She’d told him on their voyage that she liked he didn’t see her as weak. That he would argue with her one minute, not giving in just because she was bossy, and the next kiss her. Because he liked her authoritative nature. It didn’t mean he’d fold to her demands, but he enjoyed her strength.
He especially enjoyed it later that night in the guest bed at his mom’s house. He lay on his back with Nimway astride him, her fingers digging into his chest, her hips rolling and grinding as she pushed against him, taking him deep and biting her lip to avoid making the sounds that said he was rubbing her sweet spot. He bit his own fucking tongue it felt so good.
He doubted he’d ever tire of seeing her gaze shining as she stared down at him. A woman who’d chosen him over all others. A partner to stand by his side. A confidante with whom he had no secrets.
A lover for life.
He spooned around her when they eventually fell asleep. They awoke to an audience. His little sister Daphne to be exact.
“What’s up, Daffy?” Stefan asked, his arm curled possessively around his wife.
“Mom says it’s time to get up. Lots to do.”
“Yeah, like job hunting,” he groaned. He’d been absent one too many days, not to mention it might be best to cut ties with his old job just in case.
“Actually, Mom’s cooking, and says she needs you to taste test.”
“Taste test what?”
“Wedding cake. And you both need to be there,” Daphne declared with a wag of a finger.
“Er, what?” Nimway was the one to balk.
“Oh, and you need to pick a color scheme.” Daphne grinned. “Mom says you’re not gypping her out of her dream wedding.”
“But we’re already married,” Nimway uttered in a panic.
“Not until she gets to cry when you repeat your vows, according to her.”
Nimway groaned, and Stefan chuckled as he nuzzled her hair and whispered, “Let her plan a second wedding with the trimmings. It will keep her from bugging us about kids.”
Wrong.
Over the course of that day, where they ate different flavors of cake and Nimway was kidnapped to try on a bunch of dresses, while he was fitted for a tux, they were told they should aim for three kids, two boys and a girl. Nimway was also given a cookbook for beginners. For a second, Stefan worried she’d flee but instead she’d grinned. “Better bump your life insurance and invest in some Pepto.”
That night, he said to her, “Fuck the wedding. If it’s stressing you out, we can say no.”
“Is this your way of getting out of our marriage? Hunh? You want to get rid of me?” Nimway growled as she crawled atop him and grabbed his shirt in two fists.
“Why the fuck would I want to do that?”
“I saw Lacey winking at you.”
“Uh. I don’t know who that is, and I don’t care because I only have eyes for you.”
And he’d marry her a hundred times if that meant they could have a life together.
Epilogue
The day of the wedding dawned beautiful.
They’d decided to have it in the park surrounded by the houses.
This time, Nimway’s something-old was Nanette Hubbard’s wedding dress, which wouldn’t fit for long, given what the doctor had told her.
Her brother gave her away, his eyes moist.
Even her husband looked a little misty and sounded rusty as he recited his vows.
Nimway didn’t cry, but her allergies got bad a few times during the ceremony. She blamed all the cats, including her husband.
She did disappear at one point with Stefan, and people assumed the dirtiest thing. And they weren’t completely wrong, but the nookie came after the report the pack hub had compiled about the burned-down installation.
It never existed. Meaning it never had an owner. And the people who fled it that night? Vanished.
It was as if the atrocities never happened, but the danger remained. Unlike Gwayne, Nimway wasn’t so sure they should have aborted their plan to move out.
“Whoever was in charge knows the Hubbards exist,” she’d reminded him.
“And they’re afraid to act openly. I’d rather face the enemy in a place of my choosing, a place I know. Maybe instead of hiding, we should fight for our right to stay.”
Fight for her home? Her family? Her husband?
The life within…
Stefan cradled her and palmed her stomach. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re the best ball and chain a guy could ask for?”
“The last one to call me a heavy metal weight got cement shoes and went for a swim.”
“Hmm, maybe I should ask for your forgiveness then.”
“Or you could show me,” she teased.
He showed her heaven three times. And when she was puking the next day, and she threatened to carve his balls, he held her hair.
Now that was love.
Raymond had been keeping odd hours for most of his life. His mind worked in spurts, and when on a streak, especially one fueled by worry, he functioned on very little down time.
It meant that despite it being three a.m., he was awake when the text, addressed to him, dropped into a mailbox he kept on the dark web.
Raymond read it and arched a brow.
Stop poking. Or else. Signed, Pink Llama.
He replied. Or else what? Because any poking that caused a warning deserved even more attention in his books.
The reply came in the form of a full system shutdown, the kind that wiped his machines so that the only thing that appeared on his screen was a pink llama wearing sunglasses and a grin.
Game on.
Will Raymond find the hacker warning him to back off? And when he does, will the answers she’s concealing lead to a happily-ever-after?
For more information or books (including many HOT shifters) see EveLanglais.com