From the heart of the crowd, Addie and Boaz rushed me, sweeping me up into a two-sided hug that held my feet off the ground while they squished, squeezed, and smooched me. The typical embarrassing stuff older siblings inflicted on their younger counterparts. Almost worse than the parents in fifties sitcoms.
Sure, I shoved them away and wiped off their kisses with my palms, but I loved every second of it.
Midas rescued me from my siblings, and, in one smooth transaction, Ford swooped in to claim them.
He talked their ears off while guiding them toward the food and entertainment, allowing me a breather. They were in town for the week, so there would be plenty of time to catch up with them tomorrow.
If the past few days had been a nightmare, then this—right here, right now—was a dream come true.
Arm around my shoulders, Midas tucked me against him. “Are you going to change into your Torres original?”
“If I go to our room,” I confessed, guilt twisting my stomach, “I’m going to fall asleep, not get dolled up.”
When Neely heard his masterpiece went unworn, he would murder me. Maybe I could soothe his ego by wearing it to the wedding reception instead. It wasn’t like the color mattered when my wedding was as nontraditional as it got. The matching tie for Midas would fit that idea nicely too.
“You need to make the rounds,” Bishop advised me. “Everyone wants to congratulate you.”
“The pack set up six buffet tables.” Midas tempted me. “One is all chocolate.”
“Those are my kind of rounds.” Cookies. Donuts. Cakes. “Let’s start there.”
“I thought you might say that.” He leaned down to claim my lips, and my toes curled in my boots. “Coming with us, Bishop?”
“Those tornado potatoes aren’t going to eat themselves.” He patted his stomach. “Why does food always taste better when you put it on a stick?”
“It’s truly one of life’s greatest, and most delicious, mysteries.”
Focused on the guy frying the spiral cut spuds on skewers, Bishop hunted his prey of choice.
“My daughter, the potentate.” Tisdale’s voice carried over the din. “Congratulations.” She kissed my forehead. “I couldn’t be prouder.”
The world blurred around the edges of my vision as her words sank into me and soothed the ragged edges of old wounds. They would flare up again, they always did, but Tisdale gave me precious relief.
“Thanks.” I ditched her son to tuck myself against her side. “It doesn’t feel real yet.”
“You’ve had a big day.” She rubbed her hand over my back. “You know what would make it better?”
“Eating my weight in chocolate and then taking a weeklong nap?”
“I was thinking more along these lines.” She guided me away from the crowd. “We bought you a little something to celebrate your promotion.”
“We?”
“The pack and I.” She grinned at Midas. “Not even my son has seen it yet.”
Brows dipping low, Midas searched his mother’s face. “I’m alarmed you felt the need to hide it from me.”
“I wanted to surprise you both.” She cupped my shoulders. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”
“Yes?”
“Close your eyes,” she instructed. “Both of you.”
The problem with closing my eyes was I wasn’t certain I could crank them open again.
“Yeehaw,” Ford shouted. “Ride ’em, cowgirl.”
“Your Texas is showing,” I yelled blindly. “Tuck it in before I trip over it.”
Tisdale must have moved behind me because her chin rested on my shoulder. “Open your eyes.”
A massive black beast of a pickup truck idled at the curb. The driver side door stood open, and the smell of its new leather interior wafted to even my weaker nose. I laughed at the squeak toy alien from Toy Story hanging from the rearview mirror.
Color me surprised that Ford had upgraded his beloved truck.
“Well?” Tisdale leaned around me, concern knitting her brow. “What do you think?”
“About?” I scanned the area in search of a box or bag or bow. “Where is it?”
Ford slid in front of me. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Uh, three?” I swatted them out of my face. “Why?”
“That’s your gift.” He walked over to the truck and gave it a pat on the fender. “Can you see it now?”
The horizon tilted to one side as it hit me Tisdale had bought me a frakking truck. A monster of a truck. It stole my voice, and more stupid tears threatened when I should have run dry hours ago. I drifted around it in a daze, pausing at the tailgate when I spotted the license plate.
BMEUP
“Beam me up,” I read, laughing. “This is mine?”
“You spend a fortune on Swyft,” Tisdale lectured. “This way, you can save money.”
The motherly sentiment swelled my heart to the bursting point.
“I’ll have to learn to drive in Atlanta traffic.” I continued around to the hood. “That’s scary.”
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Tisdale assured me. “I have no doubt.”
“And if you don’t,” Midas said, amusement thick in his voice, “you can get Remy to teach you.”
A shudder rippled the length of my spine as I pictured her yelling directions at me from the bench seat.
“I’ll figure it out.” I patted the truck, already growing attached to the USS Enterprise. Or maybe I would name her the Enterpickup. “Well, Midas?”
He crossed to me, but he didn’t spare the vehicle a second glance. “I’m surprised.”
“You don’t look surprised.” I sashayed over to him. “You look…”
…like he was ready to test out the bench seat, horizontally.
Clearing my throat, I tucked my hormones back into my pants where they belonged. “So, food?”
“Yes,” he growled, his gaze sparking crimson. “I could eat.”
All of a sudden, I could sympathize with Little Red once Big Bad had her in his sights.
“I’ll take my hug and go.” Tisdale shooed her son back. “You two enjoy the night.”
“This is a ridiculous gift.” I let her steal another embrace. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, I’m planting a new garden next week. Perhaps you could pick up my order and drive it out?”
“Sure.” I was happy to help. “I can do that.”
With a pat on my cheek, she disappeared into the crowd with Ford, leaving me alone with Midas.
“You see what she did there,” he pointed out. “She bought you a truck so she can send you on errands and force you to spend time with her.”
“Yeah.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Pretty awesome, right?”
A mother-daughter relationship was a new concept for me. Okay, a healthy mother-daughter relationship. Tisdale might as well walk around wearing a free hugs shirt. She handed them out all the time. I didn’t have to ask. She was just there—ready to embrace me. All of me. Even the bad parts I had worked so hard to change. She cared about me. She valued me. And she was wise enough to see I was still figuring out how to make this work between us. The truck was a gift, but it wasn’t the gift.
The real present from Tisdale was an open invitation to spend time with her.
“How am I still crying?” I wiped my cheeks with my palms. “I can’t see for my eyes leaking.”
“Then let me be your guide.”
Hand in hand, Midas and I made our way to the sweets. It was slow going, with all the handshakes, hugs, and congratulations, but it was the perfect culmination of having my nose to the grindstone for two long years. He borrowed a pair of folding lawn chairs once we ate our fill, and we settled in for the festivities.
Friends stopped back to chat, vendors brought me more food, which might have been the best part, and new friends were made. Food, music, and happiness did that, brought people together.
Tonight, I was the epicenter, and ri
pples spread from my interactions with all these people.
My people.
My city.
Down deep, Atlanta stirred within me, our bond a tickle in the back of my brain.
A tickle Ambrose…didn’t appear to notice.
Now wasn’t that interesting?
Maybe Midas wasn’t the only one with new channels seared into his gray matter. Maybe the vow I took, the blood I spilled, had forged a pathway belonging solely to Atlanta and me. That was a happy thought.
The block party rocked until dawn touched the horizon, and the city’s human population began to wake.
“The party’s winding down.” Midas took my hand. “Ready to go home?”
A cranky toddler had nothing on me as I lifted my arms over my head. “Up.”
“Aww.” Bishop, who’d joined us around my third slice of cake, got to his feet. “Baby Hadwee is sweepy.”
Narrowing my eyes on him, I curled my lip. “Grr.”
“You two will make cute babies one day.” He pinched my cheek. “Oh, wait. One of you already is one.”
I chomped my teeth at his fingers, which earned me a laugh from Midas, but Bishop only cooed louder.
“If you want to keep those attached, Bishop, quit while you’re ahead.” Midas turned his back on me, and he knelt facing away. “Climb on.” He waited until I complied to grip my chunky boots in a lock around his waist then rose slowly. “Let’s get you home.”
“Home sounds good.” I propped my chin on his shoulder. “Really good.”
Stuffed with dessert, smoked meats, and an unholy amount of nachos, one of the most versatile foods known to mankind, I was asleep and drooling down his nape before he cleared the block.
Fourteen
The alarm trilled on my phone, and my eyes popped open with an eager glint for the night ahead.
Midas rolled out of bed, gloriously naked, and stretched until his spine popped like bubble wrap.
“Ready for your first night of official Potentating?”
“Hmm?”
The flex of his spine distracted me there for a minute. Or maybe it was his butt. Probably his butt.
The look he threw over his shoulder told me I was busted. “Want to shower with me, Ms. Potentate?”
“I’m not sure, Mr. Beta.” I pulled the covers up to my chin. “It’s mighty comfy under this blanket.”
“Suit yourself.” He padded into the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a few.”
Alone in the room, I mashed a pillow to my face to muffle my squeals while I kicked my feet with glee.
Against all odds, I was the Potentate of Atlanta. The POA. The boss.
I was…so far beyond happy no word existed to describe the utter joy in my heart.
Midas exited the bathroom with a towel around his hips, and I admired the view for a heartbeat or ten.
“That shower set a new world record.” I tried to play it cool. “Your hair’s not even wet.”
“Mom called.” He held his phone in one hand and his pants from last night in the other. Neither of us had the energy to ring the hamper last night. We tossed our clothes on the bathroom floor where they fell and left them. “I’m needed at the den.”
There was no point in showering now if he planned on running on all fours while he was there.
“Everything okay?” I shoved upright in bed. “Do you need help?”
“A teen couple snuck into a cabin, lit one hundred candles for romance, fell asleep without blowing them out, and woke up to a blazing fire. Station Thirteen has it under control. We won’t lose any forest, this time, but I get to discipline the kids.”
“Thank the goddess for normal problems.”
“You must be reading my mind.”
Placing my fingers to my temples, I hummed. “I’m picking up on something else.”
“Oh?” He tossed his phone onto the bed. “Care to share?”
“Hmm.” I shut my eyes and scrunched my nose. “It was hazy at first, but yes. It’s becoming clearer.”
Amusement thick in his voice, he played along. “Describe this vision for me.”
“Well, it starts with you discarding that towel. Then you prowl up the bed and do naughty things with your tongue that may or may not involve nipples. Mine. Not yours. Just so we’re clear. After that, you and I explore the wonders of oral sex before discovering the wonders of regular sex.”
“I have a vivid imagination.” Midas’s eyebrows climbed. “And impressive stamina.”
“Yes,” I agreed, opening my eyes. “You do.”
“Permission to enact my fantasy, Ms. Potentate?”
Stretching across the pillows, feeling decadent, I hit him with my best come-hither purr. “I’m ready for you to ravish me.”
“I assume you’ll correct me if I get the sequence wrong.”
“Hey, they’re your dirty thoughts. I’m just giving them voice.”
A quick tug on the knot at his waist and the towel slid off his hips. He prowled up the bed until he covered me with his warmth and his strength. I linked my hands behind his nape to play with his hair.
“So far,” I praised him, “your recall is on point.”
A smile tipped the right side of his mouth, and his eyes sparked crimson. “I love you, Hadley.”
“I love you too, even if you broke from the script.” I patted his butt. “I’ve been thinking…”
“I’m scared,” he deadpanned, and I punched him in the arm. “Tell me, so I can stop imagining the worst.”
“The Society tends towards men taking their wives’ last names. That’s not always the case. I mean, look at Addie and Boaz. She’ll be a Pritchard. But that’s the deal they cut, the choice they made.” I wet my lips. “The pack’s outlook is similar. Anyone who mates into the alpha’s immediate family, regardless of gender, becomes a Kinase. That’s how your sister’s husband ended up Hood Kinase, right?”
“Yes,” he agreed, the muscles in his stomach clenching. “That’s right.”
“I’m not who I used to be.” I struggled to articulate the problem. “Hadley Whitaker is more me than I’ve ever been, but she’s not an exact fit either. Almost but not quite, you know?”
“What are you saying?” A breath punched out of his lungs. “Exactly?”
“I would like to be Hadley Kinase,” I said, almost shyly. “If that’s okay with—”
His lips crashed into mine with bruising force as a claiming growl rose up his throat.
When we broke apart, I was breathless and squirming beneath him. “Is that a yes?”
“That is most definitely a yes.” He nipped my bottom lip. “Hadley Kinase.” He smiled. “I like it.”
“It feels right.” I cupped his jaw. “It feels…like me.”
“It also feels like we’re about to be interrupted.” He drew back with a slow kiss. “I heard Bishop come in about thirty seconds ago.”
“What?” I thumped my head on the pillow. “No fair.” I kicked my feet. “Tell him to go away.”
“Tantrums aren’t sexy,” Bishop yelled from the living room. “Get your butt out here.”
Running my foot over Midas’s calf, I wiggled my eyebrows. “How fast do you think we can…?”
“Not fast enough,” Bishop called out. “Come on, kid. The night’s wasting.”
Leaning in, Midas nipped my ear hard enough to sting. “We’ll pick this up where we left off before dawn.”
“Fiiine.” I rose to kiss his soft lips. “Side with Bishop the Buzzkill.”
“I heard that.” Bishop banged on the door. “You should have woken up early if you wanted nookie.”
“Please don’t call it nookie.” I choked on a laugh. “Midas and I make sweet, sweet love.”
The gagging noises told me Bishop was retreating to the kitchen.
“Responsibility, here I come.”
With a shove, I rolled Midas off me then stood and began dressing for the night. I finished before him and stood in the center of the room with my hands on my hips.
I turned a slow circle, but I couldn’t put my finger on what was bugging me.
Must be first-night jitters. But…it wasn’t my first night. I had no reason to be jittery.
Except I was official now. That made a difference. It made all the difference.
Warm lips pressed against my throat before Midas asked, “What is it?”
“I have the weirdest feeling I’m forgetting something.”
“Wedding invitations? Bridesmaid gifts? Groomsman gifts? Your cake? My cake?”
“Make it stop,” I begged. “Please.”
“It will,” he promised me with a kiss that burned down to my toes. “As soon as we’re married.”
On his way out the door, he held up his hand in the Vulcan salute, cementing my eternal love for him.
“Ready to boldly go?” Bishop held out my café mocha. “Sadly, your man has gone before you.”
“How long have you been waiting to use that line?”
“A gentleman never tells.”
“Good thing you’re no gentleman.”
We rode the elevator down to the lobby, and I walked past Hank, who scowled at me as usual.
Out on the street, I filled my lungs with city air, felt Atlanta stir, then set out on patrol with my bestie.
“Life is good,” I told him. “Life is so good.”
And it was only getting better.
Black Hat, White Witch
Chapter One
As I backed into the shop with a smoothie balanced on my latest bookish obsession, a romance between an owl shifter and a mouse shifter, I was greeted with screams and curses. Not literal curses. These days, I surrounded myself with human women who would clutch their pearls to learn I considered them a part of my makeshift coven. The uncomplicated circle of friendship satisfied the gnawing ache for community bred into all witches, allowing my power to slumber where it couldn’t hurt anyone.
Where I couldn’t hurt anyone.
Else.
“Rue.” Arden gripped my shoulders then marched me to the counter. “You ruined my cobwebs.”
“I heard what you did there.” I coughed up a wad of her artificial cotton decor. “What is all this?”
The Epilogues: Part I: Badge of Honor (The Potentate of Atlanta Book 6) Page 16