Page 2

Chapter 2

Alex

S now swirled outside the window of A Likely Story and I groaned out loud.

“Oh, come on. It’s nearly April already!” I whined, and Raina laughed.

“You’ve been back here for almost seven years now, Alex. It’s springtime in the mountains; we could still get a blizzard between now and May.”

“You’d better knock on wood. Don’t put that out in the universe,” I warned. “Just because I’m used to it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

She just rolled her eyes. “It’s barely coming down. It probably won’t even stick. Now sit down, eat your lunch, and tell me about this idea you had.”

With one last glare at the offending snowflakes, I put down the water bottle I’d gone to retrieve and settled on my comfy stool behind the counter at my bookstore. Raina sat beside me, unpacking the lunch her girlfriend had made. In exchange for books, Camille fed me almost daily, except on my days off or whenever Donovan joined me for lunch. He and his partner had gotten called out to help with an accident on the highway outside town, leaving me to my own devices for the afternoon.

“I already told you about Drag Story Hour, right?”

“Yep. You wouldn’t shut up about it after you and Donovan got back from Denver, remember?”

“I mentioned it twice,” I grumbled, ignoring her teasing smile. “Anyway, if Camille’s friend is still interested, could you pass along my number?”

“I’ll let her know. We’ll advertise at the shop, too, once you set the dates. I bet Mr. Delaney would bring his kids and spread the word if we asked.”

Julian Delaney’s twins, Evie and Arlo, were two of Raina’s favorite customers, and mine as well. They were turning four this year and two of the politest kids I’d ever met. Cutest, too, and they knew it.

“Perfect. I appreciate you.” I paused long enough to bite into the chicken salad sandwich she’d brought. Camille had been experimenting with the idea of serving lunch at the coffee shop and I was her more than willing taste-tester.

“Good?”

“Perfect. You guys are the reason I’ll never be skinny, you know.” The sandwich had come with a freshly baked brownie and my usual brown sugar cinnamon latte, made by Raina.

“You’re cuddly,” she shrugged. “I bet Donovan appreciates it.”

“Okay, moving on.”

Raina laughed, always enjoying a chance to tease, but she did gesture for me to continue.

“Anyway, I was thinking that I could do something for adults at the shop, too. A kid story hour will draw in parents, but there’s really not a whole lot to do in town for adults outside the seasonal events and festivals.”

“True. Lack of a nightlife is a downside to small-town living,” she agreed. Lowery’s Crossing all but shut down after nine most nights. Most businesses closed, except for the two bars in town. There was one movie theater, with only one screen, and the owner preferred to play moves from the 70’s and 80’s. It could be fun, but after a while, the novelty wore off.

“Exactly. So I actually had a few ideas I wanted to run by you.” I flipped open the notebook I kept by the cash register and pulled out a pencil. “One idea was pretty straightforward. I was thinking about hosting a book club once a month.”

“I bet Mrs. Sharper would run it for you. She runs her euchre club like a mafia don.”

“She’s also the biggest gossip this side of the Mississippi,” I pointed out. “Maybe not the best idea, in case I have to leave in the middle of a meeting because of… reasons.” Raina knew my secret, as did Camille and Will, but talking about it still felt strange. Even saying the word ‘ghost’ out loud still made me squirm.

“Ooh, good point,” she winced. “It’s a good idea, though. We can see who turns up, then see if anyone volunteers to head it up?”

I made a note of it next to the entry in the notebook. “Okay, the next idea was kind of similar, but not really.”

“Helpful.”

“Raina…”

“Sorry, sorry. Continue, please.” She sipped at her coffee with an innocent smile that I didn’t believe for a second.

“I thought a themed event could be kind of fun, and less commitment than a book club. Like, one of those murder mystery things where everyone dresses up and they have to find the clues and all that.” I’d actually found the idea on a book forum and immediately wanted to dismiss it, given the events in my life, but the enthusiastic replies had made me grudgingly consider it.

“Are you sure about that?” Raina asked quietly. I must not have kept my expression as even as I’d hoped.

“I saw it online and everyone said it sounded amazing. Honestly, I was thinking I’d maybe ask Will if he wanted to host it, or maybe another officer. Ginny Lake is a regular here. Maybe she’d be interested?”

“Just because it’s a popular idea, doesn’t mean you have to do that theme. We could brainstorm other ideas that are a little less triggering.”

“I’m that obvious?”

“Only because you’re my best friend. You went through some serious shit, Alex. You don’t need to relive any of that just to boost sales. There are a ton of other things you could do.”

“I’ll put a pin in that one,” I agreed quietly. It was a good idea, despite my hesitations, so hearing someone else agree that I should wait gave me that validation I didn’t know I’d needed. “The others are simpler, mainly themed events around holidays or coinciding with popular books. I’d planned to ask you and Camille if I could hire you to do food and drinks, just easy snacks and stuff.”

“Like we’d say no to you. Cami used to cater, so that’s no problem, and I can relive my bartender days from college.” From her grin, Raina was even more excited about doing it than I was.

“Only if you promise to go light. I’d like my bookstore to be standing at the end of the night,” I warned.

“Spoilsport. I’d pay you to let me get Mr. King drunk. Lord knows he needs it.”

Mr. King was the local grump in town, the stereotypical ‘you kids get off my lawn’ kind of guy. Despite only being in his forties, he acted like a crotchety old man to anyone who caught him on a bad day, which seemed to be most days. He’d lived in Lowery’s Crossing his whole life and he’d been like that even back in his twenties, back when I’d been a scared preteen.

“He’d never show up to anything social and he definitely wouldn’t get drunk,” I reminded her. “The only time he willingly goes around people is when he shops at the farmer’s market.”

“Good point. Okay, no getting anyone trashed,” she agreed with a sigh. “It sounds like you’ve got some solid ideas, though. Cami and I are happy to help.”

“I love you, even though you’re mean to me all the time.”

“It’s how I show affection.” Raina ruffled my hair, laughing when I squawked in protest and pulled away.

“Come on, my hair is bad enough on a good day. I swear I’m going to shave it someday.”

“You’d look like Mr. Potato Head. Don’t do that to Donovan. Speaking of which…”

I took a big bite of my sandwich, knowing that whatever came out of her mouth next would be something evil. She was my best friend in the entire world and I adored her, but that smile did not bode well.

“I couldn’t help but notice that Donovan’s car has been in your driveway every morning for the last week.”

Yep, she was evil.

I took my time chewing the bite, but she waited me out, elbow resting on the counter and a sweet-as-honey smile on her face.

“Why are you noticing my driveway? You can’t see it from Buns ‘n’ Roses,” I said instead of answering. They lived in a sunny loft apartment over the shop, so if she wasn’t bluffing, that meant she was just being nosy.

“We like to go for a walk in the mornings before we start work,” Raina shrugged.

I side-eyed her. “You two start working at like three in the morning. Who goes out walking that early?”

“Says the man who went out walking at three in the morning with the ghost of an old woman?”

“Ugh. Fair point. But at least I had a reason.”

“If we don’t go outside before we start prepping for the day, we don’t get fresh air until one of us brings you food. Besides, it’s kind of nice to walk around town when it’s quiet and everyone else is asleep.”

“From anyone else, that would sound kind of creepy.”

“But it’s from me, so it’s adorable. Now stop avoiding the question.”

“You didn’t ask me a question. You made a statement.”

Raina reached over and lightly tugged a lock of hair. “Alex, come on. I need the details!”

I batted her hand away and stalled by taking another long, slow sip of coffee, mostly just to make her groan. She was my best friend, so of course I’d tell her, but like a true best friend, I’d torture her just a little bit first.

“Yes, Donovan’s car has been in my driveway every morning.”

She waited, eyebrows raised, but I just smiled and drank my coffee. I did pull my sandwich a little closer, though, in case she decided to throw it at my head. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.

“I swear, you are so lucky I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.”

“Jerk,” she muttered. “Alright. So, does that mean that Donovan has stayed the night at your house every night for the last week, then?”

Not even my coffee cup could hide the smile that came with the memory of the last week. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Don’t give me any dirty details, but that’s awesome!” Raina’s smile matched mine and she leaned in a little closer. “Well, if you wanted to share a few details…”

Laughing, I pushed her away. “Not happening. It’s been nice, though. I’m still getting used to waking up with someone, but… yeah. It’s nice.” Really, though, ‘nice’ didn’t even begin to cover it.

“Have you guys talked about maybe moving in together yet?”

“We’ve only known each other since the beginning of October,” I reminded her. “That’s a little fast, isn’t it?”

“I’m hardly the best judge of that. Camille and I moved in together after like four dates.”

“Way to downplay lesbian stereotypes,” I teased, and she just rolled her eyes. “That was different circumstances, though. She needed a place to stay while she settled in town. Donovan already has his own place. He rents that little house down on Columbus Avenue, remember?”

“You should tell him he’s wasting that rent money. How often does he actually ever use that house?”

“He does his laundry there sometimes.” More often, I just tossed his dirty clothes in the washer with mine, something neither of us commented on other than a quiet ‘thank you’ from Donovan when he found his clothes folded neatly in the drawer I’d cleared for him.

“Just admit it. You two live together now.”

“It’s only been six months,” I protested, but it sounded weak even to my own ears. I didn’t even know why I was arguing it, but it just felt like I should. “It’s too soon… isn’t it?”

Raina sighed softly and turned on her stool so she faced me directly, so I did the same. She took the cup from me, put it on the counter, and took both my hands in hers. “Alex. I’m your best friend and I love you.”

“That’s not at all dire.”

“Hush. Now, I know you have your reasons for being anxious about this, and I get it. Before I met Camille, I was the poster child for toxic relationships.” She gave my hands a little squeeze. “Fuck what anyone else has to say about your relationship. Donovan seems like one of the good ones.”

“He really is. I keep expecting him to help an old lady across the street or rescue a kitten out of a tree.”

“Exactly. How long did it take you to know for sure that you loved him?”

I did a quick mental tally in my head. “Barely two months. But we were seeing each other nearly every night, so we had time to get to know each other.”

“You don’t have to defend yourself to me or to anyone, Alex,” Raina said. “When you know, you know. Why do you think I asked Camille to stay with me so quick? I knew by the end of our third date that she was the one for me. My point is, you do what’s right for you and Donovan, not some arbitrary timeline made up by society.”

The words hit like a sledgehammer, which is what she’d likely intended. I had been judging my relationship with Donovan on what other people would think, hadn’t I? Even after I’d met his mom a few months ago and she’d said nearly the exact same thing Raina was saying now, I was still hesitating. What was wrong with me? Here I’d managed to find an amazing man who put up with my weird psychic bullshit and I was dragging my feet?

Something squirmed in my chest, a dark little ball of anxiety that only grew with every self-doubt and fear I fed it. I ruthlessly squashed it down, taking a deep breath and hoping I could hide it from Raina when I looked up at her.

“That was romance movie-worthy. You should be a motivational speaker.”

“I will throw that chicken salad sandwich at your face.”

Success, then. I laughed, and she laughed along with me, giving me time to lock down the negative thoughts.

“Thanks, Raina.” I let out a slow breath. “I’ll talk to him about it soon.”

“Don’t let me influence your relationship too much, either, much as it pains me to say it. Don’t do it if you’re not ready, but at least remember that I’ve got your back, no matter what.”

“I’ll do it when the time is right,” I agreed, and it only felt a little bit like a lie. “So, can I finish my lunch now?”

Raina laughed, finally releasing my hands. “You are such a brat. Yes, finish eating. I need to get back and relieve Cami, anyway, so she can take a break and go feed Will.”

“You know that Will, Donovan, and I can get food, right? You two don’t have to feed us every day. Not that I’m complaining,” I added quickly, in case she took it to mean I didn’t want Camille’s food every day. I could cook, but not anywhere close to what Camille made.

“We like doing it,” she shrugged. “Besides, where else would we find three willing test subjects for our recipes?”

“Just… no more gross stuff, please?” I’d learned the hard way exactly what ‘Rocky Mountain oysters’ were and now looked up any food they brought me that I didn’t immediately recognize.

“We got those at a discount from our supplier and had to at least see if anyone was interested,” Raina said with an apologetic wince.

“That’s a hard ‘no’ on those, but a definite ‘yes’ on the chicken salad. You can tell Camille that it’s delicious and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Raina laughed, then said her goodbyes and headed back to work. Weekday mornings at the bookstore were always slow, so once she was gone, I was left alone with my thoughts and, despite my best efforts, the doubts and anxiety came bubbling back to the surface, making my stomach churn.

The rest of my lunch went uneaten.

***

The bell over the door jingled at ten after five on the dot, as it almost always did these days. I didn’t even have to look up to know who had arrived, and I started smiling immediately.

“Hey,” Donovan’s warm voice greeted me as he came around the counter, leaning in and kissing me when I looked up at him.

“Hey,” I hummed. I’d just seen him this morning as we were getting ready for the day, but I took another moment to just stare because… damn. With his olive skin, golden brown hair, and impossibly dark eyes, Donovan Parker was easily one of the most attractive men I’d ever met. He wore nice slacks and a button-up for work most days and when he shrugged off his coat, I saw that he’d rolled up the sleeves to bare his forearms.

I would never understand why he’d chosen me, of all the people in town, to take a liking to. Working at the bookstore was a pretty sedentary job, so between that and Camille’s pastries, I desperately needed to hit the gym. I’d never been a particularly fit guy, but since coming to Lowery’s Crossing, I’d gained weight. My hair was always too long, I was always pale, and none of that was even taking into account the whole ‘seeing ghosts’ thing. Donovan could have had anyone in town, but he’d chosen me for some reason, so I’d do whatever I could to keep him.

“How’s the day been?” He took up the stool Raina had vacated hours ago, facing me.

“Slow, as usual. Mrs. Denton bought out half the self-help section, but I was too afraid to ask why. I get the feeling Mr. Denton is going to be sleeping on the couch soon, though, if he’s not already.”

Donovan laughed. “Until I met you, I never realized how much you could learn about someone just by their reading choices.”

“Aunt Lizzie used to let me sit behind the counter when I was feeling more social and she’d spin all kinds of stories for me. She knew just about everything that happened in town and we used to try to guess why someone was buying a certain book,” I admitted wistfully. I missed her still, but time had dulled the sharp edges of my grief, allowing me to remember her and smile.

“One of these days, you really have to let me see her photo albums. I want to see little teenager Alex.”

“No, you really don’t. I was completely hopeless at thirteen,” I grimaced. “I mean, I’m not much better now, but—”

“Nope.” Donovan cut me off, shaking his head. “No putting yourself down on my watch.”

I rolled my eyes and it took a real effort not to smile. “Just telling the truth.”

“You, Alex Copeland, are anything but hopeless. You’re smart. Kind. Funny. And you’re gorgeous.” He leaned in, punctuating each word with a little kiss until my face burned.

“Okay, okay, no more self-deprecating. You win. Now stop complimenting me,” I conceded, squirming in my seat. “I think that qualifies as a form of torture.”

Donovan laughed again and stole another kiss. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.”

“Or you could not do that and you can take this.” I reached under the counter and pulled out the book I’d ordered for him. He took it and looked at the cover, a smile soft and warm as the sunrise spreading across his face. He was always an attractive man, but when he looked at me like that, my breath caught and I remembered all over again how much I loved him.

“You noticed what I’ve been reading?”

I nodded, giving myself a moment to remember how to speak. “Yeah. You looked like you were close to finishing the first one the other day, so I went ahead and got the next one, in case you wanted to read it.”

Since we’d started officially dating, Donovan had been spending his evenings at A Likely Story with me. I ran the shop alone from 10:00 to 7:00 most days. Since Donovan got off work at 5:00, unless he was on an urgent case, there were two hours between our quit times, which meant we only got a few hours to spend together each night. Donovan had solved that problem by coming here after work and hanging out.

At first, we’d just talked about our days and ourselves and each other, getting to know each other more. After one particular evening where I’d gotten a bit worked up about a new book that’d come out that I’d adored, Donovan had asked to borrow it. For the next three days, he’d come in, given me a kiss, and curled up in a cozy armchair nearby, devouring the book. That had become our new routine, and Donovan claimed I’d turned him into a bookworm. I was okay with that.

“You sat there trying to convince me that you’re not perfect, when you ordered me a book just so I wouldn’t have to wait to keep reading it?” He shook his head, still smiling.

“It’s not a huge deal or anything, I just…” I shrugged, fiddling with the hem of my sweatshirt. It was an older one, emblazoned with the store’s logo on the front, and the edges were ragged from years of me picking at them.

Donovan noticed, of course. He always noticed. He placed the book on the counter, then took my hands in his.

“I appreciate it. I did finish the last one yesterday,” he said, and I could have kissed him for not trying to heap on praise or anything right now. “I’m going to settle in while you wrap up, okay?”

“Okay. It’s my night to make dinner. What sounds good?”

“I can think of something,” he murmured, his dark eyes looking me up and down and leaving me squirming in my chair.

Closing time couldn’t come fast enough.