Dahlia walked with Nicolas around the cabin to the front entrance where a new door and frame were already in place. “Do all of you have different psychic abilities?” It was much easier dealing with the men now that they were doing their best to barricade all emotions, sparing her another bombardment of energy.
“We share various talents,” Sam said, “although each of us has several and some unique only to us. For instance, Gator comes in right handy when guard dogs come running at us. He can get wild animals to turn into pets.”
Dahlia turned her head to look at Gator, who was draped against the wall looking sexy in his open shirt with his white teeth flashing and his dark hair spilling across his forehead.
Gator grinned at her. “I’m reading your thoughts, ma cher cherie.”
Nicolas pulled a knife out of his boot and studied the long blade. “She isn’t your anything, swamp man.” His voice was as cold as ice, but Dahlia dealt in energy and to her relief, Nicolas was definitely amused.
“That be the jealousy talking,” Gator said, in no way perturbed. “I can’t help the way the women love me. I was born with the gift.”
The men hooted and made rude noises. “You were born with a gift of bullshitting,” Sam pointed out, “but that’s about it.” He looked at Dahlia. “Pardon me, ma’am, but it’s the truth.”
“I rather thought it was,” she agreed.
Another roar of laughter went up. Gator clasped both hands over his heart. “Tu m’a casser le coeur, j’va jamais.”
Dahlia smirked. “I didn’t break your heart, Gator, and if I did, I’m certain you’ll recover from the blow.”
He grinned. “But French has a music all it’s own. D’accord?”
Gator could definitely melt hearts with that grin. “D’accord,” she conceded.
“Quit flirting, Gator,” Tucker said. “You’re riling up Nico. You mess with the wrong end of the crocodile and you’re going to get teeth.”
“He doesn’t look too riled to me,” Gator answered. “He looks like he’s fallen into a deep dark well and there’s no bottom in sight.”
Another roar of laughter went up. Dahlia found she was actually enjoying herself. It was a momentous moment, one she’d always remember. She was in the midst of several people for the first time in her life, laughing and conversing, and the energy hadn’t swamped her. If it never happened again, she would always be grateful to the GhostWalkers for giving her this time. “It’s such an amazing gift you’ve all given me,” she said. “I’ve never done this before. Just had a conversation with a group of people.”
“Better you picked us than anyone else,” Gator teased. “We’re all good-looking, ‘cept old stone-faced Nico there. Why trouble yourself with anybody else?”
“I don’t suppose you cook?” Tucker inquired hopefully.
“Did you think because she can start fires she’d be great with a grill?” Gator asked.
Dahlia tried not to let the color sweep up into her face, wanting to enjoy the camaraderie they were offering her. They teased and razzed one another and now extended it to her. She couldn’t object over the subject matter, as sensitive as she felt over it. She’d have to get over it around them.
“The thought occurred to me,” Tucker admitted. “I’m starving. Gator, didn’t you stash us some genuine food?”
“That wasn’t my job. I’m not the supply person,” Gator denied. ”I found shelter for us, isn’t that enough?“
Dahlia glanced up at Nicolas. He reached out and took her hand. “Don’t mind them, they’ll find something to eat. Besides, Gator never goes anywhere without food.”
“If he didn’t this time, Gator’s going to be alligator hunting,” Sam said. “I’ve heard they’re good to eat.”
Dahlia shook her head. “I’m not eating an alligator. I was raised with them. It would be like eating the family dog.”
“They are the family dogs,” Gator said, glaring at Sam. “You keep your hands off my gators. They’ve been in the family for years. If you’re all that hungry, go pick a few shrubs. There’s edible weeds on this island, you’re just too lazy to find them.”
“Can you talk to the alligators?” Dahlia asked. It suddenly occurred to her how astonishing that would be.