ETERNAL LUCK

A Ghostly Guardians Prequel

LOUISA MASTERS

Eternal Luck

Copyright © 2022 by Louisa Masters

Cover: Booksmith Design

Editor: Hot Tree Editing

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

Eternal Luck

Welcome to Mannix Estate…

Once a private country home, then a posh hotel, Mannix Estate was closed in the 1970s after a suspicious incident. In the year 2000, it was bought and revitalized by a couple who saw its potential and wanted the ghosts to rejoin the world.

This is their story.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

Also by Louisa Masters

About the Author

Chapter One

NED

1992

I shuffle forward in the line at the convenience store, my hand going slowly numb where it grips the carton of ice cream, my brain completely numb after eight hours of accounts processing. I just want to go home, become one with my couch, and watch mindless TV while eating my ice cream before I have to do it all again tomorrow.

Living the dream.

Especially since I won’t actually be able to do any of that. Except eat the ice cream. Because I have three roommates, and we share the TV. It’s highly likely that they’ll already have claimed it and the couch by the time I get home. Yay for me.

“Rocky road, huh?” a voice behind me says. “Having a rocky day?”

It takes me a second to realize he’s talking to me. I half turn to see a great-looking Latino guy with a magnetic smile and sparkling brown eyes. My facial muscles move stiffly into a hesitant smile back. It’s impossible not to.

“Uh… what?” Great job, brain. That’s definitely the way to impress the hottie. My dick, which hasn’t seen action with another person for too long to remember, desperately wants this guy to like me. Unfortunately, the rest of me has forgotten how to make that happen.

Hottie nods at the ice cream in my hand. “Bad day?”

I glance down at the frozen treat and scratch my beard as I try to think of something clever to say. “Does it count as a bad day if it’s the same as every other day?”

He winces. “Ouch.”

There’s not much I can say after that, so I just bob my head in a slow nod and return to staring at the back of the person in front of me, hating myself for not trying to flirt with him but unable to muster the energy to actually do it. Is this what my life has come to? I’m thirty-three and too tired and worn down to respond when a hot guy shows interest in me.

The line shuffles forward.

This can’t be it, right? This can’t be everything life has to offer.

The woman in front of me asks for cigarettes and a lottery ticket. Maybe that’s the solution, a way to shake things up and take a chance. After all, a smoking habit and eventual death from lung cancer would be something new and different.

Probably expensive, though. And painful. And permanent.

The cashier makes eye contact, and I realize it’s my turn. Stepping forward, I put my ice cream on the counter and mumble the standard “how you doing” greeting. He grunts in return, which in my opinion is more polite than he really needs to be, and scans the carton. As he opens his mouth to announce my total, a crazy impulse seizes me. “And I’ll have a lottery ticket,” I announce, then blink in surprise. Oh well. At least it’s cheaper than a pack of cigarettes.

He doesn’t look thrilled, but he gets the ticket for me and rings up the new total. I already have my wallet open—

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

I forgot about the candy bar I bought today in a desperate attempt to make paying invoices more interesting.

Swallowing hard, I muster a weak smile. “I, uh… I’m a dollar short.”

The cashier stares back at me, and I get the distinct feeling he wants to hit me.

“Here.” An arm reaches past me and slaps a dollar on the counter. I turn my head to meet the smiling gaze of the hottie.

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“It’s my good deed for the day,” he says, holding eye contact. “I always wanted to be someone’s knight on a charger.” Heat rises in my cheeks.

The cashier clears his throat.

Snapping back to the reality that I’m holding up the line, I hurriedly hand over my cash and grab my purchases, then hover awkwardly while my rescuer pays for his milk. This gives me the chance to check him out properly, and I’m not mad at what I see. He’s only a few inches shorter than my stupid height, for starters. His jeans hug muscular thighs and a tight ass, and the polo shirt with a construction company logo reveals mouth-watering forearms. His dark hair is cut short, but I get the feeling it would curl if it was allowed to. All that combined with his killer smile and obviously sunny nature seems to be a sign from the universe that I’ve done something right lately.

Wish I knew what it was.

He finishes up, and we walk toward the door.

“Thank you,” I say awkwardly. “So much. Uh, I want to pay you back.”

“Dinner on Friday?” he asks immediately. “I’m Carlos, by the way.”

“Ned,” I say automatically. “Wow, it’s a new low when a date with me is only worth a dollar.” I stop dead. Fuck my life. “I mean… wouldn’t you rather have your money back?”

Jesus fucking Christ, what is wrong with me? This guy is into me, and I somehow managed to fuck it up beyond recognition.

And then, as we step out onto the street, Carlos laughs. It’s not a mean laugh, or a disbelieving or shocked one. He seems genuinely amused… by me. Which is a little scary.

“I’m not usually this big of an ass,” I confess, not ready to let go of him just yet.

“I like asses,” he replies, winking. “And I think you’re cute.”

I’m blushing again, I just know it.

“So… dinner Friday?”

“Yes,” I say before I have time to talk myself out of it. “But I’m still going to pay you back the dollar.”

He shakes his head. “I won’t take it.”

“Then the lottery ticket is half yours. If I end up winning like ten bucks or whatever, we split it.”

He purses his lips, thinking it over. “How about this: if the ticket wins ten bucks or whatever, we use the winnings to pay for our second date.”

“Deal.” I stick out my hand for him to shake, slightly giddy that he might want a second date with me before we even go on the first one.

“Deal.” He takes my hand, but instead of shaking it, he pulls me closer, leans up, and brushes a light kiss on my lips. “Now it’s sealed.”

“Sealed,” I repeat like an idiot.

He hands me a business card, then asks me for my number and writes it down on the back of another. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promises. I watch him walk away and wonder how my day could have gone from total shit to this in just the blink of an eye.

“Your ice cream’s melting,” he calls back over his shoulder, and I yelp and jerk back to reality—and the dripping carton in my hand—but I’m not upset.

I’m too excited about our date on Friday.

Chapter Two

CARLOS

I whistle as I get ready for my date with Viking guy—or Ned, as he’s actually called. I wonder when the right time will be to tell him I’ve been going to the convenience store at the same time every night for three weeks to see him. Probably not on the first date.

It’s not as creepy as it sounds, I swear. I’m not an organized grocery shopper, so I usually have to run to the store to grab something most days anyway. It’s just that since that first time I saw him, I’ve been timing my visit in the hopes of seeing him again. I would have asked him out sooner, but I wasn’t entirely sure if he’d be open to it or punch me in the face, and since he’s a big guy, I wanted to avoid the whole face-punching thing.

The other night, though, I finally spoke to him, and even though he was all vague and grumpy, it was obvious he liked what he saw. Not to be immodest, but I can’t really blame him—I inherited great genes from both my Mexican mother and my Scottish father. Plus, I’m a people person and usually get along with everyone. It gives me a real leg up. I was sure I could convince Viking guy—Ned—to give me a chance if he swung my way.

I call him that because he’s totally got the look—tall, solid, with shoulder-length golden blond hair he ties back in a ponytail most days. His skin is pale, though a lot of his face is hidden behind his neat blond beard. I’ve never thought beards were hot before, but Viking guy changed my mind. I want to feel that beard alllllll over me.

He’s got a perpetual gloomy frown and is a bit soft in the middle—probably because he eats a pint of ice cream every night—but those things only make me want him more. Especially now that I’ve seen him smile. It lights up his face, and I want to see it more often.

Checking my watch, I finish shaving and slap on some aftershave. I’ve got ten minutes before I have to leave, and all that’s left is to put on my shirt and shoes. Plenty of time.

As though I’ve jinxed myself, the phone rings.

“Damn it,” I mutter. There’s a chance it might be Ned, so I hurry out of the bathroom and follow the ringing sound in search of the cordless handset. My sister rolled her eyes when I bought it and seizes every opportunity to tell me what a waste of money it is, especially when it goes flat because I forget to put it on the charger and then nobody can reach me. But I like gadgets, and there’s definitely a benefit to lying on the couch or in bed with a sexy man talking in my ear.

I find the handset on the couch and snatch it up. “Hello?”

“It’s me,” my older brother says. “Wanna get a pizza?”

I exhale in relief that it’s not Ned calling to cancel. “Can’t,” I say cheerfully. “I’ve got a date.” Bringing the phone with me, I head back to the bedroom to grab my shirt.

“You do? Who with?” Rico perks up. He’s so straight, he could be a ruler, but he’s also completely supportive of me and a hardcore gossip. The second I hang up the phone, he’ll be calling everyone he knows to tell them about my date.

“Viking guy.” Yep, I do sound smug.

“No fucking way! You finally asked him out?”

“Yeah, and sorry, but I don’t have time to tell you the whole story.”

“Call me when you get home, then. I want all the details.”

I pull the handset away from my ear and stare at it, waiting for him to realize what he’s just said. Sure enough, his shout of dismay comes through a second later.

“Shit, no! That’s not what I mean. Do not tell me any of those details. It’s bad enough that we shared a room growing up. I meant I want to hear what finally made you grow a pair and ask him out.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I promise through my laughter. “I don’t know how late I’ll be tonight.”

“Sure, yeah. Have fun, and I’ll talk to you then. No, wait! What’s his name?”

“Ned,” I tell him, and just saying it out loud makes me smile.

Chapter Three

CARLOS

“…was going to be a shitty week. But it got so much better,” Ned says, flushing slightly under his beard but meeting my gaze directly. We’re finishing up dessert, and it’s safe to say this is the best date I’ve ever been on, no exceptions. The conversation hasn’t faltered once, and I’m a tiny bit in love with him already. It took him maybe fifteen minutes to get comfortable with me and move on from small talk, but his inner self is amazing.

“I’m glad to hear it. Hopefully we can make it better still.”

He swallows visibly, and my cock perks up. There’s something about his shyness that really does it for me.

A loud burst of laughter from the next table shatters the moment, and Ned picks up his water glass as someone declares, “It looked like an eight! I was so sure I’d won, but it was a stupid three with a smudge.”

One of his friends says, “I can’t believe the winner hasn’t claimed the prize yet. If I had a ticket and the news was constantly talking about a mystery winner, you can bet your ass I’d check it.”

Ned and I look at each other. There’s a mystery lottery winner? And… we have a ticket.

“I forgot all about it,” he confesses.

“I doubt we won,” I reason. I mean, what are the chances?

“Definitely,” he agrees.

Silence falls.

“But maybe we should check just so I can stop thinking about it,” he adds.

“Yes.” Because that thought that maybe we did, even just that ten bucks we talked about, is now filling my mind, and what I really want to be thinking about is Ned. “We’ll stop somewhere after dinner and see if they have any of yesterday’s papers left.” I look at the remnants of our dessert and then the anxious way Ned’s biting his lip. “Let’s go now. We can have coffee at my place.”

He releases his lip and smiles. “I’d like that.”

Out on the street, I turn in the direction of my place. It’s only a fifteen-minute walk, and the night is nice. We stroll along, murmuring about inconsequential things, our hands brushing against each other’s. I want to hold his, but I’m not sure if he’s comfortable with that or not.

Catching sight of a store just ahead, I nudge him in that direction. Hopefully they’ll have yesterday’s paper.

Inside, Ned glances around and then grabs my arm. “Uh, do we need anything here?”

I blink. Has he forgotten already? “Yesterday’s paper?”

“Oh, no, um… anything else.” A wave of color slowly rises behind his beard, and his meaning clicks.

“No, we’re good,” I assure him. I want to tease, but the poor guy’s embarrassed enough, and I don’t want to risk having him change his mind. “I’ve got what we need.”

He nods. “Great. Good. I’m just gonna…” He gestures toward the chips, and I let him go. He’s so freaking adorable.

We’re the only customers in the store, and the clerk looks up with a bored expression when I approach the register.

“Hey, do you have any of yesterday’s paper still?” I ask.

She sighs. “Lottery numbers?”

Oh-kay, guess we’re not the first people with this idea. “Yeah.”

She hits a key on the register and tears off some of the receipt roll, then picks up a pen and writes down the numbers. Or at least some numbers.

“Here you go.”

I take the paper and look at it doubtfully. “Uh—”

With another sigh, she picks up a folded newspaper from beside her and holds it up. “You can compare them, but this is my last copy, so you can’t have it.”

“Oh, thanks.” I glance at the date first, then the lottery numbers, and yep, they match what she’s written down. “Sorry about that, it’s just—”

“It’s fine. Good luck.” She looks over my shoulder. “Can I help you?”

I turn as Ned comes up beside me, looking low-key panicked by her question. “Uh, no, I mean… yeah? We’ll have… this.” He grabs a couple of candy bars and slaps them on the counter, then digs out his wallet.

The clerk rolls her eyes as she rings them up, but I keep my mouth shut until we’re back outside. Then I laugh. “What was that?”

Ned shrugs good-naturedly, grinning. “I felt kinda bad. She’s obviously had people asking all day.”

“You’re so cute.” I give in to temptation and take his hand. He doesn’t pull away, so I give it a little squeeze. “Now hand over the chocolate.”

He laughs and shares his candy with me.

* * *

Back at my place, the phone is ringing.

“Damn, let me get that,” I say. “It’s probably my mom. Here.” I shove the scrap of paper with the lottery numbers at him, and when he takes it, I go in search of the phone.

It is my mom, who heard about my date from Rico and is super excited that I might have a boyfriend at last. When I first came out, she was a little uncertain about the gay thing, but now that I’m in my thirties and still single, she doesn’t care who I date, as long as I settle down. I promise to call her tomorrow and hang up while she’s midsentence, which I’m definitely gonna pay for later.

I’ll blame it on the handset going flat.

“Sorry about that, but if I didn’t answer, she would have called out the National Guard,” I joke as I rejoin Ned. “Can I get you a drink?”

He doesn’t answer, staring at the scraps of paper in his hands.

“Ned?”

Slowly, he raises his head and looks at me. His eyes are wide, unfocused.

“Can you—” He clears his throat. “Could you please have a look at this? Please?”

“Sure, what—” I freeze midstep when I realize what he’s holding. “I-Is that the lottery ticket?” Oh my god. He can’t really mean… This has to be a prank, right? I’ll look at it and the numbers will be completely different, and then we’ll both laugh. I’ll get him a drink, and we’ll talk and kiss and fuck. Maybe he’ll stay over, and tomorrow we can have breakfast together and plan our next date.

Already smiling at the thought, I take the papers from him and read the numbers.

My smile drops.

“Holy fucking shit,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut and then looking again. My hand starts to shake.

Ned inhales deeply, the breath catching in his throat. “I think we won the lottery.”

Chapter Four

NED

“We won the lottery,” Carlos echoes, staring fixedly at the ticket. “I think I need to sit down.” He drops to the floor right there in the middle of the room. That seems like a good idea, so I join him.

“How is this even possible?” I wonder aloud, and he shakes his head. “What do we do next? Call the lottery people? What’s the process?” Can I quit my job yet? My soul turns cartwheels at the thought of never having to process another damn invoice.

“I don’t know. I guess call them first? Listen…” He swallows hard. “This is your ticket.”

What? “No, it’s ours. You paid for half.” Fair is fair, and anyway, we’re talking about a hundred and eighty million dollars. I think I can afford to share it with him.

“I gave you the dollar to pay for everything you bought, free and clear. There was no expectation—”

“I have an expectation,” I interrupt. “I said if I won anything, I’d split it with you. This money is half yours. I’m firm on that.”

The warmth in his dark brown eyes as he looks at me makes me feel special. Like I’m not just an ordinary guy with a boring job who’s slowly letting himself go.

“Are you really sure? Because the money would be fucking awesome, don’t get me wrong, but I want a chance with you more. I’d rather you kept all the money and went on another date with me than give me the money and I never see you again.”

Aww. I chuckle. “That’s really sweet, but… really? You’d give up ninety million dollars for another date with me?”

He pulls a face. “I mean… I didn’t say I wouldn’t kick myself for it later.”

We laugh. I can’t believe this is happening. Not just the money—though it’s going to take a while for me to believe that—but this attractive, sweet, fun guy who’s into me, sitting on the floor at his apartment, cracking jokes, just being comfortable together. How can so much have changed in just two days?

I take the lottery ticket from his hand and reach over to put it safely on the coffee table, under the remote so it won’t get lost. Then I lean in and kiss Carlos.

He responds instantly, meeting me halfway, taking control of the kiss and pushing me back to the carpet. I lie under him and wrap my arms and legs around him, soaking in the heat and weight of him, his cock hard against my thigh. Mine is pushing against my jeans, desperate to join the party, and I tug on Carlos’s shirt, hoping he’ll get the message without me needing to break away from his mouth to say the words.

The sound he makes only stokes my lust, and then his hand slides down between us and into my jeans, wrapping around my dick, which pulses hotly. He breaks our kiss and plants hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses down my neck to my collarbone, then back up again.

“I love this beard,” he murmurs, mouthing against it. “Want to feel it all over me.”

Yessssss. “Against your balls while I swallow your cock?” I whisper, and he shudders.

“Fuck, yes.”

“Then get your pants off.”

He scrambles upright and yanks his shirt over his head before reaching for his waistband. I do the same, conscious that I’m not toned like him. My habit of self-medicating with frozen dairy products instead of eating a proper dinner has led to a bit of a belly.

Carlos doesn’t seem to care, though. When I look up, his lust-glazed eyes are fixed on my chest. “You’re so hairy,” he breathes, and from the way he licks his puffy lips, that’s not a bad thing. In fact, it might be very, very good.

“Wanna pet my fur?” I ask, then feel like an idiot. Far from laughing, though, he reaches out and puts both hands on my pecs, running his fingers through my blond body hair. Then his mouth joins in, and I clutch at his shoulders as my whole body sags into the pleasure of being worshiped.

Except my dick, which strains even harder, begging for the same attention.

“Strip,” Carlos orders, his lips still pressed against my nipple. “I want to taste you everywhere.”

“I was gonna suck you,” I protest. Not that I mind, exactly, but I was looking forward to getting his cock in me.

He hesitates, clearly torn between blowing and being blown. “Sixty-nine?”

“You’re so smart.”

We pull apart and waste no time getting rid of the rest of our clothes, and then Carlos steals another kiss before lounging back on the rug, propped up on one elbow. His hard, dark red cock stands at attention, the tip beaded with precum, and I bend my head to lap it up.

“Give me yours too,” he begs. I linger for one more lick before backing off and maneuvering into position on my hands and knees over him. “Yesss,” he says, and then his hot, wet mouth closes around the head of my dick, and all rational thought flees.

Instinct takes over, and I lean down to swallow his cock, wanting nothing more than to feel my lips stretch around it. It’s so hard to concentrate on what I’m doing with Carlos working me over so expertly, so I make sure my teeth are covered and just go with what feels good. A distant part of me remembers his comment about my beard, and I adjust the angle of my head, allowing it to rub against his skin. From the sound he makes and the way his throat closes around me, I think he liked it.

It doesn’t take long before my balls draw up tight. Carlos brings his hands into play, tickling lightly over my sac, then gripping firmly. I pull off his cock and gasp, “Coming!” but he doesn’t draw back, and I spurt my load down his throat, barely able to keep from collapsing on top of him.

When I’ve been drained dry, I let myself tip sideways onto the rug, panting. I sense him sitting up and drag my eyes open to look at his smug smile.

“Okay?”

In response, I reach out and firmly grasp his dick, which is hard enough to cut diamond. He groans low in his chest, and with three strokes, I bring him off, loving the way his cum sprays over me.

“Now I’m okay,” I grunt, lying back. He gives a breathy chuckle and slumps down beside me.

As our breath gets back to normal and our bodies cool, my brain reengages.

“What happens now?”

Without looking, he reaches out and takes my hand. “We take things as they come. And maybe use our winnings to pay for a second date.”

Chapter Five

NED

2000—eight years later

I stare at the white ceiling above me and wonder where it all went wrong. The bed beside me is empty, the fancy white sheets rumpled over the acres of mattress, because Carlos doesn’t stay in bed for morning cuddles anymore. Instead, he gets up the second he wakes, as though he can’t stand to lie beside me for a moment longer than he has to. I should probably consider myself lucky he’s not sleeping elsewhere.

Sighing, I roll onto my side and check the time. It’s still early, but not so early it’s worth going back to sleep. Our hosts will be up, so I may as well paste on my social face and join them for breakfast.

In the shower, I let my mind drift back to when Carlos and I first met. Were we ever really meant to be together? It hurts to even think that, because I love him so much, but maybe we were only supposed to be ships in the night. Maybe if the money hadn’t come into it, we’d have dated for a while and then drifted apart under the normal pressures of life. We’re so different.

Not that different, a tiny voice whispers, and I have to admit that’s true. We have the same core values. But where Carlos is the life of every party, popular and welcome wherever he goes, I’m… not. When the money first came through—split evenly between us, no matter how many of my ex-friends told me I bought the ticket and should keep it all—we were still caught up in the glow of love and lust, and it was a no-brainer to go on an extravagant world trip. Everywhere we went, doors opened to us, and not just because we were splashing cash around like it was going out of fashion. No, people invited us to parties and trips and their homes because of Carlos. He made friends on flights, in the airport lounge, in the lobbies of our fancy hotels. Sure, some people still turned up their noses at our working-class backgrounds and squeaky new money—not to mention our open homosexuality—but there were plenty more who flocked to him, and I got swept along in his wake.

Don’t get me wrong: it’s been amazing. Seeing the world in style, not needing to worry about money, meeting the kind of people who can give tips on managing finances so we’ll never need to worry about money. My life changed for the better, and it was all because of Carlos. Not to mention just being with him is all I could ever ask for. But it’s been eight years of whirlwind travel and parties and new people, and sometimes all I want is to lie on a couch in front of the TV and snuggle with my honey.

If only my honey still wanted me.

He hasn’t said anything, and it’s not like we fight or anything… but we’re practically strangers these days. I can’t remember the last time we cuddled or spontaneously kissed, and sex is… well, perfunctory and infrequent. Considering how amazing it used to be between us, like I died and was resurrected every time, what happens now can barely be termed scratching an itch. I’m not even sure if Carlos came last time—as soon as I did, he pulled out and went to wash up. It made me feel dirty and alone.

I want things to go back to how they were between us, but I’m so afraid Carlos’s feelings aren’t the same. That he doesn’t want a forty-one-year-old introvert who’s never going to look like the Calvin Klein underwear model who flirted with him last week in New York and danced the night away. Whereas I nursed a couple of drinks at a table in the corner.

Dragging myself out of the shower, I avoid looking at my reflection. I’m far from old, but there’s no denying the signs of aging are there. I’d be okay with getting older if it didn’t make it so much harder for me to keep up with Carlos. He’s always had the energy of a kid high on sugar.

Downstairs, I run into our hostess in the hall.

“Good morning, Ned,” she says warmly, her smile bright. “How’d you sleep?”

I smile back. It’s not her fault I’m a miserable lump of a human, and I really do like her and her husband. “Great, thanks. That mattress is amazing.”

Linking her arm with mine, she turns me toward the breakfast room. “Wonderful. Come and have some pancakes with us. I’m so glad you decided to visit. The last few days have been so much fun.”

They have—and not just because of the company. Tonya and Larry are great, but they don’t entertain on a large scale in their home. So our visit has had all the benefits of being in Chicago but with low-key social activities, and it’s been great.

For me, anyway.

In the breakfast room, Larry and Carlos are in the middle of an animated conversation about the future of entertainment retailers. Larry’s been talking about investing in a video rental chain, but Carlos is skeptical. “…watch it closely. Short-to-medium term, it’ll do well, but the tech industry is changing so rapidly that I don’t think it will make a good long-term venture.” He glances up. “There you both are. We wondered when we’d see your smiling faces.”

I feel my smile start to slip. It’s not that late, is it? Is he getting sick of me not being an early bird? Luckily, Tonya’s not riddled with doubt like I am.

“I need extra time to greet the day,” she quips, taking the seat next to Larry and kissing his cheek. I slide into the only empty chair with a place setting, beside Carlos, and wish I had the nerve to kiss him. I’m too afraid it won’t be welcome. “Now, what are our plans?”

Before anyone can answer, the housekeeper comes to the door with a cordless handset. “It’s your daughter,” she says, and Tonya rises immediately.

“Talk about our options while I’m gone,” she orders, taking the phone and strolling out.

“Can I get you some coffee and pancakes?” the housekeeper asks me.

“Thank you, that would be great.” An image of the underwear model rises in my mind’s eye, but I resolutely push it aside. Compromise has its place in a relationship, but I’m not changing myself—especially not in a pointless contest with a twenty-two-year-old. If Carlos truly wants someone with six-pack abs, that’s not me and never has been.

Stop being so negative. Carlos likes you cuddly, the voice of my conscience reminds me. He always has.

That’s true. Maybe I need to adjust my attitude and start thinking more positively. Deep breath. Smile. “So what do we—”

“Larry! We have to go right now. Lucy’s having the baby!” Tonya bursts back into the room, grinning widely. “I’m going to be a grandmother!”

There’s a jumble of congratulations as we all scramble to our feet. Larry’s so excited, he forgets to put his fork down and is halfway to the door with a bite of pancake dangling from it before Carlos stops him.

“Will you be all right on your own?” Tonya asks us, glancing toward the door, clearly anxious to be on her way.

“We’ll be fine,” I assure her.

“You have the run of the house, of course,” she says. “If you need anything, just ask Mara.”

“Go, already. We’re okay.” Carlos ushers her out, and she goes with a big smile. I can’t help grinning—their excitement is contagious.

Then Carlos turns to face me with a matching grin, and he looks so relaxed and beautiful that my heart pangs in my chest.

“So what are we going to do today?” he asks, and I scramble for an answer.

“Let’s go for a drive.”

Chapter Six

CARLOS

“We’re not lost,” I insist, choking down my rising panic. How could I have fucked up a drive in the country so badly? Ned was smiling, he was happy to spend time with me, and all he asked for was a fucking car ride, and somehow I managed to get us lost. “It’s Illinois. There’s no wilderness for us to get lost in.” Is there? I wish I’d paid more attention in school all those years ago.

“It’s fine if we’re lost,” Ned says in his resigned voice that makes me feel like a complete failure. That voice has been coming out more and more lately. “We’ll just stop somewhere and get directions.”

I want to snap that we won’t, but that’s just stupid. Of course we should get directions if we’re lost. I’m a city boy; I navigate by street signs, not… whatever they use out here in the country. And it was my dumb idea to get off the highway. I wanted to give Ned a real drive in the country, not just on the highway. It’s felt more and more like he’s pulling away from me, like he’s just sick of being with me. I wanted to show him I care about what he wants and can give it to him.

“It looks like there’s a town up ahead,” I say. “Let’s stop for coffee and snacks.” And directions. And fuel. Because unless we’re miraculously only an hour from Larry and Tonya’s place, we’re going to need it.

“Sure. That sounds good.” The resigned tone is gone, and I take a cautious breath of relief. Maybe this town will be adorable and charming and remind him of that first trip we took to Europe. He’ll be swept away in a flood of memories of how happy we were and remember that he loves me. That’s all I need—just a chance to remind him how good we are together. I’m hanging on by my fingertips, desperately trying to recreate our happy times so he won’t leave me.

I slow the car as we enter the town. It’s not the smallest we’ve seen today, but it’s definitely not large. There’s a bar on the outskirts, then a scattering of houses and small businesses. It doesn’t take long to reach the main drag, and the tension in me loosens when I see that it’s pretty charming. Not like the villages we saw in Europe, but as far as Americana goes, it’s got some nostalgic appeal. Most of the buildings here are Victorian in style, and the residents clearly pride themselves on keeping things maintained. I see a parking space and pull in, turning off the engine and pinning on a bright smile. “Let’s have a walk and find somewhere to grab food,” I suggest, pretending that’s the main reason for our stop and not because we’re completely lost. Maybe one of the shop signs will mention the name of the town and I can look it up on the map and not seem like a complete waste of space.

Ned gets out of the car and glances around. “This is cute,” he says. One of the people walking past glances over and smiles, and I seize on the encouragement.

“The cutest place in America!” I declare, and am rewarded by Ned’s chuckle. I lock the car, grab his hand, and tug him along the sidewalk. “Look at all the ornate plasterwork,” I enthuse. The buildings are nice, and my background in construction gives me appreciation for what I’m seeing, but in the end, they’re not that special. I just need a way to convince Ned that getting lost was the best thing that’s happened to him all week.

We find a little bakery with an espresso machine and plant ourselves at a table in the bay window. A teenager with a Britney Spears hairstyle and way too much eye makeup comes to take our order, then hesitates and asks, “Is that an Armani shirt?”

I look down at my chest. “Yes.”

“Cool. So… are you guys like, a couple?”

All my tension comes flooding back, and she must notice.

“No, it’s cool if you are! One of the guys at the middle school just came out as gay, so the town had this, like, information session so people could ask questions and not accidentally be a dick—I mean, a jerk.” She sneaks a glance toward the counter, but nobody seems to have heard her swear. “I think the kid wanted to die, but everyone learned a lot. I think they’ll all be really accepting.”

I can see from Ned’s expression that he has no idea how to deal with that. Even I think it’s weird. But I muster up some enthusiasm and say, “That’s great! This town is such a gorgeous place and has such a welcoming vibe. It’s great to hear the people are the same.”

The teen beams at me, then goes to put our order in.

Ned looks across the table at me. “What the fuck?” he whispers, and I laugh.

“I know. But… in a way it’s nice? That kid could have been treated like crap, but instead they tried to make things easier. They educated themselves.”

He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “I guess. Bet he doesn’t think it’s so great though.”

I think back to my middle school days and have to agree.

Our drinks are brought out by an older woman with a sharp-featured face but kind eyes. “Here you are. Teri was just telling me how much you like the town. It’s nice to meet city people who can appreciate small-town living. Most of your type don’t even get off the highway.”

Ned immediately picks up his cup and takes a huge swallow, leaving me to come up with a response. Is she complimenting us or insulting us? Or both?

“We’re loving it so far. In fact, we were just saying it’s a shame we can’t stay longer.”

Her face lights up. “Well, why not? We’ve got a great B&B right down the street. I’m sure Lenore will be able to set you up with a room. You can take a few days to explore the area properly.”

Oh my god. How did this happen? What do I say?

I look across the table at Ned, and he looks back at me. For the first time in so long, the worried frown between his brows is gone. He’s smirking, white teeth flashing behind his beard, and I can almost hear the challenge.

“What a great idea.”

Chapter Seven

NED

I don’t know what parasite is eating Carlos’s brain, but I kind of like it. Yeah, I know it’s wrong to be glad my boyfriend seems to be having some kind of breakdown, but I don’t hate the idea of a couple of days in a small town with just each other’s company. No glitzy parties, no hordes of friends. And the town basically rolls up the sidewalk at nine on weeknights—there’s definitely no club scene. The bar we passed on the way in is it, and last night that was relaxed and low-key.

Maybe this is my chance to reconnect with him and show him how great we are.

The B&B is decent. Not lavish or as luxurious as some of the places we’ve stayed, but Lenore, the owner, keeps it clean and fresh, and everything is in good condition. Even the sheets don’t feel worn. I was disappointed to see the king-size bed in our room—a smaller one would have given me an excuse to snuggle up to Carlos. But Lenore took one look at me and decided I needed a big bed. And since I’ve spent the last eight years asking for an upgrade to a king bed everywhere we go, Carlos would have known something was up if I’d told her a smaller bed was fine.

But even with two feet of mattress between us, last night was the closest I’ve felt to Carlos in a long time. After we turned off the lights, we spent ten minutes giggling over this town and how eager everyone is to have us here… not to mention the fact that they’re so determined to be accepting of sexual diversity that our hostess stocked the en suite bathroom with condoms and tiny packets of lube. That must have been some seminar.

And this morning, Carlos was still in bed with me when I woke up. That’s progress.

Sitting down to breakfast in the cozy dining room, I look around and say, “This place is perfect, Lenore. So charming. All you need is a friendly ghost to complete the experience.”

She laughs. “No ghosts here, I’m afraid—that we know of, anyway. If you want ghosts, you need to go out to the estate.”

My fork freezes halfway to my mouth. Across the table, Carlos slowly puts his coffee cup down. “Sorry, what? Did you say there are ghosts?”

Lenore nods and tops up our cups, then plants her free hand on her hip. “Yeah, of course. Out at Mannix Estate. There were six, last time I was out there. That was nearly thirty years ago, so maybe it’s changed, but I’m sure someone would have mentioned that.”

“Wait,” I say. I put my fork down so I can focus on her. “There are six ghosts. At… Mannix Estate. What’s that?”

She puts the coffeepot on the sideboard and slides into a chair at the table, planting her elbows and leaning forward. “Well… it’s one of the oldest houses in the area. Originally most of the land between here and there belonged to the estate, but over the years it got sold off. It was a farm and country retreat for the Mannix family for almost a hundred years, and then it sold after the First World War and was converted to a fancy hotel for rich people. They’d come out from Chicago for a vacation in the country.”

I avoid Carlos’s eyes. If I look at him, I’ll laugh, and I don’t even know why.

“Then in 1973 there was some funny business. Any local will tell you it was to do with the ghosts, but that’s not the ‘official’ version. The place got closed down in a rush after some people got hurt. It’s been locked up ever since. The high school kids like to go out there to do their thing, and since the ghosts don’t let it get out of hand, nobody’s got a problem with it.”

My mouth is hanging open. The townspeople are letting ghosts supervise their teenagers? Actual ghosts? What do they do, give the kids a chill when they’ve been drinking too much stolen beer?

“Whereabouts did you say this place is?” Carlos asks. There’s a thread of laughter in his voice. “I think I’d like to see it.”

* * *

“You don’t really think there are ghosts there, do you?” I ask as we speed along a road on our way to an abandoned country house. Lenore gave us directions, but “take this road out of town for twenty minutes or so. You’re there when you see the broken gate” isn’t all that specific.

“I think it’s an abandoned building and kids play pranks on each other, and over time that’s turned into ghost stories.” Carlos shoots me a sideways glance. “But it might be fun to see. And, uh, I’ve been thinking lately that it could be nice to have a house in the country….”

Say what?

“You… have?” Since when?

He shrugs uncomfortably. “Well, we wouldn’t live in it all the time. And it’s probably not going to be this one. But you like getting away from cities, and the occasional quiet weekend would be good for us.”

A tiny flame of hope ignites within me. This doesn’t sound like he wants to leave me. This sounds like he wants us to put down more roots together.

“Yeah. It would.” We smile at each other. “But not a haunted house,” I add, and he laughs.

“Not a haunted house. Hey, is that the gate?”

I peer through the windshield. “I see gateposts, but no… oh, wait. That rusted chunk of metal lying on the ground and overgrown with weeds would be the gate.”

Carlos slows the car and turns into the rutted driveway. “I’m gonna guess this is a fixer-upper.”

We creep up the driveway toward the house, my mood inexplicably lifting more and more with every yard. Even from a distance and obviously unkempt, it’s impressive. Three stories, and with gable windows in the roof that are probably attics, it sits squarely on a rise. The solid Georgian architecture has stood the test of time, although the building is in need of maintenance. The windows are all boarded up, which I’d say means someone is still coming out to check on the place, but I’ve got no doubt the local kids have figured out a way to get inside.

Carlos stops the car out the front, and we get out and stare at the face of the building.

“I like it,” he says. “It feels good here. Happy and… I don’t know. I just like being here.”

“Me too. Let’s walk around the house and see if there’s a way to get in.” I head toward the corner of the building, Carlos following.

“Ooh, breaking and entering. You rebel, Ned. I like this side of you.”

My mood instantly takes a dive. Does that mean I’ve been right all this time and he’s getting bored of me? Is my introverted personality killing our relationship?

I bite my lip. I want to say nothing, to pretend I’m not terrified of losing him, to go on like everything is normal, but that’s gotten me nothing but stress and loneliness so far. Things have been good since we got here… maybe this is our chance to clear the air.

The worst that can happen is that I’ll know for sure that we’re over.

Just the thought makes me sick to my stomach, but I push aside the fear, take a deep breath, stop walking, and turn to Carlos.

“Do you wish we weren’t together?”

Chapter Eight

CARLOS

The bottom falls out of my world. Is Ned saying he wants to break up? “Why would you say that?” I whisper, forcing the words through my suddenly too-tight throat.

He scoffs. “Come on, Carlos. Let’s stop pretending. Things haven’t been okay with us for a while now.”

Fuck. “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean… Do you wish we weren’t together?”

“No!” He looks away. “But neither of us has been happy lately.”

“I love you,” I blurt desperately. “I know things haven’t been good, but I can fix them. Just… give me a chance.”

“Awww! That’s so sweet,” a woman sighs.

Ned and I stare at each other for a second, then look around.

Two women are standing about five feet away. I swear they weren’t there a minute ago, and I definitely didn’t notice them approach, but I guess I was kind of preoccupied, what with trying not to lose the love of my life.

“Uh… hi.” I paste on a bright smile. “Sorry, we didn’t know anyone was here. I’m Carlos, and this is Ned. Are you the caretakers?” My smile falters as I take them in. One looks like a grandmotherly schoolmistress, and the other looks like my niece does when she plays dress-up in her mother’s closet. Clothes of all styles are mismatched together, and she’s wearing more jewelry than a pimp on payday. It’s a fashion disaster, completely discordant, and oddly endearing.

“We do take care of the place,” the older woman says with a friendly smile. “I’m Hattie.”

“And I’m Maisie. It’s so nice to meet you both!” She looks from me to Ned. “Are you breaking up?”

“Maisie!” Hattie snaps, and Maisie pouts.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to ask. They both seem very nice, and a girl needs to look out for herself.”

I blink. Does she mean…?

“We’re both gay,” Ned tells her. “Sorry. You seem lovely, but even if we b-break up, you’re not our type.” I’m glad to hear his voice crack—it means I still have a chance.

“Are you sure?” she checks. “Bisexuality is a thing, you know. I heard all about it recently. Maybe you should give that a chance.”

Ned’s cheeks turn pink behind his beard, probably from trying not to laugh.

“Been there, done that,” I commiserate. “I dated women until I was in my twenties.”

She sighs and looks at Ned.

“I’ve dated women too.”

“And it definitely wasn’t for you?” she checks. “Because I can be very accommodating.”

My six-foot-three, built-like-a-brick-shithouse boyfriend takes a step back.

“He’s definitely gay,” I say, coming to his rescue. “But we’re both very flattered by your interest.”

“I’m doomed to be alone, I’m afraid. At least you didn’t just use me for a night and discard me.”

Whoa, this is not okay. “Do you need help? Is your living situation safe?”

“We know people who can help you,” Ned adds.

“She’s fine,” Hattie assures us. “I’m more interested in both of you. It sounds like you’re going through a hard time.”

Reality crash lands around me.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Ned says stiffly. “We didn’t know anyone was here. Do you live on the property?” He looks around, but aside from the boarded-up house and some old, falling-down structures not far away, there’s nothing in sight.

“Oh yes, we live in the house,” Maisie burbles. “We’ve been here for ages.”

Squatters? Lenore said the place was abandoned, but I would have thought that with teenagers here all the time, squatters wouldn’t find it very convenient. Plus, they’re very fresh and tidy for people who’ve been living in an abandoned house with no running water.

“Let’s not get sidetracked,” Hattie insists. “You’re such lovely young men, and I can’t bear the thought that you’ll leave here heartbroken. What seems to be the trouble in your relationship?”

Wow. Really? We’re going to be counseled by two random women at an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere?

Come to think of it, this could be the beginning of a serial killer documentary.

“We’re not going to die, Carlos,” Ned says, proving once again just how well he knows me.

Maisie sniffs. “You will someday, and it’ll come when you least expect it.”

Ned and I exchange glances, and this time we both take a step back.

“She’s being philosophical,” Hattie informs us. “Stop that, Maisie. They think you want to turn them into skin suits.”

Maisie’s big eyes and false eyelashes blink. “Oh, no. I would never wear a skin suit. They’re so boring and plain. I like pizzazz in my fashion.”

That’s… one word for it.

“Now… neither of you have been happy, but you both seem to love each other.” Hattie looks enquiringly from me to Ned.

“I do,” I confess, and Ned nods.

“I’ve never loved anyone else like this.”

I take a breath, feeling like a massive weight has been lifted off my chest. He loves me still. We can work through the rest.

“So what’s the problem, then?”

Ned hesitates, then bursts out, “I’m too boring.”

“What?” I stare at him. “Why would you say that? You’re not boring.”

Maisie waves her hands. “Wait, please. The others will want to hear this.”

I turn to her. “What others—” As I watch, she literally disappears. As in… poof. Gone.

What the fuck?

Chapter Nine

NED

I gawk at the space where Maisie was just standing. Where…?

“Oh dear,” Hattie says. “You both look rather startled. Did nobody tell you about us?”

Tell us about them? As in… “You’re ghosts?” The second the words leave my mouth, I want to snatch them back. They’re ridiculous. I’m an idiot for even thinking them.

“Of course, dear.”

I sit down on the ground with a thud.

“Babe?” Carlos kneels beside me. “You okay?”

“They’re ghosts,” I whisper to him.

“Yeah, not thinking about that right now. You good?”

“Ghosts.” I look up at Hattie. “You’re not screwing with us?”

She sighs, disappears from sight, then reappears. “Does that convince you?”

“Either you’re a ghost, or I’m hallucinating.”

“I see them too,” Carlos reminds me. “I doubt we’re both hallucinating something so specific.”

I study him wonderingly. “How are you so calm?”

He shrugs and smiles at me. “You still love me. That’s all that matters.”

All the stress and fear and impossible pain surges up and… dissipates. I lean forward and kiss him, desperate to feel his mouth on mine again. It’s been so long since we’ve kissed and it didn’t seem like a chore.

“I’ve never seen two men kissing. It’s… compelling, isn’t it?”

We freeze, and Carlos reluctantly pulls back so we can both turn to look at the newcomer.

Or rather, newcomers. A circle of fascinated faces stare down at us.

“Hi?” I say, and they break into beaming smiles.

“Hello! Maisie says you’re homosexuals. Could I ask you some questions?”

“No,” Carlos says, standing and offering me a hand up. “Who are you?”

The man—ghost?—frowns sulkily. “I’m Carter. Are you sure? It wouldn’t be many questions.”

“Are any of them about sex?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Then no.” I look around at the other faces. There’s a teenager, which makes me sad, but since I’ve never seen anyone with that many facial piercings in real life, he seems to have embraced his ghosthood with gusto. He’s standing between Carter, who’s dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans, and another man who’s wearing a fussy-looking three-piece suit, hair slicked back in classic gangster style.

“Is this all of you who live here?”

Hattie nods. “Except for Joe. But he doesn’t like people much, especially since the house got closed down.” Sadness flitters across her face. “Meet Carter, Johnny, and Freddie.”

“Frederick Walton the third,” the suit man intones, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“It’s great to meet you all. I can’t believe this is really happening. How is this possible?”

It’s like I asked them to reveal state secrets. Instantly, their expressions shut down. “What do you mean?” Freddie asks, glaring at me. “How is what possible?”

Carlos and I exchange glances. “Nothing. Uh… how about a tour?”

The next few hours are more fun than I would have thought, given we’re exploring an abandoned house with a group of ghosts. As long as I pretend they’re living people, everything is fine, but if I spend any time thinking about them being ghosts, I get a little lightheaded. Still, even thirty years out of date and mostly falling apart, the house is spectacular. The ghosts tell us more of the history, that Joe, the one we haven’t met yet, was the original owner and built the property. The idea that he loved—loves—it so much that he didn’t leave when he died, instead choosing to stay and watch over it, hits me in all the feels, and I can tell it does the same to Carlos. The other ghosts all either lived or were guests here at some stage—Carter was the farm manager for Joe’s grandson; Maisie a friend who came to visit; Johnny a stable hand; Hattie and Freddie guests at the hotel. They all felt such a connection to this place that they chose to spend their afterlife here.

I can see why. From the moment we turned into the driveway, I’ve had a good feeling here, and even though the house is a mess, that feeling’s only grown stronger.

“Would you want to see this place operating as a hotel again?” I ask impulsively as we stand in what the ghosts say used to be the library. “Or would you prefer to keep it to yourselves?”

“Hotel,” Hattie says immediately, and the others agree enthusiastically. “It would be so lovely to have people here again. And not just all those rowdy teenagers.”

“But not just a hotel,” Carter adds. “I know most of the land has been sold off, but I bet what’s left could still be productive. At least enough to provide produce for the hotel guests.”

Carlos stiffens, which I know means he’s had an idea, but I say nothing, just let the ghosts lead us outside.

We visit the falling-down stables. “This is where I lived and died,” Johnny says proudly. “There was a fire one night, and I never woke up.”

I have no idea how to respond to that. “I hope you felt no pain.”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Slept right through it.” He squints at me. “What’s it like having a beard?”

Startled, I put my hand up to my jaw. “Uh… I like it. I’ve had it for over a decade. Why? Do you think I should shave?”

“No,” Carlos snaps, and I hide a smile. He’s always loved my beard.

“I like it,” Johnny announces. “Maybe I’ll have a beard too. I couldn’t grow one when I was alive.”

We move on, farther down the slope from the main house. The grounds have gone back to nature, but the ghosts explain where the gardens were, reminiscing about afternoon tea on the terrace and scavenger hunts among the topiaries. Carter is less interested in the formal gardens, instead pointing to where the fields were and which he preferred for farming different crops. Then we reach the remains of a cottage. The roof has tumbled in, but the exterior walls are all still standing.

“This was where I lived,” Carter says. “It was a sound house and outlived many farm managers. It’s sad the state it’s come to.”

“Solid, though,” Carlos says, eyeing the building. He wanders closer, and I know his inner construction worker is estimating what it would take to make it livable again.

Things may not have been great between us lately, but I know him well enough to know we’re both thinking along similar lines. I turn to Hattie.

“Do you think Joe would come and talk to us?”

The ghosts exchange glances. “Probably not,” she replies.

Carlos rejoins us. “Could you ask him? We’d like his opinion.”

“His opinion on what matter?” Freddie’s pompous tone makes me smile.

“On us buying the estate and reopening the hotel.”

Chapter Ten

CARLOS

“Do we really want to do this?” I ask Ned as we drive back to town. Please say yes.

He makes a humming sound. “I don’t want to run the hotel, but I definitely want to bring it back to life.”

I let out a relieved breath. “Me too. That place needs a second chance.” Sliding a sideways glance at him, I add, “Like us.”

The words hang between us for a moment. He swallows audibly. “We should probably talk.”

“I don’t want us to break up,” I reiterate firmly. “Things have been rough, but we can make them better.”

“Yes. Okay. We agree on that. I-I don’t want you to be unhappy, but I’m not willing to let go. Not yet.”

The “yet” makes me frown, but I let it slide. If I have my way, we’ll never get to that point. “I’m not unhappy with you. I could never be unhappy with you. But, uh… we probably haven’t talked as much as we should have, and things have gotten…”

“Fucked up?”

I chuckle. “Yeah. So, let’s agree to be completely honest, no offense taken, and try to work this out.” That’s a risk, but we need to get the problems out into the open.

Ned hesitates, then nods. “Okay.”

“Great. I’ll go first.” I suck in a deep breath. “Lately I feel like you’re sick of me. We were so happy in the beginning, and I’ve been trying to recreate that, but something’s not right. Do you want to go back to Europe? We can do that.”

There’s a little pause, then Ned says slowly, “So all these parties we’ve been going to lately… all the premieres and launches and fundraisers… the new nightclubs, the music festivals… you think I want that?”

My foot jerks on the gas pedal. “You don’t?”

The sound that comes from his throat is half scoff, half chuckle. “Not really. I’m… tired. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy those events, but sometimes I just want a night at home.”

Oh my god. I start to laugh. “So I’ve been jamming our calendar with more and more events in an attempt to make you happy, and the more we did, the worse you felt?”

He laughs too. “We’re both so fucking stupid. I should have said something.”

“Or I should have asked. But at least we know now, and this is easy to fix. It’s a relief, actually. I’m sick of having my feet hurt all the time and having to get dressed up. This visit with Larry and Tonya has been such a nice break.”

Ned’s smile is like the sun coming out. “It has. I wouldn’t mind more low-key socializing like this, with big events occasionally. And lots of time in between just for us.”

“Sounds perfect.” I can’t believe it’s this easy. Or that I was so blind.

“Are you sure you want to give up all the parties with underwear models?” The question is teasing, but there’s a note of insecurity in his tone.

“You mean all those boys who made me feel old?” I counter. “One of them pressed up against me, and it was like leaning against a wall. Six-pack abs might be nice to look at on TV or in magazines, but I like something softer to cuddle with.” It’s true. Ned’s always been everything I want.

He doesn’t say anything, but his hand lands on my thigh and squeezes.

A moment later, he clears his throat. “So… we’re buying Mannix Estate? I can tell you want to renovate it.”

“Dying to,” I admit. “I was thinking, though… instead of just a hotel, what if we made it a… I don’t know. A destination?”

“To do what?” He sounds skeptical. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“Well, it is a haunted house,” I point out. “That’s gotta be worth something. And when the ghosts were showing us around and talking about how things used to be, I thought it could be fun to, you know, do some old-timey exhibits? Like show the farming methods Carter would have used. Or cooking exhibits using old-fashioned stoves.” It’s kind of vague in my head. My mom loves to cook, but she’s always had modern appliances. And I’ve spent my adult life as a huge fan of the microwave.

“I bet there’s some interesting local history,” Ned says thoughtfully. “Maybe we could have a small museum-type thing? At the very least, it could feature the history of the estate and talk about what life was like when Joe built it.”

“Yes! Stuff like that. Maybe it could be set up for educational day trips. And theme weekends—remember when Titanic came out and my sister went on that weekend getaway where they all dressed up and pretended they lived back then? Stuff like that.”

Ned’s grinning now. “That sounds fun. Can we have a blacksmith? I know there probably wasn’t one on the estate back then, but I’ve always thought blacksmithing is cool.”

I shrug, slowing as we approach the town. “I don’t see why not.”

We’re still excitedly discussing our plans when we enter the B&B and make our way upstairs. “We’re definitely not running it, though,” Ned warns. “I like the comfort of living in a city. And your mom would kill us if we moved to Illinois.”

“Agreed. We’ll hire a good manager. But it’ll be nice to visit, and I like the idea that we’re bringing the place back and giving the ghosts company.” I kick off my shoes and flop down on the bed as Ned sits in the chair to remove his shoes more sedately, like he always does. My love for him threatens to overwhelm me as I watch him, his hair swinging forward and hiding half his face. The golden blond has threads of silver in it now, but it’s still as thick as ever.

He looks up and catches me staring. “What?”

“I’m just wondering how I can be so lucky to be with such a hot, sweet guy.”

His face turns pink, as expected. I love how he blushes. When we first got together, I used to make it my mission to make him blush whenever I could. Why did I stop doing that?

Only a little nervous, I pat the mattress beside me. “Wanna snuggle?”

Chapter Eleven

CARLOS

Ned’s face lights up, and it takes him only seconds to join me on the bed and cuddle against me, laying his head on my shoulder. I wrap my arm tight around him, soaking in the smell and feel of him. I’ve missed this so much, and judging from his little murmur and the way he nestles closer, so has he.

I don’t know how we lost our way, but I’m never letting it happen again. From now on, I’m taking every chance I get to show Ned how much I love him.

His hand comes to rest on my chest, lightly petting, stroking, and I smile, my eyes drifting closed.

“Carlos?”

“Mmm?”

“I’ve been thinking…” His hand slides downward, and I open my eyes. “It’s been a while since… you know.”

My cock, which does in fact know it’s been a while since it got some action, perks right up. “Oh?”

He laughs. “I mean, if you don’t want—hey!” His yelp cuts off the stupid sentence as I roll us so he’s under me and kiss him.

The familiar taste of him is heaven, and I could lose myself in just kissing him for days… except it’s been too long since we fucked, and the last time was… awful. I felt like he was just indulging me, like he wasn’t fully engaged at all. But this time will be different, and I want to weep tears of joy for that.

Ned drags my attention back to him when he yanks my shirt from my pants, and we strip the clothes from each other between kisses, never getting too far apart. Finally, he’s naked against me.

“Fuck, baby,” I gasp as he undulates against me. “I’m gonna die.”

“Not until you’re in me.” He bites my shoulder, then wraps his arms and legs around me. “God, you feel amazing.” Our cocks rub together, trapped between us, and I’m tempted to get us off like this. Frottage is always underrated. I thrust a few times, the sound of his groan music to my ears.

But he wants a fuck, and I just finished promising myself to pay more attention to what he wants.

“Carlos, I’m gonna come if you keep doing that,” he whines. “Get in me, already.”

“Lube,” I manage. We don’t have any with us. Wait…

I tear myself from Ned’s arms and race into the bathroom, suddenly grateful for weird small towns. The three packets of lube are right there in the basket on the counter, and I grab one and dash back to the bed.

Ned’s laid out like an erotic buffet, hair in disarray around his face, eyes hazy with lust, one hand lazily stroking his dick, but he snorts when he sees what I’ve got. “I would’ve taken you dry if I had to,” he says, pulling his legs up. I settle between them, marvel at one of my favorite sights on the planet, and can’t resist leaning down to lick his pucker.

He whines again. “Carlos, please. I’m so empty. Please.”

I take a deep breath to stop myself from coming on the spot and rip open the packet of lube. Ned wasn’t lying about wanting me inside him—he starts fucking himself onto my finger the second I slip it inside.

“Jesus, baby, you’re killing me.” I take a second to watch his flushed, needy face, white teeth biting into his swollen red lip surrounded by the beard I love so much. His hips writhe in a hedonistic rhythm as old as time, pumping my fingers into him, while the head of his hard, flushed dick peeks out from the tight grip of his hand.

How could I have risked losing this?

I draw my fingers out, and he stills, holding himself in check as he stares up at me. I line myself up and push slowly forward.

We both gasp as my cock breaches the tight ring of muscle.

“Ned,” I groan, my eyes rolling back as I slide home. His hot ass clasps me tight. My Ned.

I pull back, almost all the way out, then slowly thrust back in, but Ned’s not having it. He plants his feet on the mattress and begins fucking himself onto me to show me the pace he wants. I obediently take over, thrusting hard into him, relishing every sigh, moan, and whimper. But I’ve wanted and waited for so long, I can’t keep this up—the urge to come is riding me hard, my balls so tight, they ache.

“Let go, babe,” I whisper, and Ned’s gaze comes to me.

“I want…”

Knowing what he wants, I reach between us and take over jerking him. One, two… three firm strokes, and he explodes, cum shooting between us, coating both our torsos. His cry rings through me as he clamps down around my cock, and I give myself over to ecstasy.

When my brain comes back online, I’m lying on top of Ned, our chests sticky with cum and sweat, my face buried in the curve of his neck.

“I love you,” I say, the words thick and muffled, but I have to get them out.

He stirs and wraps his arms around me. “I love you too.”

Chapter Twelve

NED

Nine Months Later

“Babe?” Carlos calls. “Where are you?”

Stepping back, I allow myself to admire the beautiful piece of heaven in front of me. “Out here,” I yell. A moment later, the screen door opens and he comes outside.

“Admiring the grill again? You might have a problem.”

“Sssh.” I toss him a smile over my shoulder. “She’ll hear you.”

His laugh warms me from head to toe. Since we decided to slow things down and spend more time with just us, things have gotten so much better. We’ve reconnected, and once again we have the vibe I loved so much in the early years of our relationship. Turns out, we didn’t need the whirlwind travel and exciting parties. We just needed to pay attention to each other.

Part of that has been finding new hobbies together. It was Carlos’s idea for us to take an Argentinian barbecue class, but I’m the one who fell in love with grilling. So for my birthday, he bought me the fanciest damn grill he could find, and now he complains that I spend more time outside than with him—which inevitably leads to sex when I try to convince him otherwise.

But instead of making a comment about how neglected he is, he says, “Pack a bag. We have to go to Mannix.”

“What?” Things moved fast once we decided to buy the estate. The old owners were happy to sell and get it off their hands, so we got it for a steal. Convincing the town that our plans were good was even easier than I expected. They were excited to see the place brought back from ruin, and the promise of some tourism to the area was a bonus they couldn’t ignore. The permits were issued in record time, and work started almost immediately. It’s been almost a decade, but I’m still astounded by the difference having money makes.

We’ve gotten regular updates from the team on the ground, and everything’s been running smoothly, so I don’t understand why we have to race across the country now.

“There was an incident with the ghosts, apparently. Benson wasn’t all that clear on the phone, but two of the crew were injured, and some of the non-local workers are talking about hiring an exorcist.”

“Wait, our ghosts injured people? No way.” I abandon my baby and walk past Carlos into the house. We need to get to Illinois stat.

“That’s what Benson said, and apparently the ghosts are all up in arms about the incident, but it seemed like something we’d want to sort out in person, so I said we’d meet him on-site first thing tomorrow.” He follows me upstairs to our bedroom but stops me when I head toward the closet. “We’ve got a few hours before our flight.”

I grin. “Oh? Did you want to play a board game or something?”

His lips quirk, and he starts to unbutton his shirt. “We could do that. Lately it feels like you pay more attention to your grill than me, and I’m feeling a bit… neglected.” The shirt hits the floor, and he tucks his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans.

“Neglected, huh? Well, we can’t have that.” I tackle him onto the bed, both of us laughing, so grateful to have this back.

* * *

“…but both of them are okay?” Carlos checks with Ted Benson, the project manager in charge of the renovations. He met us at Mannix at the ungodly hour of seven this morning and just finished telling us that two of his crew were taken to the hospital in the next town over yesterday.

“Bates has two cracked ribs and Tully has a broken arm, but they’ll both be fine,” he assures us. “They got a damn big fright, though, when their tools just up and started flying at them.”

“I can imagine,” I murmur, looking up at the house we’re walking toward from the newly graveled parking area. “Make sure all their medical expenses are covered. And they’re on full pay while they’re off work.”

He jerks in surprise but agrees fast enough. “I’ll let them know. They’ll be grateful.”

“What did the ghosts say?” Carlos asks, and Benson shrugs.

“It was kind of chaotic. Bates and Tully were screaming, tools flying around, none of us could get near the basement. They got out, and then the ghosts were there, yelling at us to leave. I cleared everyone out of the house, realized the guys needed medical care, and decided the best thing to do was send everyone home for the day until it could get sorted out. Higgs and I took Bates and Tully to the hospital, and I left Higgs with them and came back here to see if I could sort it out, but Carter met me at the gate and told me to stay away until today. Then I started getting calls from some of the guys about an exorcist, and I figured it would be best to call you in.”

“You were right,” I tell him, and Carlos makes an agreeing noise. “The ghosts seem to be okay with us being here today, though. Let’s go in and see if we can find out what happened.”

We make it three steps over the threshold before I’m distracted by the work that’s been done. The place is really starting to look great, and a warm glow of accomplishment overtakes me.

“There you are!” Hattie declares, popping out of nowhere and eliciting a strangled shriek from Benson. “We’ve been waiting for you all morning.”

I check my watch, and yep, still only a few minutes after seven. “It’s nice to see you again too, Hattie.”

She visibly stops whatever she was about to say and smiles. “Oh, I’m glad you’re here. But we need to have words, I’m afraid. Who told you to renovate the basement?”

“Nobody told us we couldn’t,” Carlos says while I stand there with my mouth hanging open. “And it would make a great casual space for the guests.”

“No.”

“No?” I ask. Benson looks like a spectator at a tennis match, his gaze pinging between us.

“Absolutely not. I need your agreement on this before Joe realizes you’re here. He’s very angry right now.”

“But why?” Carlos looks in the direction of the door to the basement. It’s at the other end of the house, and there are a fair few walls between us and it, but he still looks.

“Did anyone tell you about the troubles that got the hotel closed down?” Hattie raises a brow significantly. “We took care of things then to make this place safe again, and we’ll take care of them now, but the basement absolutely must be off-limits.”

That… does not sound good. Carlos and I exchange glances. We looked into the closure of the hotel in the ’70s, and there’s no official reason for it on record… but in the weeks beforehand, several people were injured while in the building, some quite seriously, one actually ending up in a coma for weeks. The obvious conclusion is that the ghosts were doing something, but neither the locals nor we could believe it of them. They’re so friendly. And they haven’t hurt a single one of the teenagers who’ve flocked here for nearly thirty years.

“Are you saying it was a ghost who did this?” Carlos asks. “We can’t have guests here if there’s any chance of danger.”

“The only danger is because those idiots poked around where they shouldn’t have been!”

I jump, then spin to face Joe, who clearly overheard at least part of the conversation. He’s a grumpy old man ghost, but I liked him when we met and thought he liked us too.

If he did, it’s not apparent now. His scowl is fierce.

“Joe, we just want to make sure people will be safe,” I placate.

“Then keep them out of the basement.”

Carlos and I exchange a long look. “Can you tell us—”

“No.”

“Joe, we’re trying—”

“No. Stay out of the basement, and everything will be fine.”

I sigh. “Do you need help? We could get an exorcist and make sure they know to leave the rest of you alone.”

He makes a rude noise. “Don’t waste your money on a charlatan. We’ve got it handled, as long as the basement is off-limits.”

I’m tempted to say no. I should say no. That would be the responsible thing. But… the estate has been here for two hundred years, was a hotel for fifty years, and as far as we know, the only suspicious incidents were the ones in the ’70s and what happened yesterday. The ghosts claim to have everything under control, and… it seems like they might be right?

I can tell Carlos is thinking the same things I am when he says, “So if we close the basement and make it a no-go zone, there will be no more problems like what happened yesterday? It will be safe to have guests here?”

Joe meets his gaze unflinchingly. “It will.”

Carlos heaves a sigh and raises his brow at me.

“Fine,” I agree. “We’ll get a lock and close off the basement. We’ll make sure everyone is told to stay clear, including when we hire the staff to run the place. And if you ever feel that you need assistance or that things are changing, you’ll have someone call us.” I make my voice firm, and Joe nods curtly.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Let’s go find a lock.”

Epilogue

CARLOS

2017

“…have a lot of experience with this type of hotel management,” the candidate, a good-looking redhead in his early thirties, says. His name is Kieran, and so far he’s my pick to be the new manager at Mannix Estate.

He’ll be only the third manager we’ve had since opening nearly sixteen years ago. The estate is a lot of work, but Ned and I seem to have a knack for picking people who love it there. The outgoing manager, Carina, has been with us for seven years, and Kyle, who was the first manager we hired, stayed for nine. We can’t be sad about a track record like that.

Ned was skeptical about interviewing Kieran, since he’s so young, but Carina worked with him when he was fresh out of college and recommended him. Since we were going to be in Atlanta for a fundraiser anyway, he agreed we should at least give the guy an interview. And based on the vibe I’m feeling from the love of my life, he’s changed his mind and agrees with me that Kieran will be a good fit.

“Your experience is fantastic,” Ned says, proving me right. “Most of the people who applied have hotel management experience, which is great, but since Mannix is so much more than just a hotel, your background in cruise ships and at Joy Universe is exactly what’s needed. I’m not sure how much you know about Mannix, but it’s not what most people would call… normal.”

Kieran smiles. “Because of the ghosts, you mean?”

Ned and I nod. “What have you heard about them?” I ask.

He shrugs. “You promote the property as being haunted, so I’ve read all your marketing material. But I’ve also been in contact with Carina over the years, and she’s mentioned the ghosts before. My understanding is that they’re friendly?”

“Very friendly,” Ned confirms.

“And eager to be helpful,” I add. “That part might drive you nuts.”

“There are worse things. They’re still people, right? Just dead ones. I work in hospitality management; I’m used to dealing with people.”

That’s encouraging. “They feel somewhat proprietary about the estate,” Ned says, but Kieran doesn’t seem fazed.

“They’ve been there for a long time, so I’d be surprised if they didn’t. I can’t say for sure that there won’t be personality clashes, but I’m not anti-ghost, and I’m prepared to work with them if they’ll work with me.”

“You’d be prepared to come to Illinois and meet them ahead of receiving an offer?”

“Of course. I’d want to see the estate before making a decision, anyway,” he says smoothly, reminding us that he has options and is in demand. I smother a smile. I really like this kid.

We hash out a few more details, including salary and benefits—both of which are generous, because the estate is doing very well and Ned and I believe in taking care of our employees—and then wrap things up.

Once he’s gone, Ned leans back in his chair and scratches his beard. He shaved it once, about ten years ago, but we both hated that, so he grew it back again. It’s mostly silver now, as is his hair, but he’s still my sexy Viking guy.

“You were right,” he concedes. “He’d be perfect.”

“If the ghosts like him.”

“Naturally. I’m sure they will, but we’ll set up a meeting.” He smiles. “He reminded me of you at that age.”

“Really?” I’m surprised. “Why?”

“Confident, friendly, attractive… all the things that made me say yes to that first date.”

I grin, remembering that night. “I thought you said yes because I gave you a dollar.”

He throws his pen at me, and I dodge it, then stand and pull him out of his seat for a kiss. “Can you believe that was twenty-five years ago?”

As his lips descend on mine, he says, “I can believe I want twenty-five more.”

* * *

Thanks so much for reading Eternal Luck! To see how Mannix Estate fares under Kieran’s management and find out what’s really going on in the basement, check out Spirited Situation, the first in the Ghostly Guardian series.

For book chat and spoilers, join us in my reader group, RoMMance with Becca & Louisa.

Also by Louisa Masters

Franklin U

Mr. Romance

Ghostly Guardians

Spirited Situation

Vortex Conundrum

Conduit Crisis

Here Be Dragons

Dragon Ever After

The Professor’s Dragon

The Dragon Experiment

Conspiracy of Dragons

Hidden Species

Demons Do It Better

One Bite With A Vampire

Hijinks With A Hellhound

Sorcerers Always Satisfy

Met His Match

Charming Him

Offside Rules

A Christmas Chance (novella)

Between the Covers (M/F)

Joy Universe

I’ve Got This

Follow My Lead

In Your Hands

Take Us There

Novellas

Fake It ’Til You Make It (permafree)

One Golden Night

O Hell, All Ye Shoppers

Out of the Office

After the Blaze

About the Author

Louisa Masters started reading romance much earlier than her mother thought she should. While other teenagers were sneaking out of the house, Louisa was sneaking romance novels in and working out how to read them without being discovered. As an adult, she feeds her addiction in every spare second. She spent years trying to build a “sensible” career, working in bookstores, recruitment, resource management, administration, and as a travel agent, before finally conceding defeat and devoting herself to the world of romance novels.

Louisa has a long list of places first discovered in books that she wants to visit, and every so often she overcomes her loathing of jet lag and takes a trip that charges her imagination. She lives in Melbourne, Australia, where she whines about the weather for most of the year while secretly admitting she’ll probably never move.

http://www.louisamasters.com

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