Dream Lake by Lisa Kleypas Read Free Book Online

fondant.”
    “Show me how to do it. I’ll take over.”
    “You’ve got too many other things to do.” Zoë felt a rush of fond gratitude for her cousin, who could always be counted on in times of trouble. “And this isn’t as easy as it looks. You’d end up with a pile of big pink balls.”
    “Then I’d put ’em on the groom’s table,” Justine said.
    Zoë chuckled, and sighed. “No, I’ll stay until after the wedding, and then I’ll go to Everett.” She hesitated before continuing. “I’ll be meeting with Emma’s elder-care consultant—she helps with insurance care facilities, and knows all the options for what my grandmother will need. So I’ll be gone for a couple of days.”
    “Whatever it takes.” Justine slid her a concerned glance. “You think your dad will come up from Arizona to see her?”
    “I hope not.” Although Zoë hadn’t seen her father in years, they exchanged occasional brief e-mails and phone calls. And from what she knew of his relationship with Emma, it had been even more distant than that. “It would be really awkward. And he wouldn’t be any help at all.”
    “Poor Zoë. I wonder if you’ve ever had a man in your life you could really count on.”
    “Right now,” Zoë said, “a man is the last thing I need. Except for Byron, of course. Which reminds me … would you look after him while I’m gone?”
    “Oh, jeez.” Justine scowled. “I’ll give him food and water, but that’s it. No treats, no combing, no baths or special outfits, and no cat massage.”
    “It’s just a light rubdown at the end of the day,” Zoë protested. “It helps him relax.”
    “Zoë, I don’t even do that for my boyfriend. Your big fat fluffball of a cat is going to have to deal with his hypertension on his own.”

Five
    Darcy’s tense voice filtered through the answering machine as she left a message at nine in the morning. Hearing it, Alex dragged himself out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and staggered toward the kitchen.
    “… don’t know if you’ve found another place to live yet,” Darcy was saying, “but time’s running out. I’m going to start showing the house next week, so you have to be out of there. I want it sold by Labor Day. If you want to buy it from me, you can talk to the Realtor—”
    “I’m not going to pay for the same damn house twice,” Alex muttered, ignoring the rest of the message. He pressed a button on the automatic espresso machine and waited for it to heat. Through slitted eyes, he saw the ghost standing at the kitchen island with his forearms braced on the granite counter.
    The ghost met his gaze. “Hiya.”
    Alex didn’t reply.
    Last night, he had turned on the TV and sat on the sofa with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. The ghost had sat in a nearby chair, asking sardonically, “You’re not bothering with a glass now?”
    Lifting the bottle to his lips, Alex had ignored him and kept his gaze glued on the television screen. The ghost had fallen obligingly silent … but he had stayed until Alex had passed out.
    And this morning he was still here.
    Seeing that the espresso machine was ready, Alex pressed the start button. The metallic squall of the automatic grinder filled the air. The machine clicked, clacked, pumped out a double shot of espresso, and emptied the grounds into a hidden plastic receptacle. Alex drank the coffee straight and set the empty cup in the sink.
    He turned to face the ghost with grim resignation. It was pointless to keep ignoring him, since he didn’t appear to be going anywhere. And in that weird secondhand way, Alex could sense the ghost’s mood, the weary patience of a man who’d been alone for a long time. Although Alex had never been accused of having an excess of compassion, he couldn’t help feeling a flicker of sympathy.
    “You got a name?” Alex eventually asked.
    “I did, once. But I can’t remember it.”
    “What’s with the flight jacket?”
    “I don’t know,” the ghost said.