Love Conventions

by Morgan James

“Aye.” Ash cleared his throat and touched his pendant. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the past week. About what I want. I’ve no’ been thinking lately, only… going along, assuming I felt like always.”

  “Oh.” Remy’s voice shook. “So if I’d waited or given you time….” His shoulders dropped, and his mouth downturned. He looked gutted.

  “I prob’ly would have been an arse. I was an arse.” Ash swallowed. “I’m sorry I didn’t ever stop to think. You were right—”

  “I wasn’t any better. I—if I’d been thinking right, I never would have started dating you without bringing it up first. I guess I kind of got carried away in the romance of it all.” Remy gave a weak chuckle and fussed with his cuff some more.

  “No. I—I was worse. I got carried away and I didn’t stop to even think about what I wanted anymore—”

  Another knock sounded at the door, and Remy and Ash jumped.

  “That would be room service,” Etta called from the bedroom. And when had she moved there?

  Etta emerged and headed for the door. Ash’s feet were rooted to the carpet, and judging by Remy’s wide eyes, he felt just as gobsmacked.

  Etta accepted the room service and tipped the server. “Well, I’ll leave you boys to it.” She took a plate to her room and firmly shut the door.

  Ash cleared his throat. “Why—you came for the con?”

  Remy looked down and shifted awkwardly. “I bought the ticket weeks ago.”

  “Oh.” Before everything went to shite. “But… why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Was gonna be a surprise,” Remy mumbled. “So, surprise?”

  “Ah. It’s… it’s a good surprise,” Ash said round the lump in his throat.

  “Yeah?” Remy’s lips trembled. And were those tears?

  “Aye.”

  Ash didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly they were in each other’s arms, clutching and grasping.

  “I’m sorry,” Ash whispered, his beard rasping against Remy’s cheek and neck.

  “Me too,” Remy choked. Definitely tears.

  “I know.” Time for some truth. “You… you’re all I want.” He took a deep breath. “I love you,” he whispered and closed his eyes. God, if Remy didn’t say it back—

  Remy pulled back enough to look into Ash’s eyes. “Really?”

  God, how could he doubt it? Ash had really buggered this up. “Of course I do. I love you so—”

  Remy stoppered his words with a deep kiss. Ash returned it, tightening his arms, hardly daring to believe he was tasting that soft sweet mouth again.

  And yet… Remy hadn’t said it back. Ash’s heart skipped a beat, and he kissed harder. If this was a last kiss, he would take all he could.

  They parted, barely.

  “I love you too,” Remy breathed out, making Ash’s heart beat double time. “So fucking much.” He kissed Ash’s jaw, his cheek. “It fucking killed me to walk away, but I knew… I was in so fucking deep already, and I couldn’t—”

  “I know,” Ash soothed. He found it easier to sound calm now that buoying light bubbled through his chest. “I know. I was a dunderheid, remember? A right dafty walloper. We already went over this. I know.” He ran his hands in gentle circles and bumped his nose to Remy’s cheek.

  Remy gave a shuddering sigh and snogged him dirtily. Ash shivered, but this couldn’t wait.

  “Remy, I know I don’t deserve it, but I want tae ask you to-to—”

  “Yes?”

  “Take me back,” he blurted. “I know I dinnae deserve it, deserve you. I well messed up.” He licked his lips. “I hurt you when Adele came to visit, and I’m so sorry. Ever since, I’ve been wishing I’d told her the truth, called you my boyfriend. And I still want you to be—”

  “Yes,” Remy gasped. “Yes, of course. God, you, you dunderheed.” He sniffed. “Fuck. We’re doing this.”

  “Yes,” Ash whispered fervently, elatedly.

  “Good. Because this past week has really sucked.”

  “Aye. It has. Been utter shite.”

  “Well, it’s looking up.” Remy gave a watery smile.

  Ash took a deep shuddering breath and pressed their foreheads together. “Aye.”

  “Good.” Remy kissed him, then pulled back with an hysterical choked laugh. “I’m gonna have to email that professor again. Tell him no thanks after all.”

  “Mythfits will keep you.” Ash squeezed him. “And you’ll just have to publish that novel.”

  “Yeah. Guess so,” Remy agreed, and Ash cupped his cheek and gave him another lingering kiss. He couldn’t help it.

  “How about we have dinner,” Ash murmured.

  “Dinner is good.” They turned to the room service cart, and Ash noticed the two plates for the first time. He snorted. “You and Etta planned this?”

  Remy smiled. “She might have given me your room number.”

  “I’d complain about meddling, but I cannae gripe about what brings me you.” He shuffled closer again.

  “Aw, you romantic, you.” Remy smiled and ran a finger down the tip of Ash’s nose. “We owe her, it’s true.”

  Ash hummed and kissed Remy again, just because he could.

  His stomach growled.

  Remy pulled back with a laugh. “Come on, my dunderheid, show me what you cooked me for dinner.” He laced their fingers together and took a step toward the room service trolley.

  Ash murmured, “With pleasure,” and helplessly followed Remy to the food.

  Epilogue

  “HAMISH and Niall are my favorites,” gushed the young fan who’d introduced himself with a breathy “I’m Steph.” Below his impressive afro, he gave Ash a wide-eyed look that could only be described as worshipful.

  Ash gave him a genuine smile. “Thank you.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “They’re mine too. Niamish forever, right?”

  The kid about swooned and floated away clutching his picture to his skinny chest.

  “I think he might be in love,” Remy whispered, as incorrigible a con partner as Etta.

  Ash looked over and wrinkled his nose. Remy winked.

  He was sat to Ash’s left and a little behind, with his phone in hand, a front-row seat to the autograph session, his favorite part of any con. He loved watching the fans get excited over Ash and heap praise on him, he said. He also loved the easy access it gave him to all the cosplays—he took the picture of anyone who came to Ash’s table dressed in costume. Having your picture taken by #AshsBoyfriend tended to be the goal of his fans now. Ash fucking loved it.

  An hour later, the last fan in the queue—which had been cut off for the day—shyly approached with her arms wrapped tightly round a sketchbook.

  She pointed to a picture of Ash as Zvi and gave a tiny smile when Ash read her name off the Post-it and introduced himself. “Pleasure to meet you, Alice.” He signed the photo with one of Zvi’s lines—“I’m a man AND a wolf.”—and scrawled his name. “Are you having a good weekend?” he asked, hoping she’d open up a bit. He never wanted his shier fans to feel they’d wasted an opportunity.

  “Oh yes,” she breathed.

  Ash smiled encouragingly. “That’s good.”

  “I have something for you,” she blurted. She flushed bright red but fumbled with her sketchbook and pulled out—

  “Holy shit,” Remy breathed.

  Holy shit indeed. She’d sketched Hamish in his brownie form, using regular pencil for him, but colored pencils to accent his fairy features and markings and to surround him with blooming flowers and artistic magicky-looking swirls. It was stunning.

  “Wow. That’s beautiful.” He gladly accepted it when she pushed it closer. “Thank you, Alice. You’re very talented.”

  Remy nodded enthusiastically. “That is so getting framed and put up on the wall.”

  A year ago, several months after Remy had started going to cons as Ash’s plus-one and after he’d moved into Ash and Etta’s place, Remy had co-opted one of the walls in the main room for “The Shr
ine.”

  On it Remy hung all of his favorite pieces of fanart Ash had been given. It was filling up fast, though, and they’d have to start rotating soon.

  Alice turned even pinker and squeaked, “Thank you.” Then she dug into her sketchbook and pulled out something else. “I heard you write all the werewolf stories, so I….” Looking even more nervous than she had with the first one, she handed Remy another drawing. This one was of Ash and Remy holding one of the many malamute puppies Mythfits had guest starred over the three series.

  “Whoa,” Remy breathed.

  “I saw you yesterday at the tables. I hope you don’t mind—” Alice started, but Remy jumped out of his seat and wrapped her in a bear hug.

  “Alice, you made my day. Thank you so much!” Remy pulled back so he could grin at her and at the sketch, his gaze bouncing between the two. “No one has ever made me anything before. This is so fucking awesome. Thank you.”

  Ash nodded. “Definitely, thank you.” On impulse, he grabbed another shot—as Hamish this time—and quickly wrote—To a fabulous artist—thank you! Then he stacked it with the one she’d paid for and handed them both over.

  “Oh, you don’t—” she protested, but Ash shook his head.

  “It’s the least I can do. Anyone who makes him smile like that deserves so much more.” He nodded his head to the still-beaming Remy.

  “It was my pleasure,” Alice whispered and hurried away.

  “Ash, Aaaash, looook.” Remy held out his drawing. “She made me art.”

  “I saw that,” Ash said as he stood and guided Remy out of the hall with a hand on the small of his back. Remy practically skipped all the way.

  “This is so cool.”

  “Another for ‘The Shrine’?”

  “I can hear the air quotes when you say it like that,” Remy muttered, but not with anger. “And of course not, this one is too special. Maybe the office?”

  About a week after he moved in, Remy took over Ash’s unused office so he could work on “the next great Canadian novel—or you know, some werewolf fantasy romp that sells a few copies.”

  “I think,” Ash said as they reached the exit, “your office is the perfect place to hang your first piece of art, sweetheart.” Then he leaned forward and kissed Remy sweetly on the mouth for all the con to see.

  MORGAN JAMES is a clueless (older) millennial, who’s still trying to figure out what she’ll be when she grows up but is enjoying the journey to get there. Now, with a couple of degrees, a few stints in Europe, and more than one false start to a career, she eagerly waits to see what’s next. Morgan started writing fiction before she could spell and wrote her first (unpublished) novel in middle school. She hasn’t stopped writing since. Geek, artist, and fangirl, Morgan tends to pass free hours with imaginary worlds and people on pages and screens—it’s an addiction. As is her love of coffee and tea. She lives in Canada with her massive collection of unread books and acts the personal servant of too many four-legged creatures. Twitter: @MorganJames71

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/morganjames007

  Coming in June 2019

  Dreamspun Desires #83

  The More the Merrier by Sean Michael

  The Teddy Bear Club

  Too much of a good thing?

  When Logan gets the call about newborn triplets in need of a home, he steps up, realizing too late the daunting task he’s taken on. He’d be lost without the men of the Teddy Bear Club—especially Dirk.

  Dirk even offers to spend spring break at Logan’s home, helping him and the babies settle in. He loves being a dad, and he wants to help Logan find the same joy. It doesn’t hurt that they enjoy spending time together.

  Before they even realize it, they’re settling into a routine… becoming a family.

  Falling in love.

  But their new bond is about to face the ultimate test. Will they come through and realize that with love, there’s no such thing as enough?

  Dreamspun Desires #84

  Fake Dating the Prince by Ashlyn Kane

  A royal deception. An accidental romance.

  When fast-living flight attendant Brayden Wood agrees to accompany a first-class passenger to a swanky charity ball, he discovers his date—“Call me Flip”—is actually His Royal Highness Prince Antoine-Philipe. And he wants Brayden to pretend to be his boyfriend.

  Being Europe’s only prince of Indian descent—and its only gay one—has led Flip to select “appropriate” men first and worry about attraction later. Still, flirty, irreverent Brayden captivates him right away, and Flip needs a date to survive the ball without being match-made.

  Before Flip can pursue Brayden in earnest, the paparazzi forces his hand, and the charade is extended for the remainder of Brayden’s vacation.

  Posh, gorgeous, thoughtful Prince Flip is way out of Brayden’s league. If Brayden survives three weeks of platonically sharing a bed with him during the romantic holiday season, going home afterward might break his heart….

  www.dreamspinnerpress.com

  Published by

  DREAMSPINNER PRESS

  5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA

  www.dreamspinnerpress.com

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

  Love Conventions

  © 2019 Morgan James.

  Editorial Development by Sue Brown-Moore.

  Cover Art

  © 2019 Alexandria Corza.

  http://www.seeingstatic.com/

  Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or www.dreamspinnerpress.com.

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-64080-728-0

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64108-103-0

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2018966304

  Digital published May 2019

  v. 1.0

  Printed in the United States of America