Free The Ghost and The Graveyard (The Monk's Hill Witch) by Genevieve Jack

morning hours. In that space between sleep and awake, I was running through the cemetery. Logan was up ahead, calling for me. He needed help. He needed me. But something was behind me, at my heels with panting breath and heavy footsteps. Just before I reached Logan, a hand gripped my shoulder. I twisted my head around. Rick was behind me, naked and panting. His eyes were black as coal. He tackled me under the elm tree where we’d had lunch and took me from behind, sliding into me and driving his hips home.
    It might have been a scary dream, but it wasn’t. I had the overwhelming feeling that I’d wanted Rick to catch me all along. That we were two pieces of a puzzle, fitting together in a way that was right.
    Then I woke up.
    Logan had made me coffee and an omelet. It was steaming hot when I reached the kitchen. Either he had amazing timing or, more likely, had watched me shower and dress. As much as it should have bothered me, I wasn’t angry. But I had to quell a pang of guilt sitting in my kitchen, eating his breakfast, having just dreamed about another man. I told myself I was being silly. Logan couldn’t have boyfriend/girlfriend expectations. He was dead for God’s sake.
    “Thanks, Logan,” I said, spooning the eggs in. I was usually a Pop Tarts-for-breakfast kind of girl. I wondered what my body would do with these newfound vitamins and minerals.
    “I did a load of laundry too.” His disembodied voice came from beside the stairs, but I couldn’t make him out at all.
    “Logan, you don’t have to do my cooking or my cleaning.”
    “It gives me something to do.”
    I smiled in the direction I thought he was in. “I appreciate it. I can’t cook and I’m a shitty housekeeper.”
    “There’s a way you can pay me back.”
    “How?”
    “Meet me again. Another midnight rendezvous?”
    My heart warmed at the thought of another date with Logan. None of the usual stress applied. It wasn’t like a real date. It was more like meeting with Michelle. With no sexual expectations to get in the way, I could enjoy getting to know Logan for who he was—a sweet, thoughtful ghost and friend.
    “I’d love to,” I said. I washed down the omelet with a swig of the coffee he’d made.
    “Good,” Logan said in a pensive tone. “Because I have to talk to you about Prudence.”
    I swallowed my coffee wrong and burst into a fit of coughing. “You sound serious,” I said between coughs. “Should I be worried?” Prudence scared me. The memory of her glowing torso still gave me goosebumps.
    “No. Nothing to worry about. But it’s a long story. I’ll tell you everything tonight.”
    “Sure.” Why would I worry? Prudence assaulted me and probably wanted me dead. Another day in paradise. I eyeballed my watch. “Shit, I’m going to be late.” I stood, lifting my plate from the counter.
    “Leave that for me. Go ahead. Get outta here.”
    “Thanks, Logan.” I grabbed my keys and took him up on his offer to clean up.
    * * * * *
     
    The hospital where I work is thirty minutes from Red Grove. I hopped into my Jeep and peeled out of the driveway, hoping I could still make my shift on time. The sight of Rick painting the cemetery fence shirtless had me slamming on the brakes before I could say “gonna be late.”
    “I hoped I would catch you this morning,” Rick called, dropping the paintbrush into the pan at his feet and walking toward me. “Would you have dinner with me tonight?”
    I was having trouble concentrating. The memory of my dream from that morning was fresh in my mind. My body responded just thinking about it.
    Rick stopped a few feet from me and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. Fast as the flutter of hummingbird wings, he was leaning in my window.
    “How did you do that?” I asked.
    “Do what?”
    “Move so quickly just now?”
    “If I was quick, it was for good reason. A man should never keep a beautiful woman waiting.”
    My cheeks blazed.
    “Dinner tonight?” he asked again. He licked