Page 41 of The Haunting of Lockton

“Considering how I died in the same war?”

“Yeah.” The tips of my ears prickled. “Sorry.”

“Nothing compares to the real thing,” Alan said, returning his attention to the movie. “And in these movies, I get to see the victory the war brought. I get to see that it was all worth it.”

Worth it.I wouldn’t go that far. Too many lives had been lost in the war and in the Second World War that followed. But if it brought Alan a sense of peace to believe his sacrifice had been for some greater good, then I wouldn’t take that away from him.

Leaving him to his movie, I continued making lunch. Since I had a night tour, Val had scheduled me for a shorter day shift, so I didn’t have to be at work until one o’clock.

Alan materialized beside me. His body was slightly transparent for a moment before solidifying. As usual, he worethe same clothes he’d died in, though fortunately, the clothing was unsoiled. No blood or signs of his death. “What’s for lunch?”

“Barbeque chicken on a brioche bun and sweet potato fries.”

He softly groaned. “That sounds incredible. How unfair it is that I can’t taste it.”

My heart squeezed. “I’ll remember that for next Halloween.”

Alan only got one day a year to remember what it was like to be alive. For that one day, he could pretend he was an ordinary nineteen-year-old and not the century-old soldier who’d tragically lost his life in a war he shouldn’t have even had to fight in. Every year, I dedicated the entire day to him.

“This last one was incredible,” he said with a smile. “You made it special for me.”

I had woken early Halloween morning before the sun came up and made a breakfast fit for a king. Or for a ghost who, for that one day, could eat like one. We had then gone to town and shopped, grabbed sweet treats at the bakery, and then popped into the diner for lunch, where he’d gorged himself on a massive bacon cheeseburger and a strawberry milkshake. He had wanted to go to the movie theater after that, and I’d bought him a large bucket of buttery popcorn and three boxes of candy.

He’d been worth every second of it.

“Do you remember the Halloween when Mom baked so many cookies and pies that they covered the table, the counters, and the coffee table in the living room?” Alan’s smile was a bit sad. “She wanted me to try one of everything.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

She had made the day special for him too. Before she’d gotten too sick anyway. It was easier to talk about her as each day passed. We celebrated those memories now instead of letting the sadness of her absence taint them.

“Is Skyler Knox busy today?” Alan asked.

“Huh?”

“You were blushing like a schoolgirl yesterday morning while messaging him. You’ve barely looked at your phone today.”

“I wasn’t blushing,” I denied.

“You weresoblushing. And grinning from ear to ear.” Alan stared longingly at the air fryer as I removed the basket of sweet potato fries. “Did the investigation not go well last night?”

“It went fine.” My irritation at Skyler prickled in my chest again. I knew I was overreacting. Of course making money was important. But him seeing the ghosts as his cash cow hadn’t sat well with me.

“Then why are you angry?” Alan asked.

One look at him gave me my answer. I was protective of Alan and sympathized with other ghosts because of it. I hated the thought of them being exploited. Like a slap in their face when they’d already been beaten down.

Sigh.

I focused harder than necessary on throwing together the rest of my lunch, not wanting my thoughts to keep drifting to a certain gray-eyed hunk with a heart-melting smile. When I sat at the table to eat, my phone slid across the surface and lightly bumped my plate.

Alan winked before returning to the living room to watch his gory war movie. Sneaky, meddling ghost.

I shoved a sweet potato fry into my mouth before snatching up my phone and tapping the screen. I stopped chewing when I saw a text. It had been sent two hours ago.

Skyler:Morning. Are we cool?

And just like that, my irritation faded. Mostly. With my stomach in anxious knots, I typed back a response.