Oleander House: Bay City Paranormal Investigations, Book 1

almostmanifestation the previous day.
“If you are here,” Sam began, heart hammering, “show us a sign of your— Christ!”
Sam stumbled forward, regained his footing and whirled around, wildly scanning the room for whatever it was that had run into him. All he saw was Bo, looking sheepish.
“Sorry,” Bo said. “I guess I tripped over something. You okay?”
Sam stared, relief and annoyance warring for domination of his emotions. Annoyance won.
“Fuck, Bo, I thought…” Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Never mind. I’m fine. No harm done.”
Bo nodded and went back to taking pictures. But Sam saw the slight smile curling his lips. Damn, he fucking did that on purpose. For a second, Sam wanted badly to throw Bo against the wall and beat him bloody. Or kiss him until his defenses crumbled and he begged Sam to take him. Sam wasn’t sure which was the stronger urge, or if they were really all that different in the end.
A chill trailed cold fingers down Sam’s back. He sucked in a sharp breath. The sudden sense of dread was nearly overpowering. It was all he could do to hold the camera steady. Resisting the urge to jump away from the imagined nightmare behind him, Sam turned in a slow circle, capturing every part of the dim room.
“Bo,” he said, “get some stills of this area. Quick.”
Bo did it without question, the flashes of light blinding in the gloom. “What was it? Same as yesterday?”
“Not exactly. Just a feeling, really.” Sam leaned against the wooden table, shaking slightly. “I didn’t see anything, but I figured it was worth checking out more closely.”
“Good thinking.” Bo snapped one more shot, then lowered the camera. “Ready to go on to the outdoor kitchen?”
“Yep.” Sam gestured toward the door. “After you.”
Bo lifted an eyebrow, but preceded Sam out the door without a word. Sam watched Bo’s ass as he walked, not bothering to hide it since Bo was clearly expecting it. But his heart wasn’t in it this time. All he could think of was the inexplicable feeling that he’d nearly caused something to manifest in the washhouse. Why he should feel that he himself did it rather than it being a response to the carefully thought-out questions, he couldn’t say.
That can’t be right, Sam thought uneasily, even as a voice inside him whispered that it was more true than he wanted to contemplate. It’s not me. It’s this place. Something about this place.
By the time they finished investigating the old kitchen, he almost had himself convinced.
Chapter Ten
    Back inside the house, Sam poured a big glass of lemonade and sat sipping it on the upstairs porch while he waited for Bo to finish showering. He wondered what Bo would think if he knew Sam had offered to wait just so he could savor the scent of Bo’s skin in the lingering steam.
    Bo came wandering onto the porch about fifteen minutes later with a towel around his hips, wet hair dripping down his back and shoulders. “I’m done, it’s all yours.”
    “Thanks,” Sam choked out, trying with limited success to keep his attention focused on Bo’s face.
Bo grinned, clearly well aware of how his nearnakedness affected Sam. Bastard, Sam thought irritably, fighting down the contradictory urge to laugh at Bo’s blatant flirting. He wished the man would pick a mood and stick with it. The way Bo flitted from uncomfortable to angry to playful teasing made Sam dizzy.
“See you at dinner,” Bo said, turning to go back inside. “Cecile got some jumbo shrimp at the market down the road. I’m going to fry them and make some coleslaw and hushpuppies.”
“Sounds great,” Sam answered, stomach already rumbling in anticipation.
Bo smiled over his shoulder as he sauntered into the parlor. Sam tried to tell himself that Bo did not put an extra slink into his walk. It didn’t work. He knew Bo had come out to the porch half-naked and purposefully made his movements even sexier than usual, just to throw Sam off balance.
“Fucking tease,” Sam muttered as he gathered clean clothes and hurried into the bathroom. “Well, it’s not gonna work, you asshole. You’re not gonna get to me.”
He kept repeating that to himself right up until he came all over the shower curtain.
    Dinner was an animated affair, everyone talking at once about the pictures that morning and what they hoped they might find from the afternoon’s investigation. Bo’s mood remained infuriatingly mercurial, cool one moment and hot the next.