nearly as satisfying.

“Just because you can’t touch it doesn’t mean I can’t show it off.” My handyman smirked as I rolled my eyes. “Think of it as phone sex with great visuals.”

“You’re so weird.” It seemed like he kept forgetting I was dead, so I walked through the front door to remind him. It was less bizarre than when I’d first done it, but it was a big reminder about the not-alive thing.

When he opened it to follow me, I gestured at myself. “Dead here. Remember?”

“It’s hard to forget.” He shrugged as he studied me and frowned. “I’ve never seen a ghost that looks quite as interesting as you do. Or one that died without underwear on. I think that’s why moms used to say to make sure you had clean underwear on when you went out.”

For fuck’s sake.

“First of all, how many ghosts have you met, and second of all, I haven’t been hard since I woke up dead. Or came to. Or surfaced. Whatever it’s called.” That hadn’t been the most frustrating part of being dead until he’d walked in.

Handyman’s head cocked. “I’ve never asked if ghosts got erections, but I think that’s probably more mental than anything else. You don’t need to breathe but you’re still doing it. At the very least, you’re used to inhaling so you can talk. Like I said, it’s probably mental.”

Was I breathing?

I couldn’t feel air but I really couldn’t feel much of anything.

“You’re not fixing the you’re so weird thing.” He was really calm, but every time he opened his mouth, he said the strangest things.

“Should I be trying?” It could’ve been sarcastic, but his tone was kind of dry, so it was hard to tell. “You’re not exactly boring yourself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He was so rude.

But he was hot.

And he could see me.

And he didn’t mind giving me attention.

Okay, so maybe he was only slightly rude.

“Dead and delusional. Got it.” Nodding to himself, he gestured toward the yard. “But that shouldn’t impact our walk. Unless you need to be more dramatic before we start?”

I changed my mind…he was rude.

“Thank you.” Ignoring his question, I started us around the side yard that had been my favorite when I’d been alive. “The property boundary on this side only goes about ten feet, but it’s the long side as you keep going.”

“The property used to be owned by an older widower who portioned the land up between his daughters when he died. It ended up being divided slightly weird because of where the original house was placed.” Pointing toward the woods beyond the property line, he stopped to make sure I could see where he was gesturing. “The other house was just beyond those oaks. It burned down when I was a kid. No one rebuilt it. I think the other descendants have forgotten they own the land.”

“I never saw anyone over here. I didn’t realize there used to be a house there.” Had the realtor mentioned it? “I think I was told that it was owned by some old guy? It was just a passing comment, though, maybe.”

But based on the recommendations from my realtor, nothing she said could be trusted.

“I can’t remember who that would be, but that side of the family moved out of town after they married too many humans.” Handyman shrugged like that was just a fact of life.

Wasn’t he human?

Were there a lot of them hanging around?

How was that a problem anywhere?

“Still not getting less weird.” I decided I didn’t care about the humans part when he grinned at me and brushed his hand casually over the front of his jeans. “God, you’re annoying.”

For some reason, he thought that was a compliment.

“Thanks.” His smile got wider for a moment before he got distracted as we made our way around the back of the house. “Does the property have any fruit trees?”

Hmm?

“Not that I noticed?” What had I noticed? “Um, that way through the trees it backs up to water. Things are moving in there, though, so don’t get too close.”

I didn’t even want to know why the weird shit in the swamp-looking area behind the house made him grin. Nope. So I ignored it. I was not going to give his strange behavior any attention.

What had we been talking about?

Oh.

“I didn’t have anyone do any kind of tree inspection, though. Not that it would’ve probably given me accurate information.” Clearly, that box thing couldn’t wait.

Some people were just idiots.

My handyman coughed, doing a terrible job of covering a laugh. “It’s not funny.”

Death by SpaghettiOs was a terrible thing.

“Well, if it wasn’t your kitchen, hunting for a socket for the air freshener would’ve done it.” He shrugged when I sighed. “It can’t be helped now, so let’s just make the best of it.”

“The best is boring. I just wander and get angrier and angrier.” The emotion wasn’t helping me feel better, though, so I was glad when he didn’t ask a stupid question like how I was feeling.

“I’m going to make sure to leave the TV on, and like I said, we’re going to poke around the house for a radio or anything like that.” Shifting closer to me as we wandered the yard that was a bit too empty, he looked thoughtful, like it was a real problem he wanted to solve.

He was right.

I needed fruit trees or something like that and I needed something to keep myself distracted until I could figure out a way to uncurse myself.

If he was right about the whole unfinished business and regret thing, I’d done this nonsense to myself.

“And I’ll ask around and see if I can figure out how to help you interact with the physical world more. At the very least, you should be able to change the TV channels or pull up a streaming channel. If Ansley’s uncle can do it, you should be able to as well. He’s a moron.”

Huh?

Was Ansley or the uncle the moron?

“Great-uncle or something like that, but whatever. Family trees are hard enough when everyone is either alive or dead.” My handyman seemed to enjoy being weird. “Do you want me to ask about the erection thing too or is that private?”

I’d have probably tripped over something and stabbed myself with a tree branch or had a garden-variety heart attack if I’d still been alive, but as it was, I just stopped and looked stupid. “What?”

He seemed to think it’d been a reasonable question based on the way his head cocked. “Too personal. Got it.”

The world seemed to have frozen in time but he managed to sigh. “Look. Sometimes we have to ask embarrassing questions about body parts. It’s just a fact of life. There’s no shame in making sure the plumbing is working right, and wouldn’t you be much happier to know one way or the other?”

He.

Body.

Plumbing.

“I’ve never heard anyone bring that up in conversation, but how many times have you talked about your relatives’ erections?” Thankfully he went on without my having to respond because I was still kind of broken. “It’s a fact of life thing. I’m just going to keep reiterating that because it seems like something you’re worried about.”

He wasn’t wrong but the conversation was fucking bananas.

“Information can only help here. You don’t want to live in limbo forever and not realize that one change would get you up and running again.” He shrugged and gave me a look like he didn’t want me to be stupidly stubborn. “Besides, I’m sure we can come up with a list of things that you want to know. It’ll be fine. Someone has to have a handbook on this shit.”

It wasn’t just him…it seemed the whole town was weird.

“You…okay, you’re saying that there are other ghosts in the area and…and you’re going to ask questions about my inability to get aroused?” There were probably other important pieces that would stand out later, but I was struggling to stick to the main ones.

“Yes and yes. But only if you’re okay with it. Limits are important even if you’re not technically alive any longer.” My handyman gestured toward my groin. “Besides, a lot of guys can’t get it up for a variety of reasons. So don’t feel bad about that. I’m generally a top, so it’s not a deal-breaker for me if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Okay, well, that had been something I’d been curious about but that wasn’t the point at the moment. “ I’m dead . I’m not supposed to be wondering about that.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You’re a gay guy or at the very least bi. You were wondering about that. Dead or alive, men don’t change that much. It’s like Diana’s family ghost. They live over by the post office.” Somehow Handyman Guy thought that was relevant. “She’d been a gossip for so long, being dead didn’t change anything. You can’t say a damned thing at all in Diana’s house without it somehow ending up all over town. It drives her mother insane from what mine says. I’ve never gone over there, though, so I don’t know firsthand.”

He knew secondhand because of more gossip.

Got it.

“Please don’t ask Diana’s family ghost about my erection issues. That’s a limit I can confidently put in place.” The rest was fuzzier.

“Deal. Only men and someone who I think would be a good resource and not just because they happen to be dead too.” My handyman thought he was being helpful and making sense…but I wasn’t so sure about that. “They’re a dime a dozen probably and just because they have a dick doesn’t mean they understand how they work.”

My nodding somehow made him think he could keep going. “My mother said that Annie over at the laundromat has cousins that live in an area with mostly humans, and her neighbors didn’t know how to have sex that led to babies. Everyone’s kind of puzzled about what they were actually doing, but whatever they were confused about has been cleared up because she’s pregnant with twins.”

How did he know that?

Gossip…some kind of interspecies and probably interstate gossip train.

“I think that’s the definition of overachieving.” It came out before I realized it was probably rude or insensitive.

My handyman laughed. “Yep. That was kind of my thought too. But it just goes to show you that having something doesn’t make you knowledgeable about it. So I will be careful.”

“Thank you.” Wait. “No. I mean, I don’t need you to do anything.”

It wasn’t like I needed it for anything.

Handyman Guy snorted. “Come on. Let’s keep walking and we’ll pretend you aren’t being stupid.”

Had I mentioned he was weird and rude?

“I thought you said limits should be respected.” But I wasn’t going to ask about that either.

“You didn’t give me a limit. You were nervous and pushing back to make yourself feel better.” His skeptical look and raised eyebrow said I was free to challenge him on that but it would be at my own peril. “There’s a difference.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” And I wasn’t sure how I’d argue it. I’d been vanilla in life and being dead hadn’t given me any new information on what he was talking about, so we were mostly out of my comfort zone.

“Is my trying to get information on how ghost erections work a limit you would like to discuss?” He managed to ask it so matter-of-factly, I almost forgot what we were talking about.

Limits.

And my dick.

“I…I shouldn’t tell you what to do.” For a variety of reasons. “I can’t control who you talk to. We just met.”

And I wasn’t alive.

And we weren’t dating.

Were we dating?

Ugh.

Being dead was so much more complicated than being alive…and that’d been a fucking mess.

“Then my being curious about hypothetical situations shouldn’t be an issue.” He shrugged, playing off how insane the conversation was. “I’m glad we got that worked out.”

We had?

“Hey, have you checked out the garage or the attic?” His change in subject was so abrupt I almost stopped walking again. “There has to be random stuff around here somewhere. I know the listing is going to say fully furnished but there’s no way this is ready for anyone to move in. I want to see what there is to make things easier for you.”

Stuff?

Oh. Stuff. Yes.

“Um, I wasn’t really in a thinking logically mood lately, so I don’t know the answer.” I thought I’d worded that well but Handyman Guy snorted. “I’ve decided that I’m not going to respond when you’re weird or rude.”

His grin made me think he’d taken that as a challenge. “Alright.”

Since he was probably being rude in some way and I’d given him fair warning, I didn’t need to respond to it. “Would you like to check the garage and I’ll see if I can poke my head in the attic.”

His snicker said he realized I was being literal about that. “Try standing on the dresser in your bedroom. I think that’ll give you enough height. Those ceilings aren’t that tall. Old houses around here are all built like that for some reason.”

“I was also thinking I could use the shelves in the linen closet like a ladder.” For some reason he gave me an odd look and shook his head, but honestly, with our conversation, he could’ve been planning when to tell me about the aliens that landed on the other side of town.

“Sounds like a plan.” He was still wearing an odd look as we got back to the house, but since it fell under weird or rude, I didn’t worry about that either.

He needed to learn that I was not going to be talked out of my decision, eight inches and a wicked grin or not.