The Werewolf Meets His Match (Nocturne Falls Book 2) (15 page)

“My wife needs more than a plain band. I want other men to
know
you’re married. And don’t worry about the money. Or the added cost of your son. I’m good when it comes to finances. Not Ellingham good, but well off. Besides being sheriff, which pays well in this town, I have my stipend.” All pack members did, but as an immediate member of the alpha’s family, his was about double that amount.

Her frown had yet to leave her face. “But I’m not bringing anything to this marriage but debts. I still have some student loans.”

He didn’t understand. “Your parents didn’t pay for your college?”

“My father didn’t want me to go to college, so no, he didn’t pay. And cutting hair was barely enough to live on after making the minimum payments.”

Something wasn’t adding up. Hank hoped Ivy wasn’t one of those women who shopped themselves into debt. An image of her Harley flashed in his head. “What about your stipend? I’d think the whiskey business brings in enough to keep you in good stead. Unless you’re not spending it wisely.”

Her frown turned angry, and he could tell he’d hit a nerve. “What little money I have, I’m very careful with. And
if
I got a stipend, maybe things would be different, but I don’t. The Kincaid stipend only goes to males.”

“Are you serious?” Clemens Kincaid was a low-life piece of garbage. How could he not provide for his daughter? Or the rest of his female pack members? Sharing the stipend was standard operating procedure. All packs did it. It created loyalty and stability.

She nodded. “My brothers are in high cotton. Me? Not so much.”

That still didn’t explain the Softail. “How did you afford that motorcycle?”

She snorted. “I inherited that from my grandfather. And if he hadn’t had an iron-clad will, I’m not sure I would have held on to it, either.”

“Your father is a horrible man.”

“You have no idea,” she muttered.

He kissed her, as much to soothe her as to soothe himself. Clemens Kincaid was enough to make anyone see red. Hank couldn’t imagine how Ivy had survived having him as a father. It only fueled his desire to spoil her. “Then you should give me an idea. When you feel ready. Because there’s no reason you need to bear all that yourself. But this moment is not about him. You’re about to be a Merrow. Time to live like it. Pick out a ring.”

“You’re sure?”

“Pick out a ring or I’ll buy the gaudiest one in the case.”

She grinned. “Okay. No pressure.”

He laughed and waved Willa back over.

Ivy immediately pointed to the smallest diamond in the case.

“Don’t even play that game,” he said. “Try the one next to it.”

“But that’s twice the size.”

“And still not big enough.” He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Think like a Merrow.”

She gave him a look he interpreted as a plea for patience.

He took the hint. “I need to step outside and make a call. Be right back.”

She nodded, her interest fully seated in the tray of rings Willa had just taken out. He left the shop, slipping his phone out as he went.

He called Birdie. “Any messages?”

“I heard you had a nice lunch.”

Honestly, how did the woman find this stuff out? She was probably just fishing. He wasn’t going to bite. “Not
about
me.
For
me.”

“Deputy Cruz got himself a date for the Zombie Prom.”

Hank pinched the bridge of his nose. “These are not the kind of messages I’m referring to.”

Birdie clucked her tongue. “There’s nothing else going on. No crime, no vagrancy, not even a speeder. What do you want me to say?”

“
That there are no messages
.” He took a breath and tried to think patient thoughts. “I have to go.”

“How’s the ring shopping coming?”

Hank pulled the phone away to stare at it. Maybe Birdie was part witch. “Goodbye.” He hung up and went back inside.

Three rings sat in a velvet tray between Ivy and Willa.

“Have you narrowed it down already?”

Ivy nodded.

Willa smiled. “The woman knows what she likes.”

“I can appreciate that.” He’d thought this might take hours. More proof Ivy was the right woman for him.

Ivy looked up, eyes soft and sparkly. “Which one do you like?”

The rings all looked alike to him. “Try them on.”

She obliged, and he watched her face and the light in her eyes. The middle ring made them sparkle the most. He glanced at the tags. It was the most expensive, but still well within his budget.

He kept his expression neutral. “Which one do
you
like the best?”

“They’re all pretty.” But her gaze stayed fixed on the second one.

“That doesn’t help me. I’m a guy. They might as well be the same ring to me.”

With a slight hesitation, she touched the first and least expensive. “This one is very nice.”

He looked at Willa. “The ring will have to be sized, won’t it?”

She nodded. “I can do that for you today.”

“All right. Hang on to those three and I’ll call you when I get back to the station, let you know which one we’re getting.”

Ivy stared at him, her sweet mouth bent in a half-grin. “You dirty dog.”

He smiled. “There has to be some surprise.” He grabbed her hand. “Thank you, Willa. I’ll be in touch.”

Ivy waved goodbye as he led her out of the shop. “She’s nice. Fae, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“This town is pretty cool. People are nice, for the most part, and—”

A warning bell went off in his head. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, letting tourists flow around him. “Was someone here unkind to you?”

“No. Yesterday at the Shop & Save some woman wanted to know what I was doing getting out of your car.” She shrugged. “Small-town stuff. No biggie.”

He started walking again. She fell into step beside him. Town gossips weren’t an actual threat. “Anyone sets off your sixth sense, you let me know.”

“I will.”

“Where’s your bike?”

“In the free lot by the library.”

“I’ll walk you over there. Park at the station from now on.”

She stared at him. “You’re scaring me. Stop that.”

They crossed the street and walked toward her bike. Traffic stopped for him instantly. The power of the uniform. “I want you to be safe. That’s all.”

She linked her arm around his. “I know. It’s nice. I’ll be fine, though. It’s not like I can’t protect myself. I’ve got all the same shifter strengths you do.”

He nodded as they came to a stop beside her motorcycle. “That alpha possessiveness is built into me. I can’t help it.”

She combed her hair back with her fingers and started braiding it. “Hey, I meant to ask. What are all those posters for the Zombie Prom?”

“It’s the town’s June event. There’s one big thing that happens every month. It’s why there are so many people around right now.”

“Do you go?”

“Not always, but this year, yes. We rotate the security shift. I picked the short straw this time.”

“Not your thing, huh?” She tied off the braid and unlocked her helmet.

“I did prom in high school. That was enough. And putting on zombie make-up? Not for me.”

She nodded, helmet on her hip. “I can’t imagine it would be.”

He caught the wistfulness in her eyes and realized how dense he was. Again. “You…want to go with me this year? I’ll be on duty, but there’s no rule that says I can’t bring a date.”

Her smile was answer enough. “I would love that. It’s this weekend, right?”

He nodded. Seeing her all dolled up would go a long way toward making the night bearable. “The night after the full moon. You have a dress?”

“No, but I’ll figure something out.” She pulled her helmet on. “And just for the record, I don’t think your possessiveness has anything to do with you being next in line for alpha. I’ve never known a shifter who wasn’t.”

“Too much?”

She smiled and kissed him. “Nope. But I’ll let you know.”

He kissed her back. Not as deeply as he would have liked to, but they were practically in the middle of town. “We’ll leave for Titus’s around six thirty.”

She climbed on the motorcycle. “Then you need to be home by five thirty.”

“It doesn’t take me that long to get ready.”

She revved the engine and her eyes went gold with desire. “It’s not about you getting ready.”

A bolt of need shot through him, and his mouth opened, but he was too dumb-struck with happiness to answer. Instead, he just nodded as she rode off, grinning and wondering how he’d gotten so damn lucky.

The look on Hank’s face had been everything. She’d practically giggled all the way home, but that giggling had pretty quickly turned into fantasizing about all the things she was going to do to him. That man was
amazing
. And then there was the surprise of the ring. She’d never thought a ring would even be a part of the equation, but the fact that he was insisting on it really made it feel like he was taking this marriage seriously.

If she wasn’t nuts about him already…but it had gone far beyond being nuts about him.

Her only option now was to figure out how to survive the inevitable broken heart.

She pulled into the driveway of his house—their house? No, she couldn’t quite make that leap yet. It was still his house and would be for a while. Maybe always, once he found out about Charlie’s troubles.

But for now, she was going to pretend that everything was fine and that the man she was
most definitely
falling in love with was going to magically accept her child, shortcomings and all.

She got off her bike and walked up to the keypad on the side of the garage to punch in the code he’d given her when something on the front porch caught her eye. Hank had gotten some packages. Well, not
exactly
packages.

She climbed the steps to investigate. One was a vase holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, all wrapped up in a cloud of tissue paper. A business card-size envelope was taped to the front. And her name was written on it.

She pulled the note off and opened it.

You’re prettier than the GTO. –Hank.

She laughed, not only because he’d sent her more flowers but the message was so…him. That man.

The second package was a basket covered in a gingham dish towel. She lifted the towel. Inside was a plate of cling-wrap-covered cookies. A note dangled from red ribbon tied to the basket’s handle. Had Hank sent her cookies, too? Maybe it was a thing the florist did.

Hank had just mentioned that new shop. Delaney’s Delectables. Maybe these had come from there? She took a long look at the cookies. They seemed pretty normal. Could they have actually been made by a vampire baker? Talk about a first.

She glanced at the note. The writing was a strange combination of flowery and shaky, like an old woman’s penmanship, which could totally belong to a vampire. Weren’t they all like a thousand years old? Ivy just barely made out what it said.

Welcome to the neighborhood, Ivy.

Hmm. If they weren’t from the florist, they might be from one of Hank’s neighbors. Wasn’t that nice? She glanced around at the other houses. To think someone had made cookies for her. She’d never in her life lived in a place where the neighbors did things like that. Maybe it was because Hank was the sheriff? Whatever the reason, it was sweet. She couldn’t wait to show Hank when he got home.

She fixed the dish towel over the cookies, then snagged the basket by the handle and grabbed the vase of flowers in her other hand. She went into the house through the garage, putting the cookies and the flowers on the kitchen counter, then went back to wheel her bike inside and shut the garage door.

She went to work making an orange pound cake. The recipe was her mother’s, except for the orange bit, which Ivy had added on her own. The simple ingredients—butter, flour, sugar, eggs and the orange zest—were about all Ivy had on hand unless she made another trip to the Shop & Save.

When the batter was mixed and poured into a Bundt pan, something Bridget had no doubt added to Hank’s kitchen, Ivy slid the cake into the oven, then cleaned up. Job done, she went to her bedroom to study her slim clothing options and figure out what she had to wear that was presentable for a family dinner.