Chapter 15
“Imissed this,” Demarien said, watching the ocean waves slam against the black rock cliffs from the safety of the old lighthouse.
The Oregon coast in December was windswept, cold, dramatic, and deeply alive.
Storms moved fast off the Pacific, dragging curtains of rain across the beaches and rattling the windows.
Today, they gathered at Felix’s newly renovated home.
The lighthouse stood on a black-rock headland above the coast, where the waves came in hard and gray even on clear days.
Wind carried the smell of salt, cedar, and cold kelp.
From a distance, the tower still looked as if it belonged to another century, but up close, signs of life had settled into it.
The old keeper’s house had been joined seamlessly to the tower by a glass walkway built low against the bluff so storms could pass over it.
Original beams remained exposed overhead, darkened by decades of sea air, and the walls still carried tiny imperfections from hand-laid plaster.
Some of the iron fixtures bore flecks of rust preserved beneath clear sealant like relics.
Inside, the home balanced ruggedness with surprising softness.
Driftwood-colored floors ran through open rooms filled with deep wool rugs, overstuffed chairs, and shelves crowded with books.
A massive stone fireplace anchored the living room, its chimney built into the original lighthouse foundation.
As kids, on stormy nights, Demarien and his friends would stay there with a large pillow fort, games, and snacks while rain slammed sideways against the glass and waves exploded below the cliffs.
Without regular maintenance over the years, the house had somehow managed to stand strong, though the roof had needed fixing. Most of their time over the past two weeks was spent working on the most striking and dilapidated part of the house – the tower.
The tower itself was now the heart of the home.
The lower levels held small circular rooms converted into intimate spaces.
A reading nook with curved built-in shelves, a compact office lined with maps, and a guest room where the walls bowed inward slightly with the shape of the structure.
A spiral staircase climbed through the center, worn smooth by generations of keepers before becoming polished by restoration.
At the top, beneath the lantern room, the renovation took on an almost reverent quality.
The original Fresnel lens remained in place, no longer guiding ships but preserved like a sculpture.
Sunlight fractured through its glass during the day, scattering pale rainbows across the walls.
The room below it had been turned into Felix’s workshop, and from there the entire coastline stretched endlessly north and south.
Dark sea stacks rose from surf, pine forests clung to cliffs, and distant beaches faded into fog.
The air was dry, heavy, alive with the smell of scorched metal, ash, and something faintly mineral, like hot stone after rain. Every surface seemed dusted with a fine shimmer of glass powder that caught the orange furnace light.
At the center of the room, the glory hole burned white-hot, its open mouth radiating heat strong enough to sting from several feet away.
Long steel blowpipes rested on racks nearby, blackened from years of use, alongside paddles soaked in water, giant tweezers, shears, blocks carved from fruitwood, and thick leather gloves stiff with scorch marks.
The concrete floor was scarred with circular tracks where Felix had rolled pipes back and forth while shaping molten glass.
Beneath the windows, shelves lined the walls, cluttered with jars of powdered pigments in impossibly beautiful colors like cobalt blue, amber, emerald, and ruby red.
Near the staircase, Felix had enclosed a large space for the guinea pigs to play while he worked.
The wire was a work of art itself, built from leftover bits and pieces, smoothed down for safety.
In the living room, they sat together as the rain poured, a buffet of snacks spread across the coffee table. Demarien, Puck, and Milo were showing baby bumps, obviously. Puck’s was much bigger than either Demarien's or Milo’s, which he complained about daily.
Milo put his bowl of Cheetos down and cleared his throat. “The family meeting begins now. Felix, are you taking notes?”
The smaller man rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Get going already.”
“Let it be noted that we have new members.” Milo smiled widely at Boone and Haley. “Welcome to our family.” He tossed a Cheeto at Patrick. “You too, lover boy.”
Patrick grinned and ate the snack. “You know you love me, Milo.”
“Okay.” Milo clapped his hands. “First, are we ready to open the restaurant for Sunday brunch?”
“Brunch,” Puck said, shuddering. “I hate brunch. What even is it?”
“We are ready.” Demarien squeezed Boone’s hand in excitement.
“The indoor seating in the old dining room and sitting room is ready. The outdoor covered seating is ready too, but I don’t see us using it this time of the year.
” He leaned into Boone. “The kitchen is ready, and Haley is set to work that day.”
The young woman had started working for them shortly after Thanksgiving. With her help, the inn was beginning to resemble an inn, and the restaurant was ready to go. Sunday brunches would be a test run until the inn opened fully in April.
“Sammie and Wilma-Jean have both called and tried to make a reservation for opening day,” Demarien said, laughing. “I told them they didn’t have to and that there would always be seats for them.”
Milo smiled softly. “Good. The town has been supportive for the most part, just a little freaked out with the whole dead body and theft thing. I think brunch will be successful. The website is up as well.” He paused dramatically.
“We have our first booking. Yes, it’s Joe, but still.
The site just went up yesterday. The advertisements I’ve arranged begin next week. Fingers crossed we fill up.”
His smile faded. “Now for the bad news.”
Demarien sat up straight. “What bad news? The place is almost ready for inspection, and we will start on Puck’s cabin next week. Good news only.”
“I finally got access to Aunt Dahlia’s accounts. Well, the largest one. I was already on several smaller ones, but this one was where all her investments went.”
“How is that bad news?” Puck asked. “Aunt Dahlia was loaded. I think.”
“She should have had over a million dollars in the account.” Milo shifted uncomfortably. “I meant it to be padding to help us get through our first year and to make up for all the renovations we needed to do. All of us have spent most of our savings getting this place up and running.”
“We knew what we were getting into,” Felix said quietly. “Well, mostly.”
“The account is empty,” Milo said bluntly. “Someone completely emptied it the day she died.”
“Who would do that?” Demarien asked, anger bubbling.
“It would be safer to say who wouldn’t do that in my family.
” Milo sighed. “Activity in her other accounts shows she sent money to the estate manager to maintain the house and grounds. I think Bernard likely had something to do with it. He clearly embezzled money from Aunt Dahlia.” He looked worn out.
“We all sunk our savings into this. If it doesn’t work, we’re officially screwed. ”
“At least we’ll all still have homes,” Felix pointed out with a pained smile.
“But it’s going to work,” Haley said, voice soft. “I know it will.”
“Haley’s right.” Puck nodded. “Our inn is going to be the best on the western coast, and our kids are going to grow up happy and safe together.”
“Yes.” Milo nodded. “You’re right. It has to work.”
“How could it not?” Demarien stated with more certainty than he felt. “We’re doing this together. With all of us invested, it will definitely work.”
“I have some savings –” Boone began.
“No,” Demarien interrupted him. “We can do this.”
“I also have –” Patrick started.
“What did I just say?” Demarien interrupted him, too. “We. Can. Do. This.”
“Yes, we can,” Milo said smugly. “We have each other.”
Haley laughed, tears filling her eyes. “You all are so… I can’t even word it.”
“Amazing?” Puck asked. “Magnificent? Extraordinary?”
“Stubborn,” she said, shaking her head. “Extraordinarily stubborn.”
“I like the word determined better,” Puck retorted.
“Don’t we all?” Milo smirked.
Felix cleared his throat. “Any more bad news?”
“Not at this time,” Milo answered.
“Then, I’d like to share something.” His smile was small and shy, and his eyes twinkled with excitement. “I’m pregnant.”
The room was silent for a moment, then came the cheers, jumping, and hugs. “Yes,” Demarien, Puck, and Milo trapped Felix between them and hugged him tightly. “That is amazing. I’m so happy for you.”
“Knew it would work.” Patrick grinned. “It’s because Boone and I were there. We’re lucky charms.”
“Lucky charms for fertility?” Haley arched a brow. “I don’t know if you should be bragging too much.”
“I already know where your nursery will go.” Milo ran from the room.
“I have some leftover paint,” Demarien said happily.
“I will personally buy you paint,” Patrick said quickly. “Please don’t use the yellow. Demarien and Boone did. It’s scary.”
Felix giggled and hugged the alpha. “Thank you, Patrick, but I already bought the paint. It’s a light blue that doesn’t make me question my mental state.”
Patrick let out a long-held breath, closing his eyes, and hugged the small omega back. “I knew you were the smartest of all of us. I’ll paint for you.”
Demarien studied the two men for a moment and shared an amused look with Boone. Felix was warming up to Patrick, and Patrick clearly had a crush on Felix. If he could be patient, he might win the heart of Demarien’s best friend. Who knew what the future would hold?
Puck’s eyes watered. “That is so sweet. Damn it. Stop being cute, Felix.”
“How can he possibly do that?” Haley asked, poking Puck’s side. “It comes naturally to him. Do you need me to put on another Hallmark movie to distract you?”
“I know you’re mocking me,” Puck said, “but, yes, please.”
Demarien buried his face in Boone’s chest, laughing. “This is our family.”
“They’re your family when they act like this,” Boone said, grinning.
Demarien looked up, studying the face of the man he had loved for a very long time. Youthful energy had faded into a steady rhythm on his scarred face, making him all the more appealing. “Our family,” he whispered. “I love you, Boone.”
“I love you, too.” Boone pressed his forehead to Demarien’s. “No matter what comes, I’ll be right here by your side.”