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“My grandfather?” I’m so surprised that I let my arms fall and step back. “What does that even mean?”
Holly cringes and wraps her arms tighter around herself. “Sorry! I’m sorry. It’s just that my imagination was going haywire in the darkness. I couldn’t stop thinking about how there might be an ax murderer outside the house. Then, I reasoned that an ax murderer wouldn’t bother stopping by here because you’re never here, and how would an ax murderer know to show up this weekend?” The words tumble out so rapidly; I’m worried she’ll pass out from lack of oxygen. “So, that ruled them out. But then what about ghosts? This is just the type of dark, spooky situation where a ghost would pop out at someone in a horror movie. And, if a ghost were here, then it would probably be someone who died here. So, I just thought that maybe I should make a preemptive strike of kindness. Maybe your grandfather’s ghost wouldn’t jump out at me if I said nice things and thanked him and whatnot.” Halfway through her insane explanation, Holly started pacing, and by the end, she’s panting for breath.
I try to catch up with the mad train ride of her thought process. “You believe in ghosts?”
“No.” She hesitates and then shrugs. “Maybe.” A huge gust of a sigh leaves her, and finally, she holds my gaze. “I’m not saying I definitely do. But I thought it was better to be safe than sorry.”
I think back on the things she was saying when I came out of the bedroom—complimenting the house, being thankful that we could stay here.
In a weird way, it’s kind of sweet. Then, I imagine, if Grandpa Ben were actually a ghost, he’d probably grumble that scaring people was a waste of his time.
The thought has me grinning. Holly frowns at me, which only gets me laughing. She tries to glare, but a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.
“So glad I’m amusing you.” Speaking is what breaks her stony expression, and a chuckle escapes.
I calm down, shaking my head at her. “I can’t believe you were talking to my grandpa’s ghost.”
Her smile fades. “It was insensitive. I’m really sorry, Ben.”
Stepping forward, I wrap my arms around her, not wanting her to beat herself up. “No. I’m sorry. I should’ve realized that sleeping here might be uncomfortable for you. New place. Out of the city. I get it. First few times I visited my grandpa, he put a night-light in my room.” I don’t mention that I was nine at the time. Don’t want to wound her pride.
Holly relaxes against me and winds her arms around my waist. This result right here makes almost getting hit in the head with a wooden fish worth it.
“I’m such a ninny.”
I rub reassuring circles on her back. “A ninny who’s able to defend herself. So, there’s that.”
She gives my side a pinch, but I just chuckle again.
“You okay now? Think you can sleep?” I hate myself for the reasonable suggestion of her going back to bed. Getting to hold her, having her feel safer in my arms, eases a tension in my gut I didn’t know was there.
To my relief, Holly shakes her head against my chest. I tilt my chin down, so I can see her face. The angle is too steep for my glasses, and they slide down my nose, almost falling off my face. Before I can reach to correct them, Holly lifts a hand and gently pushes them back into place while giving me a rueful smile.
“I’m too wound up to sleep. Could we put another movie on?”
She steps out of my hold, and the chilly cabin air stings in her place. I stoked the fire before carrying Holly to bed, so now, the room is a good ten degrees colder than earlier.
“Or … I’m sorry. You don’t have to stay up with me. You should sleep. I’ll keep the volume low.” She rubs her arms for warmth.
“No way. I’m up now, too. What are we watching?”
She grins and then chews on her lip. She casts her eyes down at her socked feet. “You pick since I’m the reason we’re up past three in the morning in the first place. Be right back.” With shuffling movements, she retreats to her bedroom.
While she’s gone, I scan the movie selection even though I pretty much have it memorized. My grandfather loved cop and heist movies. But he also had a softer side. I slide a dusty VHS off the shelf and pop out the previous one in the player.
“So, what’s it gonna be?” Holly’s back, wrapped in the blanket from her bed, settling on the couch. She looks adorable, engulfed in the large quilt, her short brown hair mussed, an embarrassed flush lingering on her cheeks.
“You’ll see. I figured we’d take a break from the action movies.”
Holly pretends to pout, sticking out her bottom lip.
I want to bite it.
Then, surprising me in the most enticing way, she opens her arms, unwrapping the blanket from herself. “Get in here before we both freeze.”
With an invite like that, I don’t hesitate. Taking a chance, I wrap my arms around her waist and lean back on the armrest, pulling her with me. She squeaks in surprise but doesn’t resist.
Once I’m reclined on the couch, Holly rests mostly on top of me, the quilt fully covering us both. I keep my arms loose for her to escape if she wants to. After a second of stiffness, she relaxes, snuggling in closer and laying her head on my chest.
