He sighed and leaned his head back against the tree, staring up into the branches. “I feel like I’m missing something obvious. Something that involves the Riggs. But every time I think of those people I get so angry I can’t think straight.”
“Anger will do that,” I said, thinking of the times I’d been in a blind rage when I couldn’t affect the living world. Not being alive made some thinking harder. Sometimes it fogged out memories completely.
“Do they own the rabbit?” I asked. “You said you thought it was alive. A pet?”
“It’s… No, not like that. I can’t.” He dropped one hand down to the head of the wolf beside him who stared at me with ghostly eyes. “Pet isn’t right. But something.”
I took another swig of coffee.
“Anything?” Lu asked.
“He doesn’t know. Thinks the Riggs have something to do with it.”
“We knew that yesterday. Anything else?”
I yawned and rubbed the back of my neck. I was bruised and sore from what was probably not a dream last night. “Not that he’s saying other than the whole ‘I quit’ thing.”
“I said I know the rabbit, but can’t remember the rabbit,” Val grouched.
“And that he knows the rabbit but doesn’t remember it. He’s in a terrific mood this morning. Totally swell.”
Lu poked me in the ribs, and I knew she meant it to be teasing, but I winced like she’d gone at me with a dull steak knife.
“Shit,” she said, drawing her hand back. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting. I shouldn’t touch…”
“No, hey now, wait. You should,” I said, stopping her there. “It’s not. Not what it’s been.” I set my cup down and twisted on the tailgate so I could face her. “Lu, I love you. You should touch me anytime you feel like it. No, don’t make that face. I know…I know I’ve been a little twitchy.”
She raised one cinnamon eyebrow. In the morning light, her pale skin glowed like moonlight. “Alittletwitchy?”
“Okay,” I said. “A lot. Sudden contact or, I don’t know, unexpected touch has been hard, and I don’t even fucking know why because it’s what I want. What I’ve wanted all these years. This?” I waved at the trees, the sky, the grass, even our dog who was rolling on her back in something foul smelling like a total goofball. “I want all this. I want it. I want you.”
“It’s okay.” She drew her fingers down her braid, as if she wanted to take it apart and remake it, just to have something for her hands to do. “You don’t have to apologize. I don’t know… It’s hard knowing when I’m pushing too much.”
“You are not pushing too much. I’m not apologizing for being a mess, here.” I tapped my forehead. “I’m saying I’m working on expecting touch to be good, to be wonderful. But the sensations of the living world are still pretty rough waters for me.”
“I know.” She reached out then pulled her hand back, a wry smile on her lips. “I’ll try to keep my hands off all that handsome.”
“Don’t you dare.” I leaned toward her, and she lifted her face, offering a kiss, her hands pointedly locked at her sides.
I took one of her hands in mine, fitting our fingers together. I waggled my eyebrows, which made her smile, then I caught her lips with mine.
Lu tasted of coffee, the fresh morning air, and everything I’d ever wanted. I deepened the kiss, opening my mouth and encouraging her to let me in. The tension in her softened, and she gave me all of her, letting my tongue explore and taste, while she did the same.
I was reluctant to pull away, but Val cleared his throat, then started whistling some kind of off-key song about lovin’, touchin’, and squeezin’, and it was annoying enough to make me pull away.
“You could kindly fuck off now,” I said to him.
Lu chuckled. “What’s he doing?”
Val widened his eyes and just kept whistling the Journey song.
“Whistling.”
She dragged a fingertip gently across my temple. “Glaring at the ghost isn’t going to change what he’s doing, and all you’ll get out of it are crow’s feet.”
“You don’t like a man with crow’s feet?” I asked with mock affront.
“No, I do. Just shows you’re alive.” It came out like a sigh, like a dream-come-true.
