by Michele Hauf
Reaching down, she gripped Lars’s penis and slicked her hand up and down, drawing up a hiss of pleasure from him. He propped himself up on his elbows. “I’m still worried we’re going to drop through this funky bench.”
“Trust me.” She leaned down, almost touching his erection with her lips. “You do trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes?”
Smirking, she licked the head of him, then took him in deeply and sucked him until he orgasmed.
* * *
Sitting naked on the edge of the framed wall behind the cabin, Mireio fluffed her bright hair, which did not seem to get any more than a few droplets on it, even though it was still misting.
Lars was soaked. And he hadn’t felt this good in days. His muscles were stretched and lax and his heartbeats still thundered from his orgasm. The moment felt enormously promising. The air was fresh and, even though there was no moon in sight, the night was bright.
“So you want to go in and snuggle under a blanket?” she asked coyly and added a flutter of her lashes.
The woman owned him with that sexy lash-fluttering smile. Every part of him belonged to her. Wanted to be inside and out with her. Forever and always.
“I have to say something to you first,” he said. “And I need to apologize because I said before I wouldn’t say it, but now I don’t care. Or rather, I do care. A lot. I have to put it out there. For you to know.”
“Sounds ominous.”
“It could be. Mireio...” He knelt on the ground before her and threaded his fingers with hers. Eyes meeting hers he felt her power in the blue irises, and her compassion and kindness. “I love you. And...uh...I was wondering if you’d marry me.”
Her mouth dropped open as she pressed a hand over it. “Really? You’re not on a sex high right now and will regret this later?”
“No, lover, I thought about this after I got home yesterday and talked to the bees. I don’t want to spend a day without you. And nothing would make me happier than if you’d become my wife. Oh, and...that includes accepting Peanut into your life, as well. I know it’s a lot to ask—”
“Yes!” She plunged into his arms. Not expecting that reaction, Lars toppled backward. They landed on the slick ground with kisses and squeals from Mireio. “Oh, yes, yes, yes! I’ve been thinking the same thing lately. I love you so much, Lars. And I want to be with you always. No matter what the future brings.”
“And Peanut?”
“I adore Peanut, you know that. I would be honored to be his stepmother.”
“I think he’d like having you as his mom. You have a way with him. Just like you have a way with me. You’ve bewitched us both. And I’m happy for it. Can we get married soon? Like this weekend? I know you women like a big fancy to-do, but—”
Her kiss stopped his protest. “I don’t need a to-do. I just need you. But can we have my girlfriends there? And you might have some friends you’ll want there?”
“Dean and Sunday for sure. And Peanut can be my best man.”
“Yay! Let’s do it this Saturday. That’ll give me a few days to find a dress. I do need to find the perfect dress, even if we go to the courthouse. I guess I need a little to-do after all.”
“Pretty yourself up. Do what you want to. Do I need to get a suit?”
“You can wear whatever you like. Oh, Lars, we’re getting married?”
“We are.”
Chapter 24
Mireio turned before the mirror in the tiny department store dressing room. Geneva sat on the bench observing with the practiced eye of a seasoned fashion designer. Mireio had found a sequined pale pink dress that stopped at her thighs and whose back plunged to above her waistline. In front it draped to reveal her cleavage. Add to that the five-inch silver Pradas and she was in love with her bad self right now.
“I’m not sure.” Geneva tilted her head against the wall where half a dozen rejected dresses hung.
“Oh, come on, Geneva, this one is perfect. And I am so not going to wear white. I’ll spill beer or drop a cupcake on it. I think Lars will love this one.”
“The dress is gorgeous. Your bright hair falling over the pink sequins makes it all rock. But I’d wear red shoes with it.”
“Good call. Back to the shoe department! But uh, what are you not sure about?”
Geneva stood and unzipped Mireio down the side. “You’re getting married in two days. You’ve dated the guy for what?”
“Long enough. I love him, Geneva. And he loves me.”
She crossed her arms, unconvinced. The perfect cat’s-eyes black liner she always wore gave her a majestic demeanor, even though she was shooting daggers at Mireio right now. “You sure this isn’t some freaky rushed thing so when he dies his kid will have a mom?”
She gaped at Geneva, but the woman merely shrugged and waited for a reply.
“No. It’s not like that.” Mireio slipped the dress from her shoulders and spied her lying eyes in the mirror. “Okay, so part of it might be me wanting to have as much time with him as I can. And I love Peanut. I would much rather he comes to me than become a ward of the state, or whatever happens if Lars should die.” She slipped down the dress to puddle around the high heels. “Which he’s not going to do.”
“I thought the doc gave him a couple months? Seems like his expiration date should be coming up pretty fast.”
“You’re rude, Geneva.”
“I’m playing devil’s advocate here.”
Yes, and she couldn’t blame her for that. But Mireio had thought about all this. She couldn’t change any of it. Well, not without one last attempt.
“What’s so wrong about me wanting to grab a little happiness? For wanting to make Lars happy?”
“Nothing. But you’re trying to convince yourself he’s not going to die. What do you know that the universe doesn’t?”
“Let me tell you.”
* * *
Two days later, Lars drove to Anoka with his bride at his side. They decided to hold the wedding ceremony down by the Rum River, behind The Decadent Dames so that afterward the party could move to the brewery. Lars had picked up Mireio, who had bounded out of her house in sweats and a T-shirt. Strange attire for her. Was this her idea of a casual affair? He was feeling itchy in the dress slacks and white shirt. He’d even rented a tie, which clipped on, thank the gods. He’d mess with that later.
He cast Mireio another glance. She twisted to make faces at Peanut, who sat strapped in on the back seat. Before he’d left this afternoon, Sunday had stopped by to give Peanut a present. It was a onesie that looked like a tuxedo with a little black tie at the neck. That was one smart-looking boy.
“What?” Mireio asked as he cast her yet another glance.
“Just never seen you so dressed down before.”
She patted the plastic dress bag. “I’m not going to let you see me in all my stunning beauty before the ceremony. I’m changing at the brewery.”
“You’re going to make my heart stop. But then, you do that every time I see you.” He winked at her and turned from the highway and into town. “You know, I realize that by marrying you I’m agreeing to wake every morning clinging desperately to my eight inches of the bed?”
She waggled her shoulders. “Got a problem with that?”
“Nope. I’d fall on the floor every morning just to be near you, and I have a few times already.”
“We could get a king-size bed. It would fit at my place. Where are we going to live? Your place is awesome with all the woods and quiet. And there’s the bees. You couldn’t leave them or move them. But...it’s one room.”
“I’m working on that.”
“Right. Doubling the size would be nice. And then Peanut could have his own room. Could we keep my place until that happens? I’m not attached to living in my neighborhood bu
t there is my bathroom.”
“The mermaid’s throne. I wouldn’t dream of asking you to give that up. We’ll figure something out. But I don’t ever want to spend a night without you.”
She clasped his hand. “It’ll never happen. Promise.”
“So uh, I need to tell you something.”
“That sounds ominous. You mean you still have more secrets? I can’t imagine what they could be.”
“Not a secret, just...facts you need to have before signing on the dotted line. About me. When I’m werewolf.”
She tapped a finger on her lower lip. “Like what?”
“When we werewolves take a mate, it’s for life.”
“I know that. I wouldn’t agree to marry you if I wasn’t in it for forever.”
“As short as that might be,” he said, then shook his head. “Sorry. I have to stop thinking like that. Take one day at a time.”
“That’s the way I intend to do it. So it’s me and you. For life.”
“Right, but we wolves? We like to also take our mates when in werewolf form.”
“Oh? Hmm, I think I knew about that. So you, all shifted to werewolf shape and, uh...little ole me?”
He nodded. If he thought she looked like a teenager standing next to him now, she’d be positively dwarfed by his werewolf. “I would never harm you, Mireio. You know that. But my werewolf will want in on the action.”
“I love all of you, Lars. And I would never deny you a thing. But can we take it slow? Work up to that experience?”
“Of course. Just the fact you’re open to it is all I need to hear. We can go really slow. Like months. Years.” He cleared his throat and swallowed. He didn’t have that long, but he wasn’t going to be a downer. Not today. Not on the best day of his life.
“Since we’re doing the confession thing here...” She twisted on the seat to face him. “There’s something I have to tell you. You need to know this before you marry me.”
“Is it worse than anything the two of us have already been through together?”
“I don’t know. Depends on your perspective.”
“Tell me, Mireio.”
“I’ve had a change of heart about the immortality spell.”
Lars’s jaws tensed. “You want to do it now?”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
“You’re not cool with that? I thought you were.”
He was. Until he’d found that spell. And really? He shrugged. “I might have had second thoughts about taking the life of an innocent vampire.”
“He’s not innocent, and you know it.”
“I only know what Raven Crosse has said about him.”
“Lars, I had Raven search for a very specific vampire. Which is the part I need to confess to you.”
“And this specific vampire? Why would he make you change your mind about performing the spell?”
“He was the vampire my mother went after when she had plans to invoke the immortality spell. Except before she could rip out his heart, he ripped out hers.”
Lars slammed the truck to a stop at a stop sign at a four-way in a quiet neighborhood. Both of them shot a look into the back seat. Peanut slept.
“Sweetie. Really?”
She nodded. “Mother left me alone that night. I knew she was going out to invoke the spell to live forever. So I followed her. I was eight. And...” She sniffed. “I instead watched the vampire murder my mother. Thank the goddess, my grandmother had followed us, as well, and was able to get me away before the vamp came for me. You’d think that would have scared me away from casting the spell. But all my life I’ve wanted immortality so that I’d be protected against a vampire attack.”
He nodded, understanding.
“But, as well, I’ve wanted revenge against the bastard who took my mother’s life. Those nightmares I told you I didn’t remember? I do. They are about my mom dying. I always see that bastard vampire standing there, holding her bloody heart.”
“I had no idea.” He clasped her hand and met her teary gaze. “Then I’m in. All the way. You want revenge?”
“I—I want immortality.”
“Truth, Mireio.”
She nodded decisively. “I want revenge too. To stop the nightmares.”
“Don’t say another word. It’s done. Just let me know when we need to go out on the hunt.”
“Thank you. For understanding.”
“I’d do anything for you, my love. Anything.”
He wished she’d told him sooner. He would have never said anything against going after the vamp. So long as she didn’t find the spell, he could be okay with helping her to track down a vampire and kill it. A vampire who had haunted her since she was eight. A bastard longtooth who had murdered her mother while Mireio had watched. Hell, what a thing to have experienced.
He’d take away her nightmares. If it was the last thing he did.
* * *
A goddess in pink spangles walked down the sidewalk toward him. The small gathering of friends stood on a shaded path alongside the river. The day was bright and warm and ducks swam in the river. Maple, elm and oak leaves performed a cancan in the breeze. To his right stood Dean Maverick. And Sunday held Peanut. Charlie. The best man.
Lars watched with awe and a reverence that pushed up tears at the corners of his eyes as Mireio approached, led by Geneva, who was dressed to the nines in a long black sheath dress and who held white roses.
Mireio’s bright hair spilled in luscious coils over her shoulders and down her back, and...did her shoes match her hair? What a fiery bundle of witch and mermaid-wannabe he’d gotten for himself.
Lars adjusted his stance and swallowed a lump in his throat. Yeah, so he was getting emotional. That this woman wanted to marry him did not cease to amaze him. Did they deserve one another? Maybe. Would she be better off finding a man who would live long enough to take care of her and have a family with her? Yes.
But he wasn’t going to question his luck. She had said yes because she loved him. And her love was what kept him going.
One of her hands slipped out from under the bouquet of red roses. Fingers beringed in silver and crystals, she took his hand and beamed a smile up at him. “You ready for this?”
“Let’s get hitched, sweetie.”
The ceremony took ten minutes. It was a long ten minutes. Lars didn’t hear much of it because his focus was on the part where he finally got to kiss his bride. And when prompted, he tilted his new wife back and bent over her for a long, binding kiss. Their friends cheered. Peanut giggled as a flutter of rose petals was tossed in the air. Then they all convened at the brewery where the DJ had already set up, and word had spread. Dozens of friends were already partying it up inside.
“You know we have to do the first dance.” Mireio said as she kissed him. “I’ll request something slow.”
“I’m good with that. Where’s Charlie?”
“I love that you’re keeping that name! He’s...” Both of them scanned the taproom. They spotted the baby in the midst of a half dozen women cooing over him and arguing who would get to give him his bottle. “I think he’ll be fine for a while. You want to check on him?”
“No, let him party it up. See? He’s already a ladies’ man. He’s got more chicks surrounding him than I’ve dated in my lifetime.”
“Ha! And now you’re mine so you are off the table. Come on, husband, let’s dance.”
* * *
Two hours later, Mireio sensed Lars was tired. He didn’t say anything, and he was very good at hiding it, but she saw him flicking his fingers behind his back as if trying to work the circulation back into them. And he took mincing steps. His joints must be bothering him. When he found a moment to himself, his smile dropped and his jaw tightened. Then a friend would congratula
te him and he’d force on a cheery demeanor.
It was time to call it a night. But first, she’d collect Charlie. Who was currently sleeping in his carrier on the bar with Sunday dutifully watching over him.
“Has he been sleeping awhile?” Mireio asked as she gathered his blanket and looked around for the diaper bag.
“Ten minutes. Oh, Mireio, don’t worry. Dean and I will take Peanut home tonight. You and Lars go on—have your wedding night.”
“Really?” Though she expected her new husband would probably crash as soon as he saw the bed. And he deserved it.
“Yes. I’ve got this,” Sunday said. “I stocked up on diapers and even bought a crib for the house, so we’re all good to go.”
“That’s quite a commitment. We won’t be needing a babysitter so much now. Well, I’d still like to go out with my new hubby once in a while.”
“Mireio.” Sunday placed a hand over her wrist. “You are aware that Dean and I will get legal custody of Peanut should Lars die?”
“What?”
Chapter 25
In the morning, Mireio brushed the hair from her face and rolled over to find her new husband clinging to the edge of the bed. One leg hung over the side of the bed, and so did one arm. But somehow he managed to snore through it all. The guy had stated that he’d known exactly what he was getting into by marrying her.
But had she known everything? What Sunday had said to her last night still bothered her. She’d wanted to ask her to explain, but Lars had come up to her and put his arms around her waist from behind, nuzzling his face into her hair. It had been a silent signal that he wanted to leave, so she’d left the baby with Sunday and driven him to her place. Lars had almost fallen asleep on the ten-minute ride, but he had made it upstairs and to the bed. By the time she’d showered and anticipated a little wedding-night snuggling? Snores.
Good thing he wasn’t a loud snorer. More of a gentle whispering type. And to be fair, there were times she’d woken herself with her own snoring. Not proud of it either. Maybe a little proud.
