He Followed Me Home

Chapter Nine

Her curls were wild, her face lined from being pressed against her pillow and her eyes puffy from tears she must have cried last night but she was still the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He felt desire fill him. He'd felt lust before but this was different. This went deeper than just mere lust. He felt his pants tighten and suddenly he knew the answer to that question Janice had asked of him in Vicksburg. Ghosts, or spirits, as he had recently learned he was, could definitely still get hard-ons.

Without another word he slipped from the room and made his way to the kitchen where he could pace off his intense and overwhelming desire. By the time Francine entered the kitchen ten minutes later wearing jeans and a midnight blue silk tank top that hugged her slender frame, he was feeling much more in control of himself.

"What are you going to be late for?" he asked her as she slipped a pair of blue studs into her ears and then ran her hands over her curls.

"I have a meeting at work."

"On Saturday?" he asked.

"Yes. The bigwigs are announcing their cuts today," she said and then began to chew nervously on her fingernails.

Wyatt smiled and wished he could hug her to offer reassurance, "Everything will be fine," he promised her. "You are a very talented author."

"How would you know?" she demanded, her nerves making her words more harsh than she had intended them to be. She frowned apologetically at him but he laughed.

"I don't have much to keep me busy while you're working during the day and I don't have to sleep as much as you do so I had to find something to keep me busy. I've read everything you've ever had published."

"Seriously?" Francine asked with shock. No other man she had ever had a relationship with had taken the time to read anything she had written. Then she mentally kicked herself. She was not in a relationship with Wyatt because if she were that would make her crazy. Wouldn't it?

"Seriously," he replied with a wink and then he frowned, "Are you too nervous to eat?"

"Yes," she said as she let out a shaky breath and then took a sip of her coffee. She looked at the clock on the wall and her dark eyes widened, "I have to go now."

"Good luck, Franny. I....." Wyatt stopped himself before the next words came out of his mouth. He had almost told the woman that he loved her. That would have been a major mistake. "I'll be here when you get back," he said instead.

"Your pen pal is still asleep but she should be awake soon," Francine informed him with a smile.

Wyatt frowned, "Pen pal?'

"Your writing buddy Janice," Francine winked and Wyatt nodded. "Thanks for being there for me last night Wyatt. I guess I never did tell you thank you. You made me smile even though my heart should have been breaking."

Wyatt blushed and cleared his throat as he looked down at his boots and shifted his feet, "I'll be here whenever you need me, Franny." He raised his head and looked into her eyes, "That's a promise."

He wasn't sure if Francine was who Madam Zinga wanted him to meet, after all he wasn't completely certain that Madam Zinga wasn't just some addle brained old woman who liked to play with the minds of lonely spirits, but he did know that he had spent the last one hundred and forty-seven years alone and now he wasn't alone anymore. Lonely? Yes, because he couldn't have what he truly wanted with this smart, beautiful woman but he wasn't alone.

Wyatt's eyes filled with tenderness as he looked at her and suddenly to Francine the kitchen felt too small. Wyatt was so tall and broad and he seemed to take up every inch of extra space.