Ghost for Sale Read Online Free

again, what red-blooded girl wouldn’t be? Even one who up to this point hadn’t been tempted to do the mattress-mambo with any guy.
    His thick hair hung nearly to his shoulders. His cheeks were high-boned and his nose hawk-like. Perfectly kissable lips. Not too thick. Not too thin. Yummy.
    Before I could continue my inventory, Marcy broke in on my thoughts. “We’re here.”
    I opened my eyes. With typical VanLier luck, Marcy had found a parking spot right in front of Jimmy’s.
    “I’d give my black and tan stilettos, and throw in my orange polka dot sandals if I could parallel park half as well as you do.” The nose of the Corvette was a mere six inches from the bumper of the car in front of us.
    “It’s a gift.” She waved her hand in an airy gesture and opened the door. The rose-peach polish glistened in the lamplight.
    “Don’t I know it.”
    Liam leaped out of the car and opened my door. I hurriedly put my hand on the handle to make it look like I’d pushed it open. I might as well not have bothered. Marcy was already heading for the entrance. In the blink of an eye, Liam was in front of her and threw open the heavy wooden door.
    I swallowed a groan.
    She turned to me. “They must have installed automatic door openers since the last time I was here.”
    “Must have,” I said to her. “Don’t,” I mouthed to Liam.
    He shrugged. “I’m a gentleman.” As he held the door, someone came down the stairs from the tap room. He sniffed the air, and a look of rapture crossed his face. “Ale.”
    I sidled up to him and whispered out of the corner of my mouth. “Jimmy’s is an Irish pub. Downstairs is for the under twenty-one crowd. Second floor, Jimmy serves ale and stronger beverages. Did you notice the separate entrances for the downstairs and upstairs?”
    Liam nodded.
    “Jimmy can sniff out a fake I.D. a mile away. By the way, can you drink or eat?”
    “I don’t know. This is my first time around. But I don’t think so.” For a moment, his sensual lips drooped before he shook off the disappointment and smiled. My knees went weak. “You’ll just have to have a libation for both of us.”
    “Not at Jimmy’s I won’t,” I mumbled in a low undertone.
    He gave me a confused look. “Why not? And what is a fake I.D.?”
    I slapped my forehead. “That’s right. There were no laws against drinking if you were underage in your time, were there?”
    “Underage?”
    “No one under twenty-one can legally drink, so most kids under twenty-one try to find a way around the law, hence the fake I.D.’s. Marcy and I tried to sneak into Jimmy’s once. Not only did we get busted, Jimmy called our parents. Just let me say, it isn’t one of my better memories. There’s nothing like disappointed parents to make you feel like pond scum. But even without alcohol, Jimmy’s is always hopping,” I said behind my hand.
    “Did you say something, Cat?” Marcy called over her shoulder.
    “I think there’s an open table up and over to our right,” I yelled back.
    “Oh, yeah, I see it.”
    We pushed our way through the crowd to the open table. Marcy sat across from me, and her ghost slid into the chair beside me. When three men and a woman walked on stage, the crowd broke into applause and whistled.
    “GRIT’s playing,” I yelled to Marcy.
    “Cool,” she hollered back.
    The guitarist, wearing jeans that rode loose on his hips and a vest with no shirt under it, picked up his guitar, turned on the amp, and tuned up. Liam clapped his hands over his ears, a look of horrified fascination on his face. His gaze traveled from the band to the young women who stood in front of the stage. His eyes crossed when a buxom blonde in a tight, low tee with hip-hugging designer jeans turned in our direction.
    “There’s Kendra.” Marcy pointed at the blonde. She waved and motioned her over.
    Kendra pulled out the chair that Liam was sitting in. Uh-oh . She’d barely settled in when she shrieked and jumped up, rubbing