Brandon's Very Merry Haunted Christmas (A Snow Globe Christmas Book 11)

by AJ Sherwood

  So, in other words, I should never go to his family reunions because I’d end up murdering several people. Got it. “I can see why you’re not eager to go back to Opelousas, then.”

  “That’s definitely one of the reasons.” He gave me one of those shy smiles that gets to me every time. “You really want to tell them we’re dating?”

  “You’re well worth bragging about,” I responded, mostly to keep that smile on his face.

  Mack outright grinned before snuggling back into me. “You say sweet things. I think I’ll keep you.”

  God, yes, please. “Speaking of, and this isn’t the sex talking—and you don’t need to give me an immediate answer—but I want you to think about requesting me as a formal work partner.”

  His head popped up again, and this time he looked exasperated. “Excuse you, I work this hard to get you, and you think I’m going to willingly work with some other random guy? Of course I’m requesting you as a work partner. I’m not teaming up with any other person while I’m dating you.”

  So we were on the same page? Excellent. “Okay.”

  “Ridiculous man,” he huffed, relaxing again. “In fact, I’ll request a temporary transfer to stay in Nashville while you finish up your training.”

  “That’s more than okay by me. I hate dating long distance.”

  “Yeah, me too. Well, I’ve never tried it, but just the concept of trying that with you gives me the heebie jeebies, so no.”

  It wasn’t really the words, it was the tone. He was saying something else, but I wasn’t sure if I’d caught it. “You worried about other people flirting with me?”

  “Well, you’re walking sex on legs,” Mack drawled sarcastically, “so yes? Yes, I rather am.”

  “Awww. Thanks.”

  “…You totally just didn’t take that seriously.”

  “Well, I mean, I’m not blind. I am attractive, but most people find me intimidating. I don’t actually get a lot of romantic attention. I’m more worried about people flirting with you.”

  Mack ruminated on that for about a full second. “Yeah, no, that didn’t make sense. Everything you just said didn’t make sense. First of all, you’re not attractive, okay? You’re damn sexy. Are the people around you fucking blind?”

  I laughed, the sound low in my chest, because this reaction both pleased and amused me.

  “Second of all, why the hell would you worry about people flirting with me?”

  “’Cause you’re too cool,” I told him, enjoying his spluttering. “You’re a medium, you’re cute as hell, and you can really cook. When people learn all of that about you, I’m going to have to beat them off.”

  Mack didn’t just raise his head, he lifted himself up completely to straddle my hips, hands on my chest. He stared at me as if he wasn’t sure whether I was teasing or not. I wasn’t, and I met his eyes levelly, hoping he could see that. The environment he’d been raised in didn’t let him see himself clearly—see just how amazing he was. But it hurt my heart that he didn’t think of himself as sexy when he really was.

  His light brown eyes were suspiciously bright, and he had to clear his throat before he spoke. “So we both think the other’s too sexy for words. That works out well.”

  “Does, doesn’t it?” I agreed. I’d let him tease now, take things to a lighter note. “Do you want to cuddle some more then go get dinner?”

  “Yeah.” Mack snuggled back in, both of my arms around him. He lay there, all content and warm, for a full minute before something occurred to him, and he swore. “Dammit.”

  “What?”

  “Jon’s going to take one look at us and know, isn’t he?”

  “Yup,” I said, popping the p.

  “And he’s going to tease us, isn’t he?”

  “I’d give that fair odds,” I said, not bothered.

  “Well, hell.” Mack sighed, already resigned. “More sex to make it worth it?”

  I immediately rolled, putting him underneath me. Above his parted lips, I breathed, “You read my mind.”

  10

  I waited outside the hotel restaurant as Brandon went in to check the menu for me. I truly didn’t understand what I’d done right in life to get Brandon Havili, but I made note to say a few prayers of gratitude tonight. I still didn’t get what about me drew his attention. His sincerity, though, I trusted that. He truly did look at me and see someone amazing. Someone sexy. If we didn’t already have a ghost hunt planned for tonight, I felt absolutely certain he wouldn’t have let me out of bed.

  Brandon said he’d never had sex with a man before. I believed him, as he was hesitant enough to make it obvious this was a first for him. But god, the man was a fast learner. I couldn’t wait to try anal with him.

  The image of being under him, filled by him, consumed my mind, and I went off into dreamland. Wow, what a lovely image. Dammit, why didn’t I have lube handy to turn it into reality?

  “Bit of drool there,” a light tenor voice told me.

  I automatically reached up to wipe at the corners of my mouth then realized it was Jon—and he was laughing. I turned to track him as he came down the stairs smirking, and in a very mature move, I stuck my tongue out at him. “Thanks a lot.”

  He came down the rest of the way, blue eyes sparkling with humor. A bit of concern hovered in his expression, though, his brows drawn together.

  I didn’t know why he looked at me like that. “What?”

  “I’m saying this because I’ve experienced it myself. As amazing as it is to have him, the Havilis are a bit…overwhelming. Sometimes it’s not until well after the fact that your emotions properly catch up.”

  I felt like I was missing something, some history, and made a mental note to ask later. Now didn’t seem the right time for it. “Other way around, Jon. I pursued him.”

  His brows rose a little. “Did you?”

  “Yeah. Why are you surprised by that? You told me to.”

  “I told you to flirt with him, and people aren’t always smart enough to take my advice.” Jon cocked his head at me and thankfully kept his voice to a confidential murmur as people passed us in the lobby. “Brandon asked Donovan for advice on how to flirt with you, so I assumed he’d made a move.”

  “Sort of? He kept giving me interested signals, but he was shy about doing anything.” Then again, I was the first man he’d wanted enough to flirt with. And it had to be odd to be thirty-something and figuring out how to flirt all over again.

  “Hmm.” Jon accepted this with a slow nod. “I suppose I should have expected that. Still, I’m glad you two connected.”

  “Not as glad as I am,” Brandon said as he appeared from the dining room, carrying a paper menu in his hand. He’d gone ahead of me to see if the hotel kitchens could accommodate my food allergies. Passing me the menu, he said, “Anything with a star on it is safe for you to eat, or they can easily make it safe.”

  I flipped through the trifold menu and noted I had a good eight choices to pick from, which was excellent. “Great, I like these options. Let’s eat here.”

  “If you’re eating here, text Donovan,” Jon requested of Brandon. “He was debating on what to do for dinner.”

  “Sure.” Brandon pulled out his phone and typed in a message.

  “That way you can tell him you’re dating.”

  “Yes, yes.” Brandon didn’t look up from the screen. “Says he’s coming down.”

  The hostess showed us to a table, and by the time we settled around it, Donovan had entered the dining room. It felt different, somehow, seeing him and Jon. Because my relationship with Brandon had changed, it felt like it had changed with the other two men as well. They weren’t just people I’d meet and separate from. I’d be around them, get a chance to make friends with them. I looked forward to it.

  Brandon gave his brother a full two seconds to sit and get comfortable before informing him, “Mack and I are dating now.”

  Donovan froze and darted a look between the two of us, then a smile lit up his f
ace. “Really? Good work, little brother.”

  I found that descriptor hilarious since Brandon had several inches on Donovan. “Excuse you, I was the one that did the work.”

  Donovan blinked at me, surprised. “Really? Then good work, Mack. But how are you two going to work this out?”

  “I’ll request him for a partner.” It pleased me enormously that Donovan was so obviously happy for both of us. I so rarely received acceptance for having a boyfriend that I basked in the moment. “I’m supposed to try out people anyway to find an anchor. I’ll just make sure the FBI is clear that Brandon’s my choice of partner and request a transfer to Nashville so I can work with him.”

  “Nashville doesn’t have an FBI office, though,” Donovan pointed out.

  “No, but I’m still training to be an anchor,” Brandon argued, his attention mostly on the menu. “And who better to train me than you and Mack?”

  I knew for a fact the head office wouldn’t have a problem with this. They were so anxious for any un-anchored mediums to have an anchor they bent over backwards to be accommodating.

  Our waiter came to take everyone’s order and was kind enough to parrot back my exact instructions for avoiding allergies. I felt relatively comfortable the message would be relayed and followed through with in the kitchens.

  We got to talking logistics of how and when I could get the work request through. I wasn’t sure of how it would all work, just that I wanted it to. It might mean a few weeks of bureaucracy, though. I might not be able to get over to Nashville before Brandon was done with his training and we ended up assigned somewhere else completely. I wasn’t entirely happy about this plan. My instincts and hormones wanted to keep Brandon close.

  Our food arrived before I got any sort of resolution. Dinner was light, easy, and enjoyable. It set a great tone to the evening. Afterwards, we were all at loose ends. Because we still had a little time to kill before nightfall, I stole out to a quiet corner of the second landing of the hotel and gave Beau a call.

  “You need my help after all?” my mentor answered the phone.

  “We haven’t actually started yet, so that’s an early call for me to make. But I have a question. And, um, an announcement.”

  “You and that Havili fellow decided to date?”

  I pulled the phone from my ear and stared at it suspiciously for a moment before replacing it. “Do you have me bugged?”

  Beau snorted. “That’s not much of a leap, kid. You sound smug right now.”

  “I have every right to be smug, thank you very much.” Old people knew things. Beau proved this. “Yeah, we’re dating. I want to request him as a partner. How do I do that?”

  “I’ll walk you through the request. Shouldn’t take much effort. You’ve got priority on anyone you requisition, and I’ve already submitted the paperwork to make you official.”

  Surprise rattled through me. “Already? I thought you were going to wait until after this job.”

  “What are you talking about? Job’s done. Ghost passed on, didn’t she?”

  Oh. He meant that job. I thought the ghost hunting was part of it. “Ah. Well, yeah, she did. Okay, so my request can be submitted at the same time?”

  “Sure. FBI wants its psychics and mediums to have anchors. Sooner the better. You’ll probably get approval in forty-eight hours.”

  That threw me for another mental loop because in my experience, no government agency in the world did anything quickly. “And can I request a temporary station in Nashville while Brandon finishes training?”

  “Sure. Saw a few people do that through the years. You can keep your fellow close by, Mack. Breathe.”

  I wished he was close enough to hug. “Thanks. I’m relieved to hear it. I’ll be back to the house…probably late afternoon tomorrow? I’ll just crash with Brandon here. Then we can tackle that paperwork.”

  “Fine. See you later. I don’t have to tell you to use protection, do I?”

  Rolling my eyes, I said patiently, “No, Beau.”

  “Thank fuck. Go play with your boy.” Beau hung up without any further ado.

  I truly adored that man. May he never die.

  A pair of warm arms wrapped around my shoulders and snugged me in, and I relaxed into them with a smile. Being hugged by Brandon reminded me of when I was a child and my mother would wrap a comforter straight from the dryer around me. It was warmth, and affection, and protection all in one. My instincts urged me to burrow in and not come out for a few months.

  “What’s the word?” Brandon inquired against the top of my head.

  I tilted my head toward him a little as I answered. “Beau said we have priority because of the whole medium-needs-anchor thing. He said if we’ll swing by the house tomorrow and put in the request, it should go through in forty-eight hours.”

  Brandon startled. “That fast?”

  “Like I said, priority. Beau will walk us through the paperwork tomorrow, but I have a feeling he’ll start on it tonight. He didn’t say it in so many words, but he’s really relieved I want to work with you.”

  “I’m all for speeding the process along.” Brandon digested this for a moment. “But that means in forty-eight hours or so you’ll be transferred down to Nashville, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And you’d probably choose to drive so you can keep your car with you.”

  “Yeah, probably.” I had an idea of where he was going with this. “You do remember that I drove up from Louisiana, right?”

  “No. I do remember you almost get into accidents routinely just driving around town, though. That I remember clearly.”

  Jon had warned me the Havilis could be overprotective. I think I’d just found one of Brandon’s switches. “You want to drive me back to Nashville, don’t you.”

  “I can make a really good case for insisting on it. And don’t you want company on the way over, anyway? It’s a boring drive.”

  I didn’t enjoy road trips. They oscillated between boredom and terror, depending on how many ghosts jumped out in front of my car. It’s truly a miracle I hadn’t keeled over from cardiac arrest before now. “I’m not arguing against it, you understand. I’d much prefer you with me.”

  “Then let’s do that. Jon and Donovan won’t mind if they go back alone anyway.”

  Yeah, I bet.

  Dave beckoned to us from the staircase, “You two ready? We’re about to hit lights out.”

  Duty called. Although I actually was looking forward to it. “Yup, we’re ready. Laissez les bons temps rouler. Basement?”

  “Basement,” Dave agreed, beaming.

  I rather felt like Willy Wonka leading Dave into the Ghost Factory. His delight reminded me of that, at least. We followed him down the stairs, all the way to the basement level, and discovered everyone else already there. Jon was leaning with his shoulders against a wall, putting safe distance between him and all the cameras. It occurred to me I hadn’t asked him just how much he could see of ghosts. Clearly he could see something; otherwise he wouldn’t have realized the snow globe was haunted. I joined him and asked, “How sensitive are you?”

  “To ghosts, you mean?” He canted his head and thought for a moment. “Not really. I can see general auras, but I can’t communicate with them. I can’t really read them, either. I can just get the gist of a presence.”

  Considering his ability, it was impressive he could see anything at all. “Okay. So you can at least point them in the right direction. But communication is up to me.”

  “In a nutshell, yeah.” Mischievous glint in his eye again, he added, “And I’ll borrow your boyfriend. He’s my living shield tonight.”

  “That’s fine. You’ve got your own Havili. I won’t be jealous.”

  “That I do,” Jon said with open satisfaction.

  “We ready?” Marianne called out from somewhere in the next room.

  “Ready!” we all chorused back to her.

  “Then light’s out!”

  11

  There
’s something about being in a building, in the dark, and knowing it’s haunted. Just being in a building in the dark creeped people out on a regular basis. I’d always found school campuses at night to be kinda spooky. But right now, in this hotel, with all the lights out and the real possibility something could manifest at any second? Super creepy.

  I loved it.

  We trooped down the basement stairs, and I tried not to read every creak as something ghostly moving, but it was hard. I really, really wanted something to pop out.

  Jon snickered at my side. “You are seriously so opposite of your brother in some ways. Look at you. Your inner child is literally jumping up and down and squealing in excitement.”

  I couldn’t refute it. “It’s really my bad Don’s so terrible with horror. Did he tell you that?”

  “Nooo,” Jon said in rising delight. “But do tell me.”

  “So I was maybe seven? Eight? When I was younger, I often got nosebleeds. Sometimes they were pretty alarming, ’cause I bled so much. They weren’t really serious; they just looked terrifying. So, one night I wake up and I realize I’d had a nosebleed while sleeping. I’m covered in blood. I sit up, discover I’m still bleeding, and now it’s all over my shirt, face, hands—I probably looked like a horror movie extra. And Don’s in the bed on the other side of the room, making him my closest contact for help, so I go shake him awake.”

  Jon and Mack were already snickering because they could see where this was going.

  “Yeah,” I affirmed, and it was bad of me, but I snickered too just from the memory. “He let out the most blood-curdling scream I’ve ever heard from a human being. I didn’t blame him. A blood-covered child asking for help in the dead of night? I’d scream too. But he was already uncomfortable with ghost stories before that. Afterwards?”

  “That’s terrible,” Jon said and laughed some more. “No wonder he blames you for it. He kept saying that but never would explain.”

  I shrugged because I had no defense.

  We reached the back work area, and it looked like any other basement—lots of shelves against the wall with things stacked on them. A metal locker, a deep sink that looked original to the building with a rough looking counter stretched out alongside it. It was tight quarters down here with all the random stuff that keeps a hotel operational, but we could all fit with a little room left over. The ghost hunting crew went ahead of us with their cameras and gadgets, and I kept Jon with me towards the back of the room. We could pretty much see everything—nothing blocked our view.