Chapter 10
Finn
I’m waiting for her outside the market when her shift ends.
I dropped her off this morning and then flew home, determined to put in some time in my workshop.
But while I’d usually let myself get lost in the work and emerge whenever I get around to it, today, I set an alarm in my phone so I’d be out on time.
I’m growing more understanding of why my father holds so strictly to his four p.m. quitting time.
It’s not just me anymore, after all. I can’t act like it is.
She startles when she walks out of the store and sees me. “You’re here.”
“Of course. How else were you going to get home?” It’d be a hell of a walk.
She frowns, clearly not having thought of that yet. “Good point. Did I interrupt anything?”
She’s too preoccupied with this idea that she shouldn’t bother me at all, and I hate it even more every time I hear it. Maybe it’s not my place—as she keeps reminding me, our relationship isn’t real—but I want to take some of that burden off her shoulders.
“I thought we could maybe get dinner here?” I suggest, stepping forward and looping her hand through my arm. It’ll serve a double purpose; neither of us will have to cook, and we can sell our story to the town a little more. I need to tell every single one of them that Cassidy is here to stay.
“I like the idea,” she agrees, squeezing my arm as we take off walking. We don’t need to discuss where to go; there aren’t a lot of options in a town the size of Hearthstone.
Donnel is a wolf shifter who’s run the pub in town since before I was born. Cassidy worked here for a while, if I remember correctly. It’s the only place to get a bite to eat except for the ice cream parlor.
It’s relatively informal here, so we seat ourselves at a high-top in the corner.
I can feel eyes on us from the minute we walk in, sending cold shivers down my spine, and I have to fight the urge to hide both of us behind my wings.
I don’t like them staring, and I don’t like being the center of attention.
But half the point of us even being here is so they do see us, so I suck it up.
“What’s Finn Delaney’s go-to Donnel’s order, anyway?” she asks, a teasing smile on her face.
I don’t come here that often, and certainly not often enough to have a regular order. But I glance at the menu written on a chalkboard over the bar that hasn’t changed in my lifetime. “Steak sandwich,” I decide.
She nods, still looking at me intently. “What?” I ask, self-conscious now.
“Can you lean forward, you have…” I lean forward before she finishes her sentence, then immediately regret it when she touches my left horn.
Oh, fuck. Her touch is light as a feather, more brushing than gripping, but even so, it’s enough to set every nerve in my entire body on fire.
It gets quiet in the pub, all the people who’ve been not-so-sneakily watching us now hushing as they take in the show. And poor Cassidy is the only one who doesn’t know what she’s doing.
The skin on my horns and my wings is very, very delicate, which makes it sensitive. Which means I’m lit up like a firework from the barest touch, and everyone here but her knows it.
Well, if we were trying to sell our marriage to people, mission-fucking-accomplished, I suppose. Only a newly married and profusely in love couple would do this in a public restaurant.
“You had a little something…” she says, leaning back, completely unaware of what she’s done to me.
I fight for control, an impossible task when I can still feel her little fingers on me and my hard-on in my jeans.
“Sorry. I must’ve not cleaned up as well as I thought after work.
” I’m torn between hoping she notices something else to get off of me and needing to put distance between us before I lose control completely.
“That’s fine. How’s your sculpture going, anyway?” she asks, sitting back in her chair, and I take the opportunity to do the same, seizing on the subject change like the life raft it is.
“What can I get you two?”
Donnel’s nephew, Drake, is apparently taking orders tonight. Cassidy orders us both steak sandwiches and he hustles onto the next table.
“Tell me more about the sculpture,” she says, leaning forward once more.
I tell her all about the fox I’ve been carving for weeks, how the expression has been particularly difficult, but how I think I’ve finally got it now. I monitor the conversation, trying to ensure I don’t bore her, but either she’s genuinely interested or she’s good at faking it.
“Do you like art?” I ask her.
“I did the mural in the living room. And the bedroom next to G’s, I turned it into a little craft studio at some point. Figured I’d contain my mess to one room in the house.”
“Can I see it sometime?” What kind of art makes Cassidy happy? That’s an answer I want to know far more than I expected.
She shifts in her seat, not looking directly at me. “It’s not very good. I’m not very good. It’s just for fun.”
Oh, I don’t like that. “Cassidy.” I try to sound firm but not harsh, and I’m not sure I succeed. She twitches.
“What?”
“I’m sure it’s wonderful. I’m glad it makes you happy.”
“It’s just a hobby,” she deflects.
“Hobbies are great.” She doesn’t look receptive to more, but I make a mental note to bother her about it again later. I want to see her art, and I want her not to be ashamed about it.
I want Cassidy to do things that bring her joy. I have a feeling she’s deprioritized her own pleasure so much that she forgets it exists some days.
Drake deposits two sandwiches on our table without a word. I raise an eyebrow. Donnel’s isn’t particularly known for fantastic service, but this kid is rude.
Cassidy doesn’t complain, though, biting into her sandwich. It’s so hot that steam literally comes out of it, but she eats like she doesn’t even notice. Gargoyles are relatively impervious to temperatures, but my human wife shouldn’t be. I watch her, fascinated, and forget my own food.
She gets halfway through her sandwich when she looks up. “Did we not even get water?” she asks, looking around the table like she expects it to appear.
No, we didn’t. I glance around the pub and see Drake leaning against the bar counter, clearly not busy at the moment. “Hey! Drake! My wife is looking for a drink,” I say, raising my voice.
Cassidy flushes. “Finn, you can’t—”
“I can,” I assure her, because I definitely can and will ensure that she gets a drink. And Drake is rolling his eyes and meandering his way over to our table, anyway.
“What do you want?” he asks Cassidy.
“Water is fine. Finn?”
“Water, too.” I spare a moment to look at the rest of the room, who definitely heard what I said. They’re all whispering behind their hands again.
Daringly, I take Cassidy’s hand across the table as soon as Drake walks away. It’s so small in mine. Small and soft.
She looks down at our hands and quirks a smile. “You should’ve heard them all day,” she says, knowing exactly why I’m doing this. “I think we elected our mayor based solely on his ability to spread gossip.”
Sounds about right. “Did anyone bother you?” I ask, hating that she bore the brunt of their scrutiny while I stayed at home.
“Bother isn’t the right word. People are nosy as hell, though.” She lowers her voice. “I stuck to our story for the most part.”
“For the most part?” I’m dying to know what that means.
“If anyone asks, you watch rom-coms with me.” She blushes again. She does that a lot, her cheeks turning a pretty pink underneath her freckles. “Got asked what kind of dates we even had if we weren’t public.”
“I’ll watch rom-coms with you,” I promise.
She raises an eyebrow. “You like rom-coms, Finn?”
I’ve never watched one in my life. Now seems like the perfect time to start. I’m not sure if I’ll like them at all, but that’s irrelevant right now. “Pick one out for when we get home,” I suggest.
She opens her mouth to respond when a voice cuts us off. “Oh, good, I heard you might be here.”
My whole body tenses, my wings flaring. Probably not enough anyone noticed, but it’s a sign of my body preparing for danger.
“Hugh,” I say without looking away from Cassidy. She turns to glare at Hugh, and I have to admit that the man must have balls of steel if he doesn’t cower away from that. That, or he’s an idiot. I’m more inclined to believe the second option.
“Delaney. Excuse me, this is between me and Cassidy.”
“Anything that involves my wife involves me too,” I tell him shortly, squeezing Cassidy’s hand softly.
Something interesting happens on his face when I say that, a complicated, ugly little sneer. “Your wife. That happened fast, hm? Conveniently fast.” He studies us like bugs under a microscope, like he can pick us and our story apart. But Cassidy’s hand is steady in mine. We’re not going anywhere.
“We didn’t hide that we moved up our timetable because of you,” I say.
We technically only told Davies that, but I’m positive that he shared everything we said with Hugh and probably half the town, too.
I don’t know why Davies is so invested in Hugh, but it’s crystal clear that he’s on his side in this little tiff, and I’d be shocked if he didn’t pass on any information he thinks Hugh could use to his advantage.
“But it didn’t mean we weren’t going to end up here on our own eventually. ”
“Oh, come on. A human? You’re going to risk your kid not even being a gargoyle, Delaney?”
Cassidy full-on winces at that, and I want to strangle him. “I didn’t think you were that worried about my children,” I retort. “But rest assured, I’ll love any kid, no matter what.”
Does Cassidy want more kids? I know it won’t be with me, but now I’m curious. She’s still young. She could go on, get married, have a kid or two of her own. Is that something she wants?
Hugh turns away from me to look solely at Cassidy. “That property belongs to people like us,” he says. “People who need it. People who can appreciate it.”
Her eyes narrow. Her momentary flinch from a moment ago is completely gone, and the Cassidy who is ready to fistfight this sorcerer is back. “Tearing it down doesn’t sound much like appreciating it.”
“Having a human take up valuable land in our town is an affront to what we stand for,” he argues. “This town was founded for us.”
I snort. “C’mon, Saunders. You left for twenty years. There is no us.”
People in the pub are all listening to this. Mitchell Vespa actually floats through a table to come closer and get a better view. I grit my teeth, hating being made a spectacle, but maybe all these people watching will get Hugh to behave.
“At least I’m not making excuses for a human to keep a big old plot of land that could be filled with so many of us,” he shoots back.
I scoff. “Tourists. We don’t need tourists.”
“We do if we want to have a future. Haven’s Gate down in South Carolina saw a massive increase in annual revenue, and that’s just in the first year of my hotel there, and—”
“You’ve done this in multiple places?” Cassidy interrupts.
Hugh blinks at her. “I have seven hotels in seven different supernatural towns,” he informs her, puffing his chest out like he can’t help himself. “Each one does great things for the local economy.”
“And your wallet, too, I guess.”
“Naturally.”
“You kick people out of their houses for those, too?” Cassidy asks.
“No, because people sell when they’re offered a buyout. It’s like they realize what that kind of money can do for their lives,” he says pointedly.
Cassidy shrugs. “It’s like you don’t realize what that house will do for the rest of my life.”
Hugh bristles. “That land should be used.”
“I think Finn told you we’re planning to fill the house with our own family,” she says cooly. “It’ll be used, Hugh, don’t worry.”
“Human kids,” Hugh scoffs.
“I’m technically half, right? So our chances of having supernatural kids is pretty high. And you don’t get a say who lives in my father’s house. I’m sure his grandkids being there will be a nice thought for us someday.”
She’s talking about having kids with me with a level of sincerity that I almost believe in. I fight to keep a neutral expression so Hugh doesn’t see the shock on my face.
Hugh stares at Cassidy for a minute. “I don’t have anything against you,” he says to her. “And I think I’m being more than fair, offering above fair market value. But land is at a premium in this town. You’re obstructing supernatural creatures from living here.”
“Give me a break,” I scoff. “You don’t want anyone to live there; you want to make a profit. Well, that’s my wife’s house, and you won’t be touching it.”
He ignores me entirely. “You’re human,” Hugh continues. “Go be among humans.”
She squeezes my hand. “Can’t now, can I?” she asks rhetorically. “Finn wouldn’t exactly do great out there.”
Hugh grits his teeth at the reminder of my existence. I don’t know what he has against me, exactly. We were never friends, but we weren’t enemies. But regardless, I will plant myself between him and Cassidy and refuse to be moved. He won’t get to her when I’m around.
“I’ve asked Mayor Davies to add the house to the town meeting agenda next week,” he says. “Let’s vote on who should own the house.”
“My house, you mean?” Cassidy asks pointedly.
“The house you don’t have any legal right to, considering you’re human,” he retorts. “I’ve asked him to bring it to a vote before the town. If you like this town so much, let them decide your fate. The town by-laws are on my side.”
Cassidy’s tough facade crumbles a bit. Hopefully not enough for Hugh or anyone else to notice, but I’ve been staring at her, taking in every detail. I can see how that scares her. I squeeze her hand again. I’m here, I want to shout. You don’t have to do this alone.
“Thanks for the information,” I grunt in Hugh’s direction, pushing to my feet and getting a sick satisfaction when he falls back a few steps.
“We’ll see you at the town meeting. I don’t want to see you until then.
” He doesn’t look like he’s going to move, and I can feel the stares of everyone in the pub.
I focus solely on Cassidy. “You ready to go, wife?” I ask, needing to rub it in that she is, in fact, my wife now.
When she nods, I fish out my wallet and leave a few bills on the table, then help her down from the high stool and wrap an arm around her back as we walk outside.