Double Dating with the Dead by Karen Kelley (best fiction novels to read .txt) 📗

only her mother could concoct something that stunk as bad as that gris-gris.

After turning on the water, she added a large dollop of tropical-scented bubble bath. Coconut and mangos soon blocked the odor of garlic.

She stripped out of her grungy clothes and climbed into the claw-footed bathtub. This is nice, she thought, sliding down until her shoulders were submerged in bubbles. Heavenly….

Her nose twitched as a new aroma invaded the room, and it wasn’t the smelly amulet or her tropical-scented bubbles.

Leather?

She held her breath and waited to see what was about to happen. Usually, an odd or different smell meant only one thing.

Excitement shimmied up and down her spine as a mist began to rise, different from the steam coming from her bath. It settled comfortably on the counter by the sink.

A spirit! She knew it.

I’m going to win the bet! I’m going to win the bet. The words singsonged inside her head. She started to sit up.

Oops, not a good idea.

Coconut-and mango-scented bubbles were not on her fashion list. It didn’t matter. Selena was quite content to lie back and wallow in her victory. She bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

Calm down.

She didn’t want to scare the spirit away before Trent had a chance to see it. Not that he would get the chance to see it while she was in the bathtub, but once she was dressed—look out!

The vapor grew thicker, taking on the shape of a lanky cowboy as he became more solid. Selena guessed him to be in his early thirties. Not bad looking: blondish hair, strong chin.

With one finger, he pushed up the brim of his cowboy hat and looked into the fogged mirror. “You know, I’ve aged pretty good.” He turned toward Selena. “Wesley Cole, ma’am, at your service.” He crossed his arms in front of him and leaned against the counter, a roguish grin on his face.

Chapter 3

Selena knew her smile was smug. But just knowing there was a spirit inhabiting the hotel was, well…. Her smile widened. The feeling was priceless.

“Hello, Mr. Cole.”

“You can call me Wesley, ma’am.”

“Wesley it is.”

His gaze slowly moved over her. She frowned. Could he see past the bubbles? An uncomfortable heat spread over her as something occurred to her: the older the spirit, the stronger their powers.

Wesley looked like a gunslinger straight from an old west movie. It was probably too much to hope that he might be an actor who’d died during the shooting of a film and not a gunfight. No, she had a feeling he was a real-life—or in this case a real-dead—cowboy, probably from the last century.

So maybe he could see past the bubbles. She grabbed the towel and brought it in front of her. “You could’ve introduced yourself at a more appropriate time.” She scowled to get her point across. Just because a person died didn’t mean their manners were buried with them.

He leaned against the wall. Or at least he had the appearance of leaning against the wall. A spirit didn’t actually have substance.

“But, darlin’, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen a woman as beautiful as you, and I just couldn’t help myself.” His devilish smile said it all. The man was a flirt. When he was alive, he’d probably had a whole string of silly females lusting after him.

It might not be so easy to convince Wesley that he should make himself known to Trent. Ghosts could be quite stubborn sometimes. She wondered what he would want in return. Before she could ask, a soft pink light began to glow in the corner.

Another ghost. Technically, she needed only one. Two of them usually meant trouble when they put their heads together. Not a great situation.

Okay, she could handle two of them. No problem.

But did it have to be while she was taking a bath?

Uh-oh, the pretty pink light of only a moment ago was beginning to shimmer dark red. This one wasn’t happy. A deep red glowing light was not a good sign. And it didn’t help that the water in the tub had started to cool considerably. Another bad sign.

“Ahh, Dixie, can’t you just appear like any normal ghost?” Wesley asked, shoving his hat a notch higher on his forehead and frowning at the red light.

The light began to take shape, and a young woman appeared. She wore a flaming red dress trimmed in black ruffles. The hem fell just past her knees. A matching black feather adorned her blond hair.

“Unlike you, I like to make a statement when I arrive. It’s not like we have a reason to show ourselves these days.” She raised a haughty eyebrow, then turned to Selena. “I’m Dixie Raye. Why’d you wake us? I was having the most sensuous dream before you and that man arrived.” She sighed loudly. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had sex?”

You and me both, Selena wanted to tell her, but decided to ignore her comment about sex and introduced herself instead. “Hello, Dixie. I’m Selena James—”

“She didn’t wake us up,” Wesley interrupted. “I told you, it was the fella yelling at the top of his lungs. Then that odd-looking woman with the orange hair showed up cursing him. A whole bunch of people came next and started stirring up all the dust.”

“I saw them. You don’t have to go into a long, boring explanation.” Dixie frowned. “What I want to know is why are we in the bathing room?”

Wesley sighed and shook his head. “Because she’s the only one who can hear or see us. And everyone has left except her and the fella.”

Dixie grinned. “He jumped when I pinched him. I’d say he felt my presence just fine.” She chuckled at her little prank.

Great, Dixie pinched Trent, but Selena had gotten the blame. Thanks for nothing.

“You know, it was your shenanigans that got us killed in the first place,” he reminded her.

Dixie snapped open a feathered fan that suddenly appeared in her hand and began