Principles of Spookology (The Spectral Files, #2)

by S.E. Harmon

“Lieutenant,” I said desperately, “I don’t know if I mentioned this, but I am an emotionally stunted human being.”

“You’re funnier when I’ve had more than three hours of sleep.” “While your grumpiness is a delight any time of day,” I murmured to his back. “What was that?” “I said while you, dear, are a delight any time of day,” I said loudly.

Didn’t Danny know the rules? You always side with the guy who warms up the lube before he jams it in your ass.

“Last time I checked, we’re cops. We can’t turn down donuts. People will talk, Daniel.”

I was trained to protect myself, so I didn’t need him to make me feel that way. He just did. I wasn’t a ghost whisperer or a detective when I was with him. I was just Rain. I liked that—a lot.

If color had a smell, I was pretty sure Danny’s would be green, like the scent of freshly cut grass on a sunny, summer day.

“If it helps, you’re a very nice-looking man.” “What?” “Personally, I go for dark haired guys,” he said earnestly. “Blue eyes. Built and tall. You know the type.” “Intimately,” I said.

“You know I love you, right?” I asked. The skin around his eyes crinkled as he stared at me for a moment. We didn’t trot out that phrase all that often, and I preferred it that way. It made things all that more meaningful when we did.

“You didn’t say it back, you know.” He looked at me blankly. “Say what?” “That you love me.” “In other obvious news, the sky is also blue.” He made a sound that was a little exasperated and a little fond too. “Of course I love you. More importantly, I like you.”

“Love is this unstoppable force that you have very little control over. Sometimes you love the people that you shouldn’t. Sometimes you love people who’ve hurt you over and over again.”

“That’s love for you. Making decisions all on its own. I don’t have any say in that. I love you because my heart says so.” He sent me a crooked smile. “I like you because I say so.”

His arm tightened and pulled me in even closer, so we were flush against one another. “Everything is fine when I get to hold you like this.” “Smooth talking devil.” He chuckled and kissed the nape of my neck. “Go back to sleep.”

I settled back into him more firmly, resting a hand on the arm he’d locked around me. Apparently, he had no problems passing any tests I threw at him. “Besides,” he murmured into my neck, “I’m in no hurry to be anyplace you’re not.” With flying colors.

I watched him walk away, equal parts amused and irritated. I didn’t bother to inform him that he was the cause of my racing pulse, not coffee. It was a little embarrassing that even after all this time, just his thumb on my wrist was enough to make me nervous and stupid and my palms a little sweaty… not just in a sexual way, but an I Can’t Believe He’s Mine kind of way. Every time. We could have worse problems.

“Life would just be so much easier if I didn’t mind disappointing you.” “I’m sure it would.” Those blue eyes crinkled at the corners in an achingly familiar way. “I love you.” Ah, how sweet. I offered him my own particular brand of romance. “Drop dead.” I closed the door on his loud and hearty laughter, a smile tugging at my mouth.

I felt an overwhelming surge of love for him. No one cared about me like he did. No one. And I suspected no one loved me like he did either, although my mother would probably have something to say about that. Something loud. For that, I could forgive him for being the most overprotective protector that ever protected. “I love you.”

“You’ll need me in a zombie apocalypse.” “Yeah, I will. I plan on making a fucking beeline to your house.” “I’ll keep the storm shutters up for an hour. Then I gotta close them and lock the house up tight.” “One hour? That’s it?” I snapped the gloves over my fingers. “Don’t I deserve at least two? I’m the love of your fucking life.”

I put my hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off. I clasped my hands together to keep from reaching for him again. Not touching Danny was like holding my breath—I couldn’t do it for very long.

“I need you,” he all but shouted, voice echoing off the tile. He looked down at his hands as if just realizing they were balled into fists and let them drop. “I know they need you. But fuck, Rain, I need you, too.”

I knew he worried about not having my back, but I never was. I’d never felt so safe and cared for in my entire life.

“I, Daniel McKenna, promise to love, hold, honor, and cherish you. And always say yes to shower sex.” His voice was a deep rumble, laced with threads of amusement. “There will always be room in my bed for you and only you, as long as you shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”

Dear Diary, Today I was given permission to be the saltiest motherfucker that ever walked the earth.

We may not be on the same page, but dammit, we were always reading the same book.

“I said I’m fine.” My voice was muffled in his shirt. I wasn’t sure which of us I was trying to convince. Maybe, just maybe, I was shaking a little. “I know,” he said into my hair. “This is for me.”

contrary, and maybe to see if he would. I could feel his smile against my temple. “No.” And because no one was giving out tough-guy awards, I caved. I slid my arms around his back. “Don’t let go yet,” I said into his shirt.

“You know me.” He sat up with a sigh, mustering the energy to roll us both so I was on top. Those big hands moved up and down my spine by rote, making me shiver. “Anything that makes you happy is fine by me.”