Ascension Bailey Bradford (best 7 inch ereader .TXT) 📖

And so could Sev. Ro saw the sadness Sev tried to hide. It had etched lines around his eyes and mouth, and dimmed the enthusiasm that used to shine so bright in Sev’s eyes.

“Someone has to be here for them,” Ro finally said when he couldn’t stand another moment of silence. “One of their kids should, at least, and I won’t ask that of my sister or brother. They have dreams that don’t involve staying in McKinton, and I really do like my job.”

“But—” Sev began and Ro was done arguing.

“No, Sev. I don’t have the drive, the…the ambition that I’d need to do something else. I’m comfortable here. It’s where I want to be, even if that means living with my parents. They need me, no matter what they say.” Truly, the only thing he’d wanted was to be like Sev, but he wasn’t, not really. Sev could have been his father, they were so alike in looks, both on the short side with slender builds and dark, glossy black hair. Well, Ro’s was natural, while he suspected, now, that Sev’s had some help courtesy of L’Oréal. Sev was also more muscular, but they had the same green-gray eyes and honey-colored skin. Celadon, that was the name of the color, if he wanted to get technical about it. Sharing those traits with Sev had given Ro so much hope that he’d inherit more things from Sev, but he hadn’t, and that was that.

“Let’s just enjoy our meal and stop harping on him,” Laine rumbled. “Sorry, Ro, since I’m the one that started it.”

Ro rolled his neck once Sev moved his hand. He got a good pop out of it and grinned when that sound made Laine wince. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard it. I’m over it.” He cast a teasing glance at Sev. “So, how long have you been dying that gray?”

Ro grinned as Sev shook his fork at Laine. “You told!”

Satisfied with the distraction he’d created, Ro sat back and enjoyed the show.

Chapter Two

The thing about being dead was that he really lost track of time. Understandable, Conner supposed, considering time didn’t affect him anymore.

Well, not him personally, as in his spirit form. But it did affect him in other ways, like when he had to watch those he’d left behind in life. To see them age, and grow frail—

Laine would shit bricks if he knew what Conner was thinking. Laine wouldn’t know, though. Conner could communicate with his former lover to an extent but, for the most part, the art of conversation was lost between the veil of the living and the dead.

Severo, Laine’s partner—and Conner couldn’t have picked a better-suited man for Laine had he tried…which, okay, he might have meddled some—could communicate with spirits somewhat. The bond with Conner was the strongest, and that was owing in part to Conner’s determination to have a relationship with Laine. To do so entailed having one with Sev, and maybe Conner had been a little—or a lot—jealous at first, but Sev had come to mean a lot to Conner over the years. Plus, Sev loved Laine, really loved him like Conner wished he had before he’d died.

Still, Conner had loved Laine enough to die for him, although if he’d been given a choice, he’d have lived and kept Laine safe, too. Whether or not they’d have made it together for the rest of their lives, Conner couldn’t say. Sometimes he thought not, because they’d been so closeted, but who was to say how Fate would have played out if Conner hadn’t been murdered by a stalker who’d wanted Laine?

It didn’t help to wonder. Conner had long since stopped doing so because watching Laine and Sev had finally stopped making him hurt with that sharp edge of want, and had started comforting him. It was good to see them happy and loving each other. Hot, too, although Conner tried not to spy on them when they were having sex…now. He had been a bit of a Peeping Tom for a while, but he knew Laine and Sev hadn’t minded. In fact, he thought once they’d got past the idea of him being Laine’s ex, him watching had added a bit of spice now and then.

Now, it was hard for Conner to watch them. He’d started noticing things like the almost solid gray of Laine’s hair and the wrinkles lining Sev’s face, although the man battled them with every cream he could find. They weren’t so deep or numerous, but they were there, along with strands of gray that Sev dyed black every month so they would match the rest of his hair.

At first Conner had been amused, and had taken great pleasure in teasing Sev, hiding his dye and spreading his face cream on the mirror to look like…well, lots of things. Conner could easily get restless, distracted, and once he’d got the hang of making parts of himself substantial enough to move things in the living world, he’d kind of gone overboard.

He was just astounded because it seemed like yesterday that he’d been thinking about how he used to watch Laine and Sev and admire their firm bodies and their sheer livingness. How many years had he been dead now? Conner looked at the table where Laine had left the newspaper spread out.

Good old Laine, he’ll never upgrade to reading the news online. He used to get print smudges on his cheek and chin when— Conner stopped the thought more out of habit than anything else. Once it would have made him ache with regret and lost love, but those sensations had long ago ceased occurring, maybe because he had stopped letting himself think on what he’d lost when he’d been murdered.

That whole nasty episode wasn’t something he’d ever forget. He wondered if he’d have felt any better about dying if he’d known spirits existed back then. Conner had known he wouldn’t live to escape his situation before he’d actually died.