Ghosts of Halloween: A Dark Why Choose Romance

Jack’s already waiting for me outside when I’m done with my shift. When I get in the car and give him a kiss, his lips are cool but eager, and he slips his hand under my winter hat to bury his fingers in my hair.

“I don’t smell takeout,” I say as I pull back, pressing my lips together to hold on to the sparks. I know I’m needy, but after a day of not seeing my men, I’m starved for touch. It seems unimaginable I could live without the sparks before I met them.

“Cay and Silas are cooking.” Jack grins like he knows a secret he won’t share and butterflies take off in my belly, swooping with pleasure.

“Oh? What’s the special occasion?” I ask, bouncing in my seat as we pull into traffic.

“You’ll see, princess. I really hope you’ll like it.”

Now I just can’t wait. All the tiredness after a day of working drains out of my body, excitement thrumming in my limbs. I fidget in my seat, biting my tongue to keep myself from barraging Jack with questions. He glances at me, his grin wide and happy, and god, but this is it. It’s one of those small moments when happiness slams into me with the force of a truck, leaving me breathless and dizzy.

I never imagined a person could feel happy every day like this. I’m still shocked whenever it happens, even though I have so many of these moments now.

When Silas or Jack slips into my bed. When Caden kisses me good morning. When we sit together in the evening, eating our takeout dinner, talking about how the day went, and someone always leans into me or touches me casually. Fingers twined together, a hand on my thigh, nails softly scratching my scalp. This seems all like normal human stuff, but to me, it’s beyond precious.

“Everything good at work?” Jack asks, still grinning.

I quickly tell him about my boring day, and he listens avidly like every word from my lips has some hidden meaning he’s intent to decipher. This is new, too. Being listened to, being important. It makes my heart swell with painful gratitude.

When we get home, I smell dinner from the door, spaghetti sauce rife with Italian spices and a hint of garlic. In the kitchen, Cay and Silas stand by the stove together, bickering. Silas looks hot and overdressed in an immaculate black shirt and black pants, while Caden has a frilly apron on. Even as they quarrel, they stand so close together their arms touch, and I know it’s not serious.

They never actually fight, but at this point, I’m convinced friendly verbal sparring is their love language.

“Paprika doesn’t belong in spaghetti sauce, you dilettante,” Silas says, his voice dripping with scorn. “You messed up all our hard work. I don’t even know how to salvage it now.”

“There’s nothing to salvage. Just taste it,” Caden says, dipping a spoon in the big pan of sauce. When Silas jerks dramatically away, he snorts. “You don’t want to because you know I’m right. It tastes as good as it smells. Come on, baby. Give it a lick.”

“I’m not your fucking baby,” Silas huffs, turning away from the stove. “Why are you just standing there? Wash your hands and pour the wine.”

He arches an arrogant eyebrow at me and Jack, and I can’t help it. I grin so widely, my face hurts as I bound closer and stand on tiptoes to kiss him softly. “Hey, grumpy chef.”

His face softens and he smiles back, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Hey, angel. Everything good?” When I nod, he snorts, glancing at the bubbling sauce. “Do me a favor and pretend you like the food. Caden spoiled it, but I don’t want him to feel bad. Tell him it’s delicious, so he doesn’t mope.”

“I can hear you, asshole,” Cay says, putting a lid on the sauce before turning to us. “Hey, Harlow. The sauce will be awesome and the arrogant prick knows it, too. Dinner’s almost ready.”

I kiss him and before I can pull back, Caden wraps his arms around me, pressing me close as he slicks his tongues inside. My perfunctory peck on the lips turns into a slow, delicious make-out session. Caden devours me with care, his hands settling on my ass as he pulls me closer still, our hips flush until I feel him growing hard.

“Show-off,” Jack mutters behind me, wine glasses tinkling as he puts them on the table.

That makes Caden grin against my mouth. He pulls back, dark eyes locking on mine. My knees are weak and I’m so horny, I could forego dinner and suck Caden’s cock instead. Gladly.

“You’ve almost burned the garlic bread,” Silas scoffs, spoiling the moment. “You’re really hopeless in the kitchen.”

“I knew you’d take care of it,” Caden says with a smirk before he drops one last tender kiss on my lips. “Missed you, little bird.”

“I missed you, too,” I whisper, pressing my face into the warm crook of his neck so I can breathe in his scent. He smells so good, masculine and strong, the lingering notes of his cologne making me feel safe and grounded.

I love all three of them, but there are flavors to my love. Each is different, though all equally strong. With Caden, I feel at peace. He is my safe harbor, and I cling to him now. Even though I had a good day and nothing bad happened to me, being out there in the world still carries some anxiety. Cuddled in Cay’s arms, I can let go and finally breathe.

“Come on, lovebirds. Your food will get cold.” Silas pulls my chair out for me, and another small burst of happiness goes off in my belly. I love this side of him—the meticulous, well-mannered perfectionist who insists on doing things “the right way”. Meaning, his way.

“Thank you,” I say with a smile, spreading a napkin in my lap. Silas gives me an approving look, and I glow with pride. He’s not effusive by any means, but I’m learning to read all the little signs of his moods and reactions. The way he arches an eyebrow or curls his lip, the way his fingers twitch when he has an urge to touch somebody but hesitates before committing.

Jack pours my wine and leans in to drop a hot kiss on my nape. “Eat up. We have a surprise for you, but dinner first.”

“What?” I look around the table, feigning outrage. “You can’t drop a bomb like this and expect me to sit calmly and eat. I want my surprise!”

Silas snorts, unimpressed, Caden smiles indulgently, while Jack gives me a shit-eating grin. I know I’m being childish but the thing is… I can now. For the longest time, I couldn’t, because the missing arm was a gaping crack in my armor, and I couldn’t afford to have any other vulnerabilities. I never allowed myself to be spontaneous with other people.

With my men, I can drop my shields. Maybe not all of them all the time, but enough.

“There will be no surprise if you don’t eat everything on your plate,” Caden says calmly, still smiling.

My skin tingles under his mock-stern gaze, and now I squirm in my chair. “Yes, Daddy,” I say with a grin.

“Just what we needed,” Silas drawls while Jack throws his head back dramatically before looking at me, his cheeks darkening with a horny blush. Caden’s eyes sparkle with appreciation, but I’m done teasing him. I tuck in, eager to be done so I can see my surprise.

“This is so good,” I say after I swallow the first bite. And it really is. The sauce is flavorful, the pasta just firm enough, and I’m ready to forget my surprise, at least until I’m done eating.

“Thank you for doing as I asked,” Silas says with a smirk. Now it looks like I’m complimenting the food only because he asked me to. Bastard. I can tell he enjoys Caden’s cooking.

Before Caden can react, I turn to him and smile sweetly. “I love your sauce in my mouth, Daddy.”

Silas chokes on his next bite while Caden and Jack laugh. We raise our glasses and clink them over the plate of garlic bread while Silas coughs violently. Once he’s done, wiping his face with a napkin, I reach under the table to squeeze his thigh. He covers my hand with his, and I know we’re okay.

“All right, close your eyes,” Jack says after we’re done with dinner, the dishwasher humming away. He points me toward the door out of the kitchen and covers my eyes with his warm, big hands. “Let’s go. I’ll take care of you.”Exclusive content from NôvelDrama.Org.

I start walking, my insides swooping with excitement. Caden and Silas follow, quiet for once, and I feel a stab of nervousness. What if the surprise isn’t nice? What if it’s, I don’t know, all my things packed for me? What if they decided they don’t want me anymore, that I should leave?

I struggle with fears like this daily, but I’m learning to deal with them, too. So now, I take a deep breath, relax my face and shoulders, and put my hand on top of Jack’s for comfort. He stops, leans in to kiss the top of my head, and some of the fear abates.

Maybe someday, I won’t have these fears at all. But even if I keep having them, it’s all right. My boys are here, loving me, and they will never let me go.

I hope.

“Steps,” Jack murmurs, sneaking one hand around my waist while the other covers my eyes. “Lean into me and walk up.”

I count the steps as we go. There are fourteen, and counting grounds me, as does the warm, reassuring presence of Jack at my back.

“We’re on the landing,” Jack says helpfully. “Go right.”

My bedroom’s left, so I breathe in relief. The surprise is not a packed suitcase, then. But what is it, then? I breathe fast in excitement, my body growing jittery, the wine I drank with dinner adding to the pleasant thrum in my veins.

“Stop here,” Silas says from behind.

Jack turns me slightly so I face the wall or a door. I sigh impatiently, bouncing on my feet as Jack steps back. His hand falls away, and I blink my eyes open.