Free The Haunting of Ashton David by Gina Watson Page A

and kisses every few feet.
    “Are you hungry?” She asked.
    “I am.”
    “I could cook something.”
    “I’d like that. I love your BLT sandwiches.”
    They stepped to the porch. “One BLT sandwich coming right up.”
    She advanced toward the door, Turning back to see that he was following, she was overcome with sorrow at what she saw. He’d done a one-hundred-eighty- degree turn. His face was hard. He’d aged ten years in the amount of time it had taken to walk the few paces across the porch. His grave demeanor was evidenced in his defeated body language too.
    “I think I’ll take it out here if you don’t mind.”
    She gathered his hands in hers. “Sit with me in the kitchen while I cook.” She pulled him along and he let her.
    She prepared peppermint tea and placed a cup in his hands. She waited until he sipped before she began preparations on the sandwiches.
    Deep in concentration so as not to be popped by hot bacon, she was startled to hear his grave voice lacking intonation close to her ear.
    “He’s here.”
    She whirled around. “Who?”
    “My father.”
    She stood stark straight at his words. His father had been dead for over ten years. She pulled the pan from the burner and let it rest before following behind him down the hallway.
    “Ashton?”
    He wouldn’t turn around so she followed him quietly into the den. He sat on the old worn leather couch with his head in his hands, pulling at his hair so hard that pieces of it fell to the ground.
    Kneeling between his legs, she looked up into his tormented face. “Ashton?”
    His wide green eyes pleaded for her to save him. “What is it?”
    “He’s not happy.” He rubbed his eyes with his palms. His voice was pained.
    “What’s he saying?”
    “He smells you on me. I’ve desecrated his memory. He doesn’t want us to be together because your father filed the report.” A painful grimace had his hands clutching his ears. “That song, he won’t quit playing that song. Over and over, louder and louder.”
    She didn’t know what to do so she relied on instinct. Playing a jazz artist on the CD player, she then pulled Ashton out of his defensive position on the couch. They swayed to the music, dancing. Cheek to cheek she said, “Tell him you’re happy.” She remembered his father—had good memories of him. He’d been a good dad to his children and a close friend of her father’s.
    “Tell him I love you and that you love me.”
    They danced, his hold on her almost painful. The way he’d lost his mother had been tragic, but to then lose his father in the same year was devastating. After being charged with vehicular manslaughter and sentenced for the murder of his wife and the driver of the other car, Mr. David hung himself while in prison. Ashton had been only seventeen.
    “Tell him you plan to live at peace. You can do that here, while you take care of his legacy, or you can live elsewhere.”
    Harmony didn’t believe in ghosts per se, but she did believe Ashton was extremely tormented by the horrific events leading to the deaths of his mother and father.
    They danced to another song, and then another before he began to get restless.
    “Hungry?”
    “Yeah.”
    She pulled him by the hand back into the kitchen and sat him at the counter, bestowing a kiss to his lips before pulling items from the fridge to prepare his dinner.
    She held the warm teakettle over his abandoned bowl from earlier. “Tea?”
    “Please.”
    She filled the cup while watching tendrils of steam curl around the edge.
    “Thank you for caring for me.”
    “I’ll expect this same level of treatment from you one day when I have the icky wicked flu or something equally awful.”
    His hand covered hers. “I’ll be there.”
    She smiled. “I believe you.”
    ***
    After dinner they curled up on his bed to watch a movie.
    “What do you want to watch?” He asked.
    “Do you have The Breakfast Club?”
    He chuckled, “You know I do.”
    “Great! Cue it up. I’m