GHOST OF A CHANCE, a paranormal short story Read Online Free PDF Page A

where the jetty ended and a wall of rocks rose from the water and onto the shore.  Sand turned to grass as the property sloped upward toward the boathouse.
    Peering at Peter, she pointed to the boathouse. “Can we look inside?”
    “We have the run of the entire property for the weekend, so hopefully they’ve left that open for us as well.”
    Together, they ambled together to the door of the building.  A shiny new padlock hung from a rusty latch hasp, but it was unlocked.  They removed it and swung open the heavy doors to reveal the equipment within.  An assortment of old chains, ropes, oars, and life preservers adorned the walls.  In the center of the space, a wooden rowboat lay upside down across two sawhorses.  Beside it on a small boat lift was a sixteen foot skiff painted a dark grey and sporting an outboard engine.
    Peter and Tracy walked around the skiff and as they did so, Tracy wondered aloud, “It’s the right age and color for a rum-runners’ skiff.”
    Peter climbed onto a cinder block beside the boat and examined a brownish stain along the top edge.  “Could be blood or rust.  Seems like your theory is coming together.”
    Tracy scooted onto the block and peered at the large blotch also.  “I’m surprised it’s been there all that time and no one ever wondered what it was.”
    “Doubting yourself now?” he said. She lost her balance briefly and he eased his arm around her waist to keep her steady.  The action brought her flush to him.
    His body was all lean muscle and totally tempting.  Too tempting.  Considering what had happened earlier in the parlor, her emotions were a jumble.  Was what she was feeling her own desire?  Or was it truly possible that the ghosts of Anna and Francis had dropped by for a visit, leaving behind the attraction between them?
    Slowly stepping back down to the floor of the boathouse, she said, “Sometimes you need to step back and reanalyze to see if what’s before your eyes is actually real.”
    Peter would have to be a fool not to realize the double meaning behind her words.  He had the same hesitation about what he was feeling for her, although in retrospect, he had been drawn to her even before the possible visitation by their ghostly visitors.  Taking a step closer, he bent his head until his lips were barely an inch from hers.
    “This seems all too real to me,” he whispered.
    Her lips were soft, and slightly cold, from the nip of the earlier breeze.  They warmed quickly beneath his and as her eyes drifted down, she appeared to lose her earlier reluctance.  Her mouth was fluid against his as she met his kiss, opened her mouth to taste him.
    He groaned at that touch of her tongue along his lips, and slipped his hands to her waist.  Grasping the slim lines there, he drew her near, loving the brush of her ample breasts against the wall of his chest.  Feeling himself harden as her softness cradled him.
    It feels so right, Tracy thought as she kissed him, opening her mouth to his.  She danced her tongue along the perfect edge of his lips as he tightened his hold on her and brought her body to rest against him.  There was no missing his desire and she rubbed her hips along his in invitation.
    When he raised his hand and cradled her breast, she sighed with pleasure at his tender caress.  Leaned into him as he circled the tight peak of her nipple with his fingers before tweaking it into a harder nub.
    The loud clang of something metallic broke them apart just moments before a strong gust of wind whirled around them.  Peter drew her tighter and tucked her head close to his chest against the cold blast of air.  The breeze was powerful enough to rattle the metal chains and knock one of the oars to the ground.  As it stirred around them for one last whirl, it whipped Tracy’s hair across his face.
    And then, just as quickly as it had kicked up, the wind died down.
    Peter smoothed Tracy’s hair as she looked up at him.  “That was weird.”
    “It