Yes, he had yearned for a home to belong to. In the past three days though, he’d grown fonder of Cassie than of the house itself. She’d become so captivated by her design, she hadn’t noticed his best efforts to show his presence. He never before cared whether the people around him remained ignorant to the fact their house was haunted. Now, he wanted Cassie to notice him— craved for her to acknowledge his existence. In the last few days, he’d turned the lights on and off while she read in his chaise, moved her glass while she ate dinner, and even banged his feet against the floor to gain her attention. Either she did her best to ignore him or continued to be oblivious. His patience had dimmed days ago. Ethan stood by the bathroom door, not moving until the shower turned off. He might be desperate, but he was not a pervert. Privacy wasn’t a luxury, but a given right. The bathroom door stood ajar. He cleared the doorway and froze mid-stride. He should turn away, leave Cassie alone.
