Ghost of a Chance (Banshee Creek Book 2) by Ani Gonzalez Read Free Book Online

or, at least, the cannibal ones did. He'd watched the movie with Cole and, as a result, spent much time staring at the ceiling trying to avoid staring at his best friend's little sister's bellybutton. Cole's dad had been livid, but Gabe had been amused. It was exactly the sort of trouble he'd expect Elizabeth to get into.  
    But he wasn't amused now. What was Elizabeth doing, picking up guys in Banshee Creek? Successfully picking up guys in Banshee Creek, no less.  
    Hell, he'd almost had sex with Cole's baby sister. Cole's baby sister, who he wanted to kiss more than he wanted his next breath. He tried to think of what Cole would do to him if he were here. Then he decided that he really, really didn't want to think of what Cole would do. It would be painful. And he'd thoroughly deserve it. And yet he still wanted to kiss her.  
    Hell. This was hell.
    "Hmmm," Elizabeth murmured. She was still looking at him with beautifully expectant, but terribly familiar, hazel eyes. "Should we take this somewhere else?" she whispered.
    "No." He took a deep breath. Then he took another. "We're not taking this anywhere," he heard himself say. Oh, good, some part of his brain was still functioning.
    She frowned. Oh yeah, he knew that frown. It was her "oh no, I got caught" frown. He'd seen it several times as he and Cole had saved Elizabeth from her many ill-fated projects. Her shoulders slumped and her head hung. She looked down at her crazy, sexy, mess-with-Gabe's-brain shoes and sighed audibly.  
    The gesture was so familiar it made his heart hurt. How many times had he rescued Elizabeth after one of her hare-brained plans went awry? Too many to count. And he'd seldom escaped unscathed. That stupid spaceship ramp had broken his nose, the hot air balloon thing had almost strangled him, and he'd spent hours at the clinic wincing as the doctor had pulled disco ball shards out of his back. He could now add a refreshing lemonade bath to that list.
    Yes, Elizabeth Hunt was trouble with a capital T .
    "You figured it out," she said, almost pouting.
    "Yes." He took yet another deep breath. Being around Elizabeth required a lot of deep breathing. She should have a yoga school named after her. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in L.A."
    "My mom wasn't doing well, so I came back." Her voice was flat, her face carefully blank.
    He felt a surge of sympathy. Mary Hunt was a close friend of his mother's, so he'd heard about Mary's condition. Depression was a horrible illness, and Mary, devastated by her son's death, struggled with its effects. The situation must be dire indeed, if Elizabeth had felt the need to return. That was a big sacrifice. But, like her brother Cole, Elizabeth would do anything for her family. He respected that. But it didn't dampen his anger.
    "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, fists clenched at his sides. "You can't just go around picking up strange guys."
    Her eyes widened in outrage, and her spine stiffened. "Don't be an ass," she sneered in what he now recognized as her Alpha Centauri princess voice. "I knew it was you."  
    She was annoyed now. Good, annoyed was better than aroused.  
    "You're the one who didn't recognize me," she continued, her voice dripping with disdain. "That means you're the one picking up strange girls in parking lots."  
    She had a point, but he wasn't about to admit it.
    "You can't pick me up," he snarled. "You're too young."
    "Three years, Gabe." She raised her hand with the requisite number of fingers splayed out, like he was a very slow kindergartner.  
    "It's not the years."  
    Age didn't matter. She was Elizabeth , shy little Elizabeth who came up with crazy ideas and always got into scrapes. Except she wasn't shy little Elizabeth anymore. She was now glamorous and assertive and...
    Tempting. She was way too tempting.
    "I'm not a virgin, you know," the siren crooned.  
    "I really, really don't want to know about that," he stammered, running his hand through his hair.