Home > The Bad Boy of Bluebonnet (Bluebonnet #4.5)(2)

The Bad Boy of Bluebonnet (Bluebonnet #4.5)(2)
Author: Jessica Clare

Emily thanked him profusely and sent him back to the station with double helpings of chocolate croissants and some red velvet cupcakes she’d made (because she knew Old Charley liked those quite a bit). For the rest of the day, she cleaned up her kitchen, baked some fresh lemon poppy seed bread in case she had visitors, and then went back to work scraping wallpaper min one of the back bathrooms.

In the last two years, the ramshackle three-story Victorian had seen vast improvements. It had been a wreck when she and Braden had bought it, but with time – lots of time – and effort, it had turned into a fascinating project and a fun place to live. If she ever got done remodeling, it’d look downright beautiful, but there was always more to be done. Not that Emily minded – she loved home improvement projects.

And in the daylight, she even enjoyed the big house with its fascinating rooms and its historical charm.

After the sun went down, though, she kind of hated it. Especially when the bed and breakfast was empty, as it often was. Bluebonnet wasn’t exactly a hub of commerce, but Emily had gotten a decent chunk in the divorce and the house was mostly paid for. She was doing just fine monetarily as long as she watched her pennies and had a few guests a month. But still, only a few guests a month tended to make things lonely. Now that her sister Luanne had moved out of the Peppermint House and in with her boyfriend Hank Sharp, Emily found herself home alone most nights.

And she really, really hated that.

So she watched Antiques Roadshow repeats on television. She flipped through the newest issue of Better Homes and Gardens. Played Sudoku on her phone. Scraped more wallpaper. Walked down to the hardware store and picked up a small can of paint for door trim. There was a paper on the bulletin board at the register. HANDYMAN – JERICHO LOZADA. GENERAL CONTRACTOR – NO JOB TOO BIG OR TOO SMALL. Several phone numbers were written on small torn strips at the bottom of the page, so she ripped one off and pocketed it. Why not. She’d promised Luanne she’d get the lighting checked out, and she had other projects she could use help with, too.

Then she returned home. The house was too still, so she turned on all the lights and watched a movie. When she could avoid it no longer, she headed up to her room for bed.

Emily’s bedroom was still her favorite room in the house. In one of the front turrets on the third floor of the old Victorian, it was an octagonal shape, which she adored for its uniqueness. She’d painted the room a soft burgundy with a paler pink trim, and matted art pieces in pale pastels dotted the walls. In the center of the room was her big, circular bed with the curving upholstered headboard in a matching pale pink. Her blankets were a mixture of burgundy and pink, and throw pillows dotted the head of the bed. It was a fluffy little paradise, and a cozy place to hang out.

Or at least it was until the noises started late at night again.

That night, she went to bed with the cross sitting on the pillow next to her and her cellphone clutched in her hand. Sure enough, at nearly four in the morning, she awoke to the sound of scuffling across the ceiling. The hairs on her body prickled, and Emily ducked under the covers like a child, clutching her phone.

Who to call? Who would be up this early? Who could even help her?

Biting her lip, Emily thought for a moment, and then began to text.

Hey Braden, I keep hearing footsteps upstairs. Remember we thought this place was haunted? I think it is. She felt like an idiot for reaching out to her ex. Braden could be a real jerk when he thought she was bothering him, even if it was something as benign as “I found a bag of your gear in a closet, want me to ship it to you?”

But that was one reason why they’d gotten a divorce. He’d felt like she was holding him back.

And Emily? Well, Emily had just wanted to set up her house. Run a bakery. Maybe start a family. Funny how things worked out. Now she had a business she didn’t want, no husband, and no chance of starting a family anytime soon.

Her phone buzzed just as she was drifting off to sleep again. Under the blanket fort, Emily scrambled for it, then hastily read the screen.

We’re in the middle of filming an overnight shoot so have to make this brief. Have you seen any full body apparitions? Do you have EVP footage? If so, send it to me and I’ll judge.

She groaned aloud. Why had she texted Braden? He was so useless.

Emily texted him back, because she was this far in. Might as well respond. No full body apparitions. Just footsteps. Lights flickering. Not gonna tape stuff. Can you help me or not?

A few minutes passed.

Then, he sent back two words. Busy. Sage.

She groaned and clicked the phone off. Screw Braden. Sage indeed. Like she was going to light some sage and wave it around the house in the hopes of ‘calming’ an angry spirit. He pulled that shit on his TV show, Spooky Society, and she knew it never worked.

She’d figure something out. Somehow.

The lights flickered as if to agree.

CHAPTER TWO

One week later

“So, any ghosts today?” Luanne asked, reaching across the kitchen counter and grabbing a double chocolate muffin.

“The usual last night,” Emily said, rubbing her eyes. “And don’t eat all the muffins. They’re for the library fundraiser.”

“Oooh, lookit me, eating all the muffins,” Luanne teased, cramming one into her mouth and pocketing the other. “Can I bring a few for Hank and the boys?”

Emily pulled a half-dozen off of the plate she was Saran-Wrapping and put them on a separate plate for Luanne. At least she’d stopped by to see how Em was doing. “Of course you can. You know that. Just tell Hank I appreciated him checking out my attic this last weekend, even though it didn’t lead to anything.” Just more of the same. Noises, but nothing found in the attic.

She was starting to get really freaked out. Maybe she needed to call in Braden and his ghost hunter television show after all.

“So what’s on the schedule today?” Luanne asked, licking her fingers clean.

“Elise is out and about but I think she’ll be home later tonight, which means I need to make something for dinner.” Emily checked her watch. “The new carpenter’s supposed to be by here in the next hour. I’m going to see if he can fix some of the water-damaged eaves outside, since I have a hard time reaching those without help.” She brightened and looked directly at Luanne as her sister snuck another muffin. “I don’t suppose you want to help—“

“Gotta go,” Luanne said, hopping off of her stool. She snagged the plate of muffins in her free hand and crooked her head at the door. “Working on the county law enforcement server. Can’t help. Sorry!”

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