A Match Made in Hell Page 4

  "Who are you all of a sudden, Dr. Phil? Have you been going to some gay psychology class I know nothing about?"

  "Don't get snippy," he warned. "I'm only trying to help."

  "Stop taking her side and listen to me, Evan. First she was all sweetness and light, but as soon as she heard about Joe and me, everything changed."

  "Excuse me, girlfriend, but your bitchy slip is showing." Evan was cutting me no slack. "She almost died. You were no Susie Sunshine the day after your heart failure, you know."

  I remembered that day. I'd woken up in the hospital, not knowing how I got there, wondering if the dream I'd just had about a white light and a disembodied voice telling me it "wasn't my time" had been real. Stiff, sore, and cranky as hell, I awoke with the words "do unto others as you would have them do unto you" still resounding in my head. I was pretty unhappy to discover that the people I was supposed to "do it to" were people who'd died with unfinished business.

  Evan was right, damn him. I shouldn't hold Kelly's crankiness against her.

  "Has anybody ever told you that you're a pain in the ass?"

  He laughed. "Well, actually…"

  "Don't say it," I warned.

  Evan laughed again, and I couldn't help but join him this time. Whatever issues lay ahead with Kelly and Joe, at least I had someone to adjust my bitchy slip.

  "Kelly thinks you're cool. Colorful, she said."

  I held the phone out at arm's length and stared at it. Then I put it back to my ear and asked Joe, very calmly, "What?"

  "I was worried you and Kelly wouldn't like each other. You're so different."

  Gee, ya think?

  "Kelly's responding well, Nick. Her fluids are stabilized, the brain swelling is already subsiding. The ankles will heal. She'll be ready for discharge in a few days."

  "And then what?"

  Joe must've been tipped off by something in my voice, because his answer was wary. "What do you mean?"

  My conversation with Kelly had left me edgy, and despite the tough stance I'd taken with her—claiming that Joe was mine now—I couldn't help but wonder where I really stood. "I mean, what happens next? She's your wife. I'm your girlfriend. Where do we go from here? You didn't even tell her about me—I walked in there blind."

  His hesitation made me even edgier. "Nicki, things have been happening pretty fast. I was going to tell her today. I didn't plan on you being at the hospital so early."

  Not the right answer. At least, not the one I wanted to hear.

  "She still has feelings for you," I said flatly.

  "Did she say that?" No hesitation that time—in fact, Joe sounded a little too eager to find out the answer.

  "She didn't have to." My heartbeat began to rise, anger or fear, I didn't know which. "The question is, do you still have feelings for her?"

  He blew out a breath in frustration. "I believe I asked you about your feelings yesterday, and you never answered me."

  I didn't plan on answering now, either. If I were going to declare myself to Joe, it wasn't going to be during a discussion about another girl.

  "Is this some kind of stand-off? You won't tell me how you feel unless I tell you how I feel?" I didn't like pressure, yet I couldn't deny I was guilty of applying a little myself.

  "Nicki, I've told you what happened between Kelly and me. I told you from the beginning, before we got involved, remember? You knew we were going to have to deal with this situation sooner or later."

  "Not like this." I didn't know why I was being so pushy. Well, maybe I did, but I wasn't well-versed in jealous behavior; I'd always been the love 'em and leave 'em type, moving on before things got to this stage. "I didn't expect Kelly to be all hurt and vulnerable when she showed up. I mean, she needs a doctor, and here you are, a doctor. How convenient is that?"

  Joe didn't answer at first, and I found myself gripping the phone so hard my hand hurt. "You're going to have to trust me, Nicki," he said quietly.

  I drew in a shaky breath. The last time I trusted a guy, I'd caught him in the backseat of a car with a skanky blond cheerleader named Cindy.

  "I've always trusted you," Joe said, "even when you've come up with some pretty unbelievable tales."

  He had me there. Dead people, voodoo queens, grave digging—I was hardly your ordinary girlfriend.

  Which was one of the reasons I was so worried.

  "Let's talk about this later tonight," he said, sounding weary. "I'm going to catch a few winks in the sleep room before my next shift, but I'm off at eight. How does wine and pasta sound? I can stop by Mama Mia's on the way to your house."

  "Sounds great." I meant it. Joe might not have said exactly what I needed to hear, but he hadn't said anything negative either, and I was tired of feeling insecure. "I do believe I'll be feeling the need for an emergency house call by then, Doctor."

  He laughed, and it made me smile to hear it. His voice lowered. "Better that than another emergency need to visit the graveyard. I know what happens at the graveyard."

  I laughed, too. "Yep, I remember. All kinds of horny devils come to life. Meet me there at midnight."

  Joe's chuckle caught. "You're kidding, right?"

  Poor man. I laughed again, enjoying his reaction. "Yes, I'm kidding!" I waited a few heartbeats and said, "But if I really did wanna go, you'd go with me, wouldn't you?"

  I wanted to hear him say it, even if I had no intention of going near Trinity Cemetery in the middle of the night ever again. Joe and I had our naughty little walk on the wild side, but we'd also wound up in the middle of a voodoo ritual, and nearly wound up dead.

  "You're a wicked, wicked woman, Nicki Styx." There was no way to miss the appreciation in Joe's voice. "And I guess if I'm gonna be with a wicked woman, I better be willing to be a bad boy once in a while. I'd go if you wanted to."

  "Why, Joe…" I felt the prick of my own horny little devils. "Next time you feel like being a bad boy, you just let me know."

  He cleared his throat and whispered hoarsely, "If you don't stop teasing me I'm going to be arrested for indecent exposure. How am I supposed to treat my patients when it looks like somebody pitched a tent in my scrubs?"

  I giggled, feeling no guilts whatsoever. "Tell them you're doing a clinical study on those little blue pills, Dr. Bascombe. And if you come by later, I'll do my best to relieve the problem."

  And oh, what a relief it was. By ten o'clock that night Joe and I had proven, to our own individual satisfaction, that he had no need for little blue pills. And now he lay warm and solid in my bed, half-empty bottle of red wine on the nightstand, candles flickering. "I love this music," Joe murmured. "Who is it?" He sounded tired, but happy.

  "Luscious Jackson," I answered drowsily, sliding my hand over his bare chest. "A girl band called Luscious Jackson." My shoulder was tucked beneath his shoulder, my right leg draped over his left, head nestled just beneath his chin. It was, as I liked to think of it, the sweet spot.

  "Never heard of them," Joe said, "but I think Luscious is my new favorite word." He chuckled, chest rumbling beneath my cheek. "Music to make love to."

  The word "love" brought me fully awake. "Is that what we just did?"

  He gathered me even closer and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "That's what I just did," he said softly. "How about you?"

  I could barely breathe, but I wasn't sure if it was the way he was holding me or the way the conversation was going. "The word scares me," I whispered. "I'm not sure I know what love is."

  He sighed. "I'm confused, Nicki. One minute you're pulling me closer, and the next you're pushing me away."

  "That's me," I murmured. "An enigma, bound up in a riddle, wrapped inside a paradox." I'd heard that phrase once and never forgotten it; it seemed an accurate version of the weirdness that was me—now more than ever.

  Joe tried to draw back so he could look me in the face, but I snuggled even closer and said, "You know my pathetic little story, Joe. Engaged at eighteen, lied to and cheated on, broken heart, broken dreams."


  How lame it sounded. And it was, when you thought about it. I mean, who gets engaged at eighteen?

  Ignoring my halfhearted resistance, he rolled me over and pressed me back against the pillows. "That was a long time ago, Nicki." His hand trailed down to the tattoo of a broken heart on the curve of my right breast. "You were way too young, and the guy was a creep who didn't deserve you."

  The tenderness in his tone was enough to break my heart all over again.

  The only light in my bedroom came from the candles on my dresser, but I could see Joe's face, serious and intent. I tried to lift the mood with a little teasing. "And you think you deserve me? You must've done something really bad to wind up with a girlfriend who sees dead people."

  Joe didn't smile. He brushed the hair from my eyes and said, "I don't know what I did, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant I had a chance to be with you."

  What could I do but kiss him? And then I kissed him again, because he tasted as sweet on the outside as he was on the inside—cherry chocolate cake, dripping with warm syrup and dusted with sugar.

  And when the kiss was over, he rested his forehead against mine, breath warm on my lips. "Nicki, I—"

  "Shh," I whispered. "I don't wanna jinx anything."

  He sighed. "This from the girl who faced down a voodoo queen and dug up a zombie."

  The smile in his voice made me smile, too, though the memory of that night wasn't funny.

  "I think you just need a little more time and a little more proof that not all men are jerks," he murmured.

  I ran my fingers through his dark hair, loving the feel of it. "I'm willing to do a little more research into the male psyche, Dr. Bascombe. Is there any probing involved?"

  "Most definitely," Joe said, and then all conversation stopped for a while, as a band called Luscious Jackson engraved itself in my memory as part of one of the best nights ever.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 3

  I was feeling a lot better about things by the time Evan and I went to the hospital the next day. After all, Joe'd spent the night in my bed, not by Kelly's bedside. He was still sprawled under my goose-down comforter, catching up on lost sleep and recuperating from our late night "research."

  Evan, as usual, looked fabulous. Black linen trousers, creased in all the right places, with a blue and white striped dress shirt, untucked and tapered to fit. He even carried a matching bouquet of blue irises, the big fairy. He'd insisted on khaki cargoes and layered tees for me, an okay look but not my favorite.

  "Now be nice," he hissed under his breath as we approached Kelly's room. "And get that smug look off your face. Not everybody needs to know you've been doing the nasty all night."

  He gave me a warning glance, so I pasted a fake smile on my face and flashed it at him.

  The door was open. I tapped the door frame and stuck my head in. Kelly was watching television, looking virtually the same as she had the day before. Her legs were still elevated on pillows, bare toes peeping from the bandages.

  "Can we come in?" I deliberately made myself sound as cheerful as possible.

  "Sure." Kelly clicked off the set. She looked curiously at Evan as he followed me into the room.

  "This is my best friend and business partner, Evan Owenby. I hope you don't mind, but he's been dying to meet you."

  "Oh my God," Evan gushed, "you two look exactly alike!" He shook his head in amazement as he stared at Kelly, completely missing my dirty look.

  Kelly didn't look too happy at the comparison either, which I found pretty insulting. At least I didn't look like somebody'd beat me with an ugly stick, and right now she did. Her bruises were slightly more green than blue today, but that was hardly an improvement.

  "Nice to meet you, Evan." She recovered quicker than I did.

  "These are for you." Evan held out the irises, completely oblivious, or at least pretending to be.

  "Thanks." Kelly took the irises and admired them, even holding them to her nose. "No one's given me flowers in a long time."

  Evan melted, the big marshmallow. "Aww, poor thing. Have you been on a deserted island or something?"

  Kelly gave him a genuine smile. "Kind of. I've been in the Peace Corps. Romance tends to take a backseat when you're dealing with issues like poor sanitation and a lack of clean drinking water."

  "Ick." Evan's shudder was just as genuine. "Speaking of water, let me put those in some for you." He bustled around like the Florence Nightingale of florists, taking the water pitcher from Kelly's bedside table and refilling it in the bathroom sink, talking the whole time. "No boyfriend? No significant other? Or doesn't the Peace Corps allow fraternization between the troops?"

  Kelly's gaze flicked toward me, then away. She and Evan were chatting like old friends—I felt like a third wheel.

  "I was seeing someone in Santo Domingo for a while, but it didn't work out. It's just as well—he turned out to be a jerk."

  "I hear ya, honey. Sometimes it's better to be alone than in the wrong company. But you're here now, with us. Of course, this has got to be one of the strangest things ever. You guys should write to 'Ripley's Believe It or Not' or something. I mean, what are the odds that Nicki would lead the paramedics to her own twin sister?"

  "Evan…" We'd agreed not to talk about this. There was enough stuff going on without announcing I was a freak who talked to the dead. Joe had been willing to keep it to himself, and so was I. I'd told the paramedics I just happened to see Kelly's crushed car from the highway.

  "What?" Kelly lowered the flowers and glanced at me, then at Evan as he stepped from the bathroom. "What are you talking about?"

  "You didn't know?" Evan was already in high gossip mode, taking the irises and unwrapping them as he spoke. I knew immediately he'd intended to tell Kelly this all along, the big meddler.

  "Evan. This is stupid. Stop it."

  He ignored me.

  "Nicki knows things."

  Kelly shot me an unreadable look.

  "She knew there'd been a car accident." He gave me an innocent glance over his shoulder as he arranged the irises in the pitcher. "Nicki knew exactly where your car went off the road. She knew there was someone trapped in the ravine."

  "Shut up, Evan." Rarely did I use that tone, and despite the fact that he deserved it, I could see immediately that he didn't appreciate it. It didn't stop him, though.

  "She didn't know who you were, of course, but Nicki is the one who insisted on going to look for you. If she hadn't, you'd be dead by now." Evan gave the purplish blooms a final adjustment and turned a sweet smile on Kelly. "So you might want to remember that before you two get off to a bad start."

  Unbelievable. Un-freaking believable. I was so pissed at Evan's move that I couldn't even speak.

  He turned and brushed imaginary pollen from his fingers as he walked toward the door. "My work here is done," he quipped. "I'll see you both later." And then he was gone, the big coward.

  At least he hadn't told Kelly about Lila coming to see me. For that I'd let him keep at least one testicle.

  "What was that all about?" Kelly was frowning at me. "Was he telling the truth?"

  I didn't know what to say. I sighed, and settled for, "It was just a coincidence."

  She paled, bruises like mushrooms under the skin of her cheek. The look she gave me was suspicious. "Are you some kind of psychic or something?"

  Nervous at how close she'd come to the mark, frustrated by Evan, my temper flared. "I said it was just a coincidence," I snapped. "Let's leave it at that."

  Kelly apparently had a temper, too. "You don't have to bite my head off."

  "Look—" Frustration made me say more than I probably should. "This whole thing has been a shock to me, too, you know. It's hard enough to grasp that I have a sister," I crossed my arms, trying to get a grip, "but as soon as you found out I was dating Joe, everything turned sour."

  Kelly flushed, but didn't look away. "What did you expect?"

  I steeled myself, preparing fo
r the worst. "Are you telling me you want Joe back? After all this time?"

  "No."

  I waited, not very patiently, for her to say more.

  All she offered was, "I was rude yesterday. I'm sorry."

  Not quite willing to let it go, I said, "You dissed my outfit."

  She flared again. "You came in here all glammed up the day after you find out your mother just died!" She looked away, staring resentfully at the crappy curtains. "It was inappropriate."

  I didn't believe for one second that my clothes were at the heart of Kelly's hostility. "Well, excuse me, Mother Teresa."

  "Ladies, is there a problem in here?" A black nurse, easily two hundred pounds of no-nonsense, came into the room. "This is a hospital, not the little girls' room at the high school prom." By the look on her face I knew I was in danger of being told to leave.

  I wasn't ready to leave. Kelly and I had things to talk about.

  "Sorry." I spoke first. "We'll keep it down."

  I expected Kelly to say something different, but after a brief pause, she added, "Sorry, nurse."

  A final glare of warning, and the nurse left. I waited a few seconds, then closed the door behind her and leaned against it.

  I wanted to get back to the subject of Joe, but there was something else that needed to be addressed. "I don't mean to sound heartless," I said quietly, "but Lila Boudreaux was not my mother. She was a total stranger, and I don't usually go around dressed in mourning for total strangers." I had a brief flashback to my goth days, when that might've been the case, but that was a long time ago, before I learned that death was nothing to flirt with.

  Tears filled Kelly's eyes and she swiped them angrily away. "Peaches had things to tell us, Nicki, things about our past that now we'll never know. I just can't believe that after all these years, when we finally meet, you don't seem to care that she's dead."

  "I care," I just didn't feel the same way about death as I used to—not now, when I knew death wasn't the end of everything. "We can't change what's happened. I'm sure she's in a good place." The Light was as good as it gets. Peaches had seemed like a nice woman, and I would bet she was doing just fine in the afterlife, but I didn't know how to communicate that to Kelly without sounding like a lunatic. I settled by being as honest as I could. "I can't miss someone I never knew."