I was suddenly very aware that even if he wasn’t alive, he was a man, and he was in my bedroom. And he’d just paid me the best compliment I’d ever received.
“So”—I paused and made a conscious effort to lower the pitch of my voice—“is there a reason for your visit?”
Jack shrugged. “I wanted to take advantage of human companionship while I had it, unless, of course, you find my presence intrusive?”
Weighing his words, I tried to decide if it did feel intrusive. If he were alive, he would probably fall into the creepy-stalker category. Since he was a rip, did that make him more guardian angel?
“No, it’s all good.” I walked back to sit on the edge of the bed, not trusting my knees. Jack was a grown man. Who happened to be dead. I needed to pull it together.
“To have gone for so long without anyone to talk to,” Jack said in a voice so sweet it would turn vinegar to sugar, “how lucky am I that my first conversation is with someone like you?”
Not an angel.
I fought the urge to fan myself.
“Um … thank you?”
“You’re welcome.” He fingered the chain on his pocket watch, the upward pull of his suppressed smile barely noticeable.
I couldn’t even manage a normal social exchange with a dead guy.
“Em?” Dru knocked on my door.
Feeling like I’d been caught doing something naughty, I jumped up from the bed. “Yes?”
“Who are you talking to?”
“No one, just … oomph—” I backed away from Jack and managed to trip over my ottoman in the process. “I was reading out loud.”
“Open the door. I want to show you the baby bedding I bought.”
“Sure, just a sec.” Staring at the doorknob, I realized I hadn’t locked it. It didn’t really matter if Dru came in or not because she wouldn’t be able to see Jack. But the thought of trying to have a conversation with her while he stood next to me … no way.
I scrambled to my feet and turned to tell him he needed to disappear.
He was already gone.
In addition to bedding, Dru purchased possibly every article of gender-neutral baby clothing in the entire town of Ivy Springs. She sorted it into groups on the four-poster king-sized bed she shared with my brother, and the cream lace coverlet was completely hidden underneath the piles.
“Emerson, I wanted to apologize,” Dru said, folding up a tiny T-shirt imprinted with the words SPIT HAPPENS.
“For what?”
“Running you off when Thomas and I, uh, celebrated our pregnancy news.” Her face turned the same tomato red as the bedroom walls. Mine grew hot, and probably the same color as hers. I welcomed the cool breeze flowing through the open window and stirring the pale window sheers. Dru cleared her throat and continued. “We could’ve been a little more discreet.”
“It’s okay,” I mumbled, ducking my head and kneeling to retrieve a tiny sock that had escaped to the hardwood floor.
“No, it isn’t. This is your home, and you should feel comfortable in it.”
“I do.” I smiled up at her. “You and Thomas are going to be wonderful parents. And I know how long you’ve … wanted a baby.”
Dru rubbed her midsection as tears formed in her eyes. I stood and focused intently on finding the mate for the sock in the pile of clothes on the bed. According to Thomas, they’d started talking about babies on their honeymoon. It was never openly discussed, but I knew the past few years had been filled with disappointment.
“You know,” she said softly, her voice trembling, “we decided we’re going to name the baby after your mom or dad. Clarissa if it’s a girl, Sean if it’s a boy.”
I would not cry. I just wouldn’t. “I know they’d love that,” I whispered. “I mean, I know they would’ve loved that.”
“So, it’s okay with you?” Dru asked, removing her hand from her stomach and picking up a chenille blanket.