Waking the Dead by Jane Davitt, Alexa Snow Read Free Book Online Page B

He grinned. Josh guessed so she’d know Nick was kidding.
    Caitrin had a thick sweater wrapped around her even though it had been warm earlier. “As much as I might say against my mam when we’re arguing, she can cook a proper meal. She’d have my hide if she found out I’d said otherwise.”
    “That she would,” John said. “And I wouldn’t dare get in her way.”
    Josh swallowed a last mouthful and got up, then hesitated. “I should help clean up first.”
    If he was honest, he was expecting what followed, with his brother and John both waving his offer aside and telling him to be on his way, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t been sincere. He didn’t want to be a bother, and he was a little shocked at how, well, how primitive Rossneath was. He’d never thought of his parents as wealthy, but they had a pool; a large, four-bedroom house; a cleaning service; and a man who looked after the yard once a week. His brother seemed to be living with nothing but the most basic appliances. The TV was smaller than the one in his father’s car, for God’s sake.
    He got a jacket -- the island, even in full sunlight, was still a lot cooler than
Atlanta
in the summer -- and followed Caitrin outside.
    “Should I be bringing something?” he asked as they cut across the field, headed for the plume of smoke rising in the distance, pale against the still-light sky.
    Caitrin chuckled. “Only yourself. There’s plenty of people bringing beer and --” She steered them toward an outcrop of rock and retrieved a plastic bag that clinked. “I’m not going empty-handed.”
    Josh didn’t need to ask why she’d hidden the bag, even without hearing her thoughts; though the drinking age in Scotland was eighteen, the adults on the island probably didn’t like it much when their kids drank, and for good reason. Josh had learned a long time ago that regular kids -- by which he pretty much meant everyone else, everyone who couldn’t read other people’s minds -- were willing to take all kinds of chances he wouldn’t. Sometimes it made him feel about a hundred years old.
    “So,” Josh said, because it seemed awkward not to try to make conversation. “You’ve lived here your whole life?”
    “God, yes,” Caitrin groaned. “And I don’t mind telling you it’s like torture. It’s all well and good to come to a place like this for a visit, but more than a week or two and you’ll be half out of your head with wanting to get somewhere a bit more civilized.”
    “Yeah.” Josh reached out a hand in offering. “Can I carry that for you?”
    She gave him a disbelieving look as she gave him the bag. “Talk about civilized. Here the boys are more likely to ask if they can take off your top, and as if they’re doing you a favor.” At the expression on his face, she quickly apologized. “God, sorry. Sometimes I say things I shouldn’t.”
    >From Josh’s point of view, of course, it was better that she said them out loud. “No, it’s okay. Is it really like that here? I’m going to seem like the biggest geek in comparison.”
    “Not at all,” Caitrin said. “You’ll put some manners into the rest of them.” She unbuttoned her sweater as they stepped off the road and into the grass, following a path that was invisible as far as Josh could tell. Beneath the sweater, he noted, Caitrin was wearing a low-cut top in a dark, shimmering fabric.
    “So do you have a -- I mean -- are you seeing anyone?” he asked, feeling awkward about the abrupt question but wanting to know. If she had a boyfriend, he’d back off once they got to the beach and do his best to socialize without causing trouble.
    She gave him a sidelong glance and he caught a flicker of interest as if she was reassessing him. Too late, he realized how his question could be interpreted and he cursed himself. It wasn’t that he didn’t find her attractive, because he did. Hell, she was like a sparkler, all fizz and spit and energy, and her thoughts and speech