Page 1

Chapter 1

Donovan

“T here’s a ghost in the corner by the smut table.”

I automatically glanced across the massive room, but of course I didn’t see anything there. Not surprising, really. I wasn’t the psychic in this relationship.

“I didn’t take ghosts into consideration,” I admitted. “Do you want to leave?”

When I’d first come up with the idea of taking a trip to Denver for a book-lover’s convention, it’d seemed like a great way to spend the weekend after Valentine’s Day together. I hadn’t thought about the fact that my boyfriend, Alex Copeland, could see and talk to dead people. Nor had I considered that a hotel built over two hundred years ago might just have a few dead people hanging around.

The event center bustled with authors, readers, and publishers everywhere. Tables and booths were set up where people could buy books and industry professionals could network. Alex had been wanting to do more at his bookstore, A Likely Story, and this seemed like a great chance to get some ideas and meet new people.

Alex tilted his head and I realized he was watching the ghost. He didn’t look scared or worried, which was a welcome change from the only other ghost experience I’d had with him. It had been three months since that incident, but the memory still gave me nightmares.

“I think we’re okay,” he finally said. “She’s kind of keeping to himself. I don’t think she realizes anyone can see her.” Alex paused, then chuckled. “She’s checking out the books at the sapphic romance table over there now.”

“At least she’s enjoying herself.” I wrapped my arm around Alex’s waist. “We can head somewhere else if you want to.”

He shook his head. “Thanks, but I want to keep looking. She’s just another bookworm here to enjoy the event. She can’t help that she’s dead.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Positive. Now, come on, I want to check out that big table over there.”

Alex pointed toward the east end of the convention, where it looked like several vendors had pushed their tables together to create one big unit. Standing signs in bright colors stood out among the more demure logos and the table was draped with sequined runners, cheerfully proclaiming them all as drag queens.

“Lead the way.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Keeping a firm grip on my hand so we wouldn’t get separated in the crowd, Alex guided us through like a seasoned expert, managing to avoid getting pulled into sales pitches and conversations by the various publishers we passed along the way.

“It looks like they have pamphlets. I wonder if they do drag queen story hours? That would be fun,” Alex mused as we stood behind a group of older women chatting with the vendors.

“Do we have any drag performers in Lowery’s Crossing?”

Alex shrugged. “I don’t know, honestly. There’s never been a venue for anyone who wants to try, but it might be worth putting some feelers out to see if there’s any interest. After talking to your mom about it, I really want to do more community events at the bookstore.”

When we’d gone to meet my family for a late Christmas last month, Alex and my mom had bonded immediately, just like I’d hoped. As a former teacher, my mom had given him all kinds of ideas about things that might interest both kids and parents and get them into reading.

“Have you talked to Raina and Camille about it yet? If you gave out Camille’s pastries, you’d have people lined up out the door, no matter what kind of event it is.”

“They’re already on board with any ideas I come up with. That’s why they’re my best friends,” he grinned. The crowd shifted enough for him to step up to the table and he immediately struck up a conversation with the vendor sitting there. On a normal day, Alex was the introvert of the two of us, saving his social battery for customers at his shop. Any time he got a chance to talk about books, though, he could happily go on for hours.

Space at the table was limited, so I took a small step back, allowing others to approach the table. It also gave me a rare chance to just watch Alex without him getting self-conscious. He’d already warmed to the conversation, eyes sparkling and an excited smile on his face.

Those intense green eyes had been the first thing I noticed that day in Buns ‘n’ Roses, the coffee shop I later found out was owned by Alex’s best friend, Raina. Had it really only been about six months ago?

I’d been even newer to town than I was now, only three months into my new life in Lowery’s Crossing, still trying to shake off the memories of the things I’d seen in my time with the Chicago PD. My new partner, Will Dodd, had gotten me hooked on the croissants at the shop, which was co-owned by his twin sister, Camille. I stopped in two to three times a week, enough that the baristas recognized me and knew my name.

One morning, after a long night spent investigating the death of an elderly woman named Zofia Kostek, I’d walked into Buns ‘n’ Roses and there he was. Sitting at a small table by himself, holding a massive cup of coffee, was one of the most intriguing men I’d ever seen. His overly-long brown hair had been mussed and dark shadows smudged the skin beneath his eyes, but something about him had called to me and I’d taken a chance.

Six months and one murder later, here we were. All because I’d been running late to get my morning coffee.

So much had changed since then. Alex had been kidnapped, possessed by a ghost, and shot. I’d learned that ghosts and psychics were real. We’d fallen in love and formed our own little family, consisting of us, Raina, Camille, and Will. And Alex’s fat cat, Louis, of course. Alex’s former roommate, Charlie, who also happened to be a ghost, had passed on, and I always held him a little closer on those nights when the grief hit. Time was helping to heal that wound, though, and we were slowly building our life together.

The line at the table started getting longer and Alex wound down his conversation, but not without trading email addresses with the drag queen he’d been talking to and promising to keep in touch about Drag Queen Story Hour.

His smile when he turned dazzled me, my heart clenching with just how much I fucking loved this man.

“Looks like you had fun,” I grinned. I offered my hand, but he looped his arm through mine instead. He stood just a bit taller than me, but not so much that it made it awkward to walk together. He tilted the business card toward me before putting it in his pocket, letting me see her name emblazoned on the front: Anya Marx. I had to grin.

“She had so many amazing ideas and even offered to come do story hour herself if there weren’t any local performers interested. She seemed really interested in the town, too, when I told her how surprisingly chill it is there.”

“I don’t blame her. I hear a lot of stories about how some small towns can be unwelcoming to anyone not just like them, but the Crossing really is different.”

Alex beamed at me. “Look at you, calling it ‘the Crossing’ just like a true local. I knew we’d trap you one way or another.”

“Well, what can I say? The job is good, cost of living is low, the people are nice… why wouldn’t I want to stay?”

“Those are the only reasons?” Alex poked me in the side and I had to laugh.

“Well, there’s also this bookstore I really love.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” I tugged him out of the flow of traffic and into my arms, so close our breaths mingled in the space between us. “The owner is a pretty intriguing guy.”

“Intriguing?” Alex raised a brow.

“Yep. I’ve never met anyone like him before. Honestly, I’m kind of crazy about him.”

“You only say that because you’ve never met any other psychics. Winning is easy when there’s no competition. For what it’s worth, I’m kind of crazy about you, too.” He gave me a sheepish smile. “Third person just felt awkward.”

“Agreed,” I laughed, resting my head against his. “About the third person, anyway. I fell for you before I knew anything about your ability. I knew right away that you were someone special.”

“I’m not sure ‘special’ is the word I’d use.” Alex glanced over toward the corner, where I assume the ghost was still perusing smut.

“I saw you in Buns ‘n’ Roses and there was no way I was leaving without at least talking to you. I didn’t even know if you were into men or if I was about to completely embarrass myself.”

“Donovan, dear, have you looked in a mirror lately? Even the straightest of straight men would probably give you their number.”

“Doubtful, but my ego appreciates the compliment,” I teased. “Lucky for me, you flirted back. I haven’t been that happy about someone being into men since that pop singer came out.” At his questioning look, I shrugged. “I had a crush in high school. He was my bi-awakening.”

“You are completely ridiculous.” He pressed his lips together, obviously trying to hold in a laugh.

“Maybe, but you’re the one who agreed to date me, so where does that leave us?”

“Acting like idiots in the middle of a convention center.”

I had to kiss him, and not just because I’d burst out laughing otherwise. I’d dated before, men and women, but no one had ever gotten me like Alex. Falling for him had been effortless and inevitable, from the moment he looked up at me with those gorgeous eyes and flustered smile. He still had doubts occasionally, the sometimes-literal ghosts in his past coming back to tear him down, usually on the nights his nightmares kept him awake. On those nights, I held him a little closer, reminding him that he wasn’t alone anymore and I wasn’t going anywhere. No matter how long it took, I’d keep telling him that until he believed me.

“Hey,” I murmured against his lips. The heat in his eyes when he looked at me made me want to drag him back up to our hotel room. “I really love you.”

Alex smiled, warm and soft and happy, and how could I not have fallen in love with him when he looked at me like that? “I really love you, too.” He kissed me once, twice, then broke away before we got too tangled up in each other.

I took his hand in mine, a move as natural as breathing. “Can we go check out the monster romance table? I have so many questions.”