Chapter 3
THREE
The storm came in fast. Galen and I hurried around, picking up the leftover food and throwing away the paper plates before scurrying inside. We were barely through the door when the downpour started.
“Wow.” I breathed out a relieved sigh. “That was like a different world there for a minute.”
Galen gave me a sidelong look. “Storms hit out of the season but it’s rare.” He glanced through the window one more time and frowned at the pink lightning. “Is it just me, or is it a weird color?”
I shrugged. “I thought maybe it was the sunset’s reflection.”
He laughed and slung an arm around my shoulders to tug me close and kiss the top of my head. “You’re adorable.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I shook my head. “Let’s get everything put away. The cleanup should be easy since we already threw all the paper plates away.”
“I told you paper plates were the way to go.”
I’d wanted to use something fancier — we were entertaining his new brother after all — but I couldn’t deny that the paper products were easier to toss. “I’d say let’s wait until tomorrow morning, but I’ll whine if I have to clean first thing in the morning.”
“You will indeed,” he agreed.
I expected the storm to roll through fast, but it was still raging when we got to our bedroom on the second floor. In fact, it was stronger.
“So weird,” I muttered before shaking my head and going into the bathroom.
I washed my face and brushed my teeth before climbing into a pair of cotton sleep shorts and a tank top.
Galen went into the bathroom when I finished and brushed his teeth and washed his face.
When he emerged, he was in a pair of boxer shorts and had his discarded clothes — and mine — in his hand.
He winged up an eyebrow as he carried them to the hamper.
“You know, when we do get around to having a kid, you’re going to have to pick up your own laundry,” he said.
I made a face. “How is that a rule?”
“I have it on good authority that kids go through multiple outfits a day. There are spit-up issues … and poop issues.” His nose wrinkled. “They grow out of those issues relatively fast, don’t they?”
I laughed. “I’m not sure we’re ready for kids.”
“That’s why we’re going to enjoy married life for a year or two first.”
“You’re still okay with one?” I’d asked him that question so many times I’d lost count.
“I’ve already told you.” He sounded exasperated.
“But your mother makes it sound as if wolf shifters are supposed to have a full litter.”
“A litter?”
“That’s what they’re called,” I protested. “I looked it up. I asked Booker and he said that’s what they’re supposed to be called.”
“A litter suggests the mother is giving birth to multiple children,” he countered. “Pack is a better word.”
I considered it. “Do you want a pack?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?” I didn’t want to deprive the man of what he needed to be happy, but I couldn’t see myself having more than one or two kids. “Your mother said—”
He cut me off with a firm headshake. “My mother had one child. Who is she to tell you how many you’re supposed to have?”
“Booker said—”
“Booker is messing with you. He thinks it’s funny to wind you up like a toy and point you at me.” He moved closer. “Do you really think Booker and Lilac are going to have more than one child?”
I could see that. “I bet they have a whole baseball team. When they start, they won’t be able to stop.”
“Lilac would enjoy being a soccer mom,” Galen conceded. “She’s going to be a great mother. Given their kids will have fire and air elements to throw around magically, I’m not sure they can keep up with more than one or two.”
My mind was a busy place as Galen climbed into bed. He cast me a pointed look when I remained standing in front of the window, pink lightning illuminating the room around us.
“Are you coming?” he prodded, lifting the sheet. We kept a light blanket on the bed. It was too hot to ever worry about anything more.
I rolled in next to him, resting my head on his shoulder. Galen was a cuddler and I didn’t mind it, but the man ran hot, especially during a restorative sleep. I would be a sweaty mess if he forgot halfway through the night and took his position as the big spoon.
“What are you thinking?” Galen asked when I didn’t say anything for a long stretch.
“I guess … well … I just want to make sure.” I was earnest when I looked up at him. “Your happiness is important to me.”
He chuckled. “I am happy, Hadley.”
“But will you stay that way?”
“As long as I have you, yes. We could have no children and I will still be happy.”
“You don’t want children?”
“I do want one. I think I’ll be a good father. I can even see us with two, but there would be several years between them. Nothing beyond that.”
“Okay.” I allowed myself to relax.
“Will you stop asking that question now?” He sounded hopeful.
“I’ll try.” It was the best I could do. “I get a little nervous sometimes. In two months I’m going to get everything I ever wanted but it feels as if the world will try to slap me back.”
“We won’t let the world do that.” He tugged me tighter against him. “It’s going to be okay.” He used his free hand to turn off the lamp on the nightstand.
Pink lightning illuminated the window. The rain was still coming down in a torrent. The thunder rumbled around the lighthouse.
“Let’s talk about the wedding,” Galen said in a soft voice. “That will get you to wind down.”
“I was thinking about something else to wind me down,” I teased, my fingers dancing over his chest.
“Is that so?”
I was solemn when I looked into his eyes. The frequent lightning made that possible. “Only if you’re feeling up to it.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“I know how much you love a challenge.”
His eyes turned wolfish and his nostrils flared. “There’s only one thing I love more,” he said.
“It had better be me.”
“Forever.”
I smiled.
“Now get ready to be wowed, because I’m going to challenge you until you pass out and get some sleep.”
GALEN WAS A MORNING PERSON, inevitably awake before me. I tended to struggle toward wakefulness. For me, greeting the day was a three-step process. The first step was the morning snuggle.
“Morning,” Galen said as I rolled to rest my head on his shoulder. He made room, going so far as to kiss the top of my head. “How are you feeling today?”
“Sleepy,” I replied.
His mouth slid into a sexy smile. “Your hair is … interesting.” He lightly tugged a strand.
I was not one of those who woke refreshed and relaxed. Galen looked somehow better when he woke. His beard was thick first thing in the morning — he could grow facial hair faster than anybody I’d ever known — and his eyes were always filled with amusement rather than grumpiness.
I, on the other hand, woke up looking as if I’d slept in a wind tunnel. If I remembered to braid my hair before bed it wasn’t as bad, but that rarely happened. Sometimes it felt as if I needed an industrial rake to get through my hair. The humidity on the island only made things worse.
“I’m not ready for banter yet,” I warned him. “I need ten minutes of this.” I gestured to my hand on his chest.
“Fair enough.” Galen was good about letting me wake at my own speed. He was a big fan of running on the beach in the morning, but he’d essentially given it up since meeting me. He said keeping up with my antics was cardio enough.
He hummed to himself as he went back to looking at his phone. “You want your father to come for the wedding. Have you given him the date?”
“I emailed him,” I replied. “He’s coming.”
“Good. Anyone else from the mainland you want to come?”
That was a sticky question. “I don’t know.”
“You had friends. I’ve seen the photos.”
Of course I had friends before moving to Moonstone Bay. They’d tried to talk me out of coming to the island. Given my financial situation — I was out of work and struggling — I couldn’t ignore a free home on a tropical island.
My initial assumption was that I would come to the island, get the lighthouse in order, maybe spend a few months doing a lifestyle cleanse, and then sell the property and move back to the mainland. I’d told my friends that was my plan.
It hadn’t worked out that way.
“I don’t know.” I pursed my lips.
“You’re not saying something,” Galen guessed. He was the sheriff, so he was fairly intuitive. I hated when I felt I was going through an interrogation.
“I just … I haven’t talked to any of them in more than a year. I’m a terrible person.”
Galen’s brow furrowed. “Excuse me? How does that make you a terrible person?”
“I said that I would be in touch. I even said …” I didn’t finish it out.
“I know that you weren’t planning on staying forever when you first moved here,” he said in a gentle voice. There was none of his usual swagger propelling the words. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for planning things the way you did.”
I slid my eyes up to his, looking for a hint that he wasn’t telling the truth.
“Hadley, you moved to an island where you didn’t know anybody, including the grandmother who left you this lighthouse.” He smiled. “It’s not all that surprising that you assumed it wouldn’t work out.”
“I think I romanticized the idea of living in a lighthouse,” I admitted. “I mean … that’s the stuff of books.”
“The sort of books that have a handsome leading man.”
“Of course,” I replied. “Book boyfriends can’t be uggos.”
He burst out laughing. “Is that what I am? A book boyfriend?”
I shrugged. “Pretty much.” He looked far too cocky for my comfort level. “Don’t get too excited. Booker and Brody are book boyfriends too.”
His smile disappeared. “Booker is not a book boyfriend.”
“Did you even know that term existed before today?”
“No, but I know what it means.” Galen was adamant. “Booker doesn’t fit the bill.”
“A guy who was best friends with his love interest for years, only seeing her as a best friend, right up until she has a world-changing epiphany that he’s integral to?
You know, like having to be the funnel for her powers so she didn’t explode and destroy the whole island?
That doesn’t sound like a book boyfriend? ”
“I’m way better looking,” Galen huffed.
“It’s not about looks. It’s about what you feel in your heart.”
He poked my side. “What do you feel in your heart?”
“That you’re the perfect man ninety percent of the time.”
“And the other ten percent?”
“I want to dunk your head in the surf until you get over yourself.”
He didn’t immediately respond. Ultimately, he shrugged. “I feel the same way about you.”
“Oh, no.” I was smiling when I shook my head, happy to play the game. “I’m perfect. You’re almost perfect.”
He gave me a severe look but he couldn’t hold out. His grin was a thing of beauty. “You are perfect.” He gave me a kiss. “You’re also stalling.” He was serious when pulling back. “Don’t you want to invite your friends from home?”
Why was this so important to him? “How do I explain when some monster crashes the reception and we have to use magic to beat it back?”
“The odds of a monster crashing the reception are low.”
“But not zero.”
He opened his mouth, then shut it. I could hear the gears in his mind grinding. “I get it,” he said, “but we’re only doing this once. I want you to have people who are there for you.”
“I’ll have my dad … and Wesley.” My curmudgeonly grandfather had taken up ownership of a lot of real estate in my heart. “He’s fond of you, but he’ll totally be there for me.”
Galen smirked.
“And I’ll have Lilac and Aurora. Of course, they’ll be there for you too. In fact, if they had to choose between us, they would choose you.”
“That’s not true.” He shook his head. “Lilac adores you.”
“What about Aurora?”
He shrugged. “Aurora favors me one day and you the next. That’s simply the way she rolls.”
“Yeah.” I rubbed my cheek. “Lilac is going to be my maid of honor. You’re having Booker stand up for you, right?”
Galen looked thrown by the question. “Um … .”
“He’s your best friend,” I reminded him.
“Stop saying that. We’re mortal enemies.”
Nobody — not even Booker and Galen — still believed that, but I didn’t bother correcting him this time. “We should coordinate Booker’s outfit with a dress for Lilac. It will make for pretty photos. You know … because I’ll be wearing a white dress.”
Galen’s eyes gleamed. “I’m very excited for the white dress.”
“I find that weird, but whatever gets your motor revving.” I tapped his phone. “What else are you looking at?”
“I was thinking about food.”
I opened my mouth but he cut me off.
“We’re getting a seafood bar, Hadley,” Galen said. “We’re having steak, too. That way we’ll both be happy.”
“Fine. Just make sure there are crab legs.”
“I can’t wait to see you make a mess of yourself at a wedding reception with crab legs.” His smile told me he meant it.
Something occurred to me. “Will you be speaking with your mother again by then?”
“If I’m not, she’ll fake forgive me for the ceremony. There’s no way she’s missing out on the attention associated with being the mother of the groom.”
“And, what, she’ll go back to being mad after the ceremony?”
“If she’s dedicated enough,” Galen confirmed.
All I could do was shake my head. “She needs to get over herself. She can’t control you.”
“She will never give up trying.” Galen moved to place his phone on the nightstand, his eyes gleaming with lascivious intent as he started to roll toward me. I knew exactly what he had on his mind. It was on my mind too. His phone dinged with an incoming message.
“Hold that thought,” he growled.
I laughed and nodded. Talk of the wedding inevitably got him going.
Galen glanced at his phone and all of the light vacated his eyes.
“What is it?” I demanded, abandoning all thoughts of a little morning delight.
“I need you to stay calm,” Galen replied.
Oh, sure, that was the way to tell me bad news. “Galen.”
He was resigned when he looked up from his phone. “The guys in dispatch just got a call. Wesley is missing.”
It took me a moment to compute what he said. “What?”
“Wesley, he’s missing.”
Wesley’s men were used to his Unabomber ways. The man liked to spend time alone … and with my ghostly grandmother. They wouldn’t have called unless they were absolutely certain something was amiss.
I tossed off the covers and rolled toward the bathroom. “Let’s go,” I barked.