He finished his organic blond caffe misto—Hannah would call it pretentious, but he enjoyed the indulgence—and doodled a potential layout for his indoor marketplace. He’d have to group the alien merchandise around that damned cosmic transmitter, but he’d keep it to a few symbolic shelves of UFO junk.
What if he turned the transmitter into a fountain? Yeah, put that at the crossroads of his fake brick paths, flanked by mini shops—maybe garden sheds with cheap siding and architectural trim from a salvage yard? As soon as he got back, he’d call that Matteo guy who upcycled furniture.
Oh! And he’d name the aisles for streets in Trappers Cove—that’d please the locals, especially Hannah. Perhaps it was the fancy coffee, but his brain was buzzing and zapping with ideas. After five weeks of feeling stuck and uninspired, this felt freakin’ fantastic.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
“Mr. Anagnos?” He didn’t recognize the gruff voice.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“This is Barry Bogosian from AAA Construction. Carl Williams appointed me project manager for your reno.”
“Oh. What can I do for you, Mr. Bogosian?”
“Just Barry. Listen, uh—” Papers rattled in the background. “We’ll need to talk at your earliest convenience.”
Worry cribbled through Xander’s stomach. “I’m free now.”
“It’s better if we talk face to face. I can drive out there tomorrow. Say, ten?”
“Okay, sure.”
“Great. See you then.” The guy disconnected without further explanation.
Well, shit. This couldn’t be good news. Had the old crew filled AAA in on the ghost issue? He did not relish the idea of having to bring in Zora and explain to a bunch of hard-baked worker dudes how they’d exorcised his uncle’s restless spirit.
His phone rang again just as he climbed the wooden stairs to his hotel room. When he pulled it from his pocket, Hannah’s smiling face lit up his screen.
God bless the person who invented video calls.
He flopped onto the bed and held the phone above his grinning face. “How are you, beauty?”
She curled her lip. “Meh. Missing you. Mom’s a little better, but still groggy from the muscle relaxers. I had to send Fred and Almah out to cover stories and,” she gave a wry chuckle, “let’s just say they’re not exactly go-getters. This week’s edition is gonna be boring.”
“Wish I could help somehow.”
“Unless you know a nurse willing to work for free, there’s not much you can do.” With a sigh, she leaned back into that faded armchair beneath her window. “I hate being stuck at home. I miss your kisses, Xander.”
“Yeah?” He nestled into the pillows. “Tell me more about that.”
Her low, earthy laugh sent a zap of pleasure straight to his dick. “I miss smelling your cologne when I nuzzle you right here.” She stroked a finger over the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder. “You smell like leather and old books.”
“Mmmm. And you smell like flowers and spice. It’s addictive, that scent, just like your silky skin, your soft hair…” He sighed. “Damn, Hannah. You’re too far away. I need another hit.”
“Is that so?” Giggling, she hooked a fingertip in the neckline of her blouse and tugged, revealing the top of one creamy breast, its soft swell contained by a lacy black bra.
“Woman, you’re driving me loco.”
“Oh, is that Greek too?” she teased, running her fingertip under the black lace.
“Okay, you’re making me palavós.” His Greek was far from fluent, but he’d heard that word flung around at family dinners, especially when discussing Gus. “Show me more.”
She toyed with her buttons. “You mean, like this?” One button popped open, and her lush cleavage filled the screen.
His breath whooshed out on a moan. “Does this bra hook in the front?”
Eyes twinkling with mischief, she fingered the satin bow. The hidden clasp released, and her glorious breasts spilled out, heavy and full and begging to be sucked.
