a Touch of Ice Read Online Free PDF Page A

faces.
    “Sorry.” I cleared the wobble from my throat. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I’m fine. It was a déjà vu moment. Took me by surprise.”
    Mitch raised an eyebrow. “Not buying it.”
    “It was another vision, wasn’t it?” Violet, completely ignoring my need for privacy about the weirdness going on in my life. Which was really strange because Violet never slipped up like that. Could keep a confidence better than anyone I’d ever met. Except this time. Must be she was more worried than she’d let on.
    “Same one.” No point trying to pretend now that she’d blabbed my darkest secret. “Me dying in my rocking chair, caught somewhere between current time and old age. And…the dead guy.”
    “You’re psychic? That’s what’s going on here? I know you’re not nuts. Too much intelligence behind the eyes for you to be mentally off.” Mitch pushed the muffin closer to me. “Eat. I hear visions are physically draining. Did a story on psychics in college.”
    Bloody hell, he believed in psychics. Maybe. Just because he knew stuff didn’t mean he believed. I sagged against the back of the chair, trying to get a read on his feelings. Not that I was clairvoyant or anything. More like kinesthetically odd, but maybe he’d accept—well, at least understand—my touch phenomenon. Even my parents never got it. Violet accepted it, trusted me, and I knew she’d back me up. But her work demanded a paper trail, one that could be followed in court, and my ESP fingers didn’t transfer well to legal documentation. “I’m not psychic. Not in the way most people think of it.”
    One heavy, brown eyebrow lifted in a perfect arch.
    “Really. I’m not. This vision thing happened for the first time yesterday in the middle of a client session, and I have no idea—”
    “You know exactly why, Everly Gray.” Violet nudged my foot under the table, a get-with-the-program warning. “You’ve explained it to me several times already this morning. It’s time for you to get out of the house and actually live your life.”
    Laughter twinkled behind Mitch’s eyes. “Don’t get out much, huh? Maybe I can help with that.”
    Embarrassment heated my chest, warmed my ears. Damn.
    “Couldn’t help but overhear your discussion with Violet about a potential apple pie. So happens it’s my favorite, too.” He tapped my coffee mug with his index finger. “And cinnamon. Another of your favorite things?”
    “Most definitely.” I lifted my shoulders in what I hoped was an aloof, sophisticated shrug. No point in denying my love for cinnamon since he watched me sprinkle it over the whipped cream topping my latte.
    “I have a source for homemade cinnamon ice cream. Bet it would go well with fresh apple pie.”
    Violet buried her grin with a sip of coffee, and gave my foot another nudge. Clearly I was supposed to invite him over for apple pie. Right. A first. My mouth, already primed with excitement at the idea of homemade cinnamon ice cream, spilled out a bunch of words. “Maybe we should get together and—”
    “Sounds like a plan. You work on Sunday?”
    “Sometimes. Not tomorrow.” Was that me? Agreeing to a date?
    “I’ll give you a call to set up a time.” He waited expectantly, fingers hovering over the keys. Violet rattled off my phone number before I could catch my breath. Smooth, Everly. Way to impress a guy with your tongue-tied sophistication.
    I had a date. With a man who knew about psychics. And dead bodies.

Four

    Violet was perched on one of my high kitchen chairs, sunlight bouncing off the white walls and dancing on her blonde curls. Her fingers were busy drawing squigglies in the condensation on her glass of sweet tea. “Are you having another vision, or is that blank look because you’re lusting after Mitch’s body?”
    “Neither, actually.” I took a long swallow of my Diet Coke, stalling because there was an element of truth in the lust part of her question. I shook it off. “I agree with