Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
ALENA
“Please say you’re coming to their wedding,” Vale pleads, as if she were begging in front of me.
“I’m shopping for a dress now.”
I talk on my phone, flipping through a rack of summer fashion on clearance, with early fall crisping the mountain air.
“I’ll hold your hand the entire flight,” she says. “Whatever support you need to be around him.”
I grin. “I’m fine. I’m around him all the time at work. Besides…” I eye a dusty-pink lace boho maxi dress. “Shouldn’t you be holding my dad’s hand now?”
“He’s put a ring on it, yes, but I won’t marry him until you and Loch are back together. I can’t be happy if you’re miserable.”
“No pressure,” I mutter, selecting a backless blue silk dress now.
“None whatsoever,” she fibs. “Besides, Axel and Ruby are in a rush. I think Ruby really wants to get pregnant, while I have a giant new house to paint black. So, take your time. A.K.A., three months, max.”
I laugh. “Okay, unicorn, slow your trot. It took me a month to stop crying, another not to shoot Loch, and another to process that you killed a sex trafficker with a golf club, who tried to attack me, before my dad shot him. Oh, and don’t forget the whole Bratva thing,” I whisper.
“But now? I’m finally feeling myself. I’m focused on work.
Hiking a bunch. The leaves are changing.
It’s PSL season, and I’ve earned a little vacay in Mykonos. ”
The only thing I worry about is Sasha. What if she escapes from her husband’s clutches and tries to find me? But my boss said he told the entire station. And they know I’ll put a bullet in their dick if they don’t take care of her until I can.
It’s only one week, and I’ll be back.
Vale sighs, “I think it’s sweet how Ruby invited you. Like you’re not just Axel’s goddaughter; you might be her sister-in-law one day.”
I sag, pulling the curtain closed to the changing room.
I want to tell Vale about Axel. But I need to do the right thing. If I ever tell anyone, it’ll be Loch first. If I can speak to him without getting all teary.
“Ruby’s a sweetheart, yes. So is Wren, I’ve heard. And Zar. And Delphine.” I sigh. “God, I can’t keep up with all the spouses and who’s who.”
Vale chirps, “That’s why this wedding trip is perfect. You can relax. Get to know everyone. No more secrets, and maybe, just maybe, get your OnlyFans freak on with LuvPounder and DirtTGirl again. I’ve been online, girl. Your fans are blowing up comments, missing you two.”
I shake my head, missing so many things.
“Okay, let me try these dresses on and send you pics.” I change the subject. “Be honest.”
“Okay, honestly, you and that cake are hot, so I need bikini pics.”
“Why?” I smile at my reflection. Finally, loving it. “I heard the beaches are nude in Greece.”
“Hell, yes!” She crows. “That’s my kinky stepdaughter!”
“Ew, Vale!”
She laughs, ending our call.
With a bag full of dresses on my arm, I dart into our local bookstore for some beach reads.
This popular mountain town is famous for its live music, breweries, and vintage stores. It’s always crawling with tourists and local college students.
Two are giggling, one aisle over.
I try ignoring them. Scanning the colorful spines, I select an eclectic mix: a self-help book on forgiveness, a science book on gathering moss (it’s a thing), and an erudite best-seller that’ll probably make me sleep.
So I aim for the romance aisle next and hear more girly giggles.
“He’s checking out the M/M hockey romance,” a voice whispers. “Oh my god, I’m in lust.”
“Why?” A feminine voice counters, “That means he’s into men, and we don’t stand a chance.”
“Girl”—she claps back—“with that ink and swole ass; everyone deserves a chance with him.”
When I round the corner to the lone, long aisle of romance books, I spot their attraction.
Loch, at the end cap, his muscles popping out of an Army-green T-shirt and camo pants, is checking out the staff’s romance picks, making two local girls drench their panties over his huge package and hot selection.
But I swoon when he senses me, I swear.
Smiling up from his shameless cover, he shows off his book. “Babygirl, what do you think?”
Is he out of line calling me that?
Not when I know he’s doing it for his horny admirers, making it clear he’s claimed.
They slice their eyes at me while I scooch past them, “Excuse me, ladies. Gotta help my man out with his inked ass and M/M romance. And yes, bi is even hotter IRL than on the page.”
They skitter away as I close the distance, laughing, “You’re causing quite a cunty kerfuffle in the romance aisle.”
He shrugs, grinning. “Gotta have my beach reads.” He jerks his chin at my stack. “Whatchu bringing to Greece?”
Blushing, I show him my stack. The one on forgiveness puts me in my feels. I point to his, and he reveals more than their steamy covers.
“I get ones I think Jace will like. I go for alphas, he’s into aliens, our brothers give us shit for our romance books, but they’re the fools. It’s like earning a PhD in pussy.” He splutters. “I… I mean, those are Delphine’s words, not mine. I don’t want to—”
“It’s okay.” I hug my stack. “Delphine’s the one, isn’t she? Your first who taught you so much?”
I’ve had months to piece things together. And the pieces aren’t sharp anymore. They don’t cut. They’re falling into place.
But his handsome face bends, worried like he’s hurting me again. “Yes, she was. But I didn’t love her. I swear. Not like—”
“Loch, it’s okay. I’m okay.” I exhale, meaning it and not crying anymore.
In fact, dammit, I want to smile, to laugh.
So I grab the nearest book off the romance shelf.
Drawn to a dark cover with a hot man on the front, I shove it into his hands, teasing, “Here. Think you and Jace can handle reading this heat on the beach?”
Proudly, he flips it over, scanning the blurb. “His daughter’s new nanny? Fuck yeah, I’m in. And Jace is always hot for a Harley.”
I laugh. He laughs. It’s contagious, and what I need after months of pain, making me grip my books so tight because, “Oh shit…”
He smirks. “You gotta pee, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.”
Yes, I do. I shove my stack in his full hands and dash to the ladies’ room.
By the time I emerge, Loch’s holding our bought books in a canvas tote and two iced pumpkin-spiced lattes from the bookstore’s coffee counter.
Goddamn, this man is perfection. But I need to meet him all over again.
Shyly, he shrugs a hulking shoulder. “I’m in the market for some flip-flops. You?”
And he knows it, so we spend the afternoon shopping for the trip. Laughing at ourselves in stunna shades. Flamingo swim shorts that can’t contain his size. And me in hats so floppy, I’ll walk, blinded, off a cliff into the Aegean Sea.
Then he invites me for wings at a local brewery, our laughing faces covered in sticky sauce, before he follows my truck home in his.
Joy bubbles like champagne in my veins. Like every day I spent with Loch before.
I stand by my truck; he stands by his. Our cabins await, our booted feet shuffling over gravel. There’s so much to say, but we don’t.
Until Loch smirks, eyes sparkling. “I really loved stalking you today, Alena. And for the record: it wasn’t boring.”
With a flash, I realize…
All the times Loch told me the truth.
All the ways he wove fact through fable.
All the moments he made as real and romantic as possible.
Because he knew. He knew he’d lose me, so he fought for me as long as he could.
But now it’s just him and me and the truth.
And he’s never looked this beautiful.
“Glad it wasn’t boring.” I swallow, shrugging. “Careful though: my trip tomorrow to the drugstore for sunscreen will be a real snoozer.”
He laughs, and I fight the pull—hot air to a cold mountain. I’m not ready for our storm again. Not yet.
I’m not ready to say good night either.
But we do.