Page 38

Thirty-Eight

Luna

“Did you have the board meeting?”

I smile at Bri as I walk into the common space. As usual, she has a book in her lap, but she is also more animated than I’ve ever seen her, her confidence growing daily since she showed up at the party for Aiden and me.

“We did,” I say, sitting down across from her and nudging her foot with mine.

She looks rested and calm—and I know it’s partly because she accepted the bakery job and the bed here at the shelter.

But I know the rest of it is Kathy.

And Smitty.

And Gray.

And Joel and Aiden and all the rest of the Blacks.

They’ve hovered, checking in, reminding her that she’s not alone, showing her that there are good people in the world—connection without pushing.

Well, there was Kathy offering Bri a spot in her guest bedroom.

But she didn’t protest—much—when Bri declined, something my little teenage sidekick also did of Aiden’s and my offer to stay with us at Gram’s place.

My place.

It still feels weird to say that.

Same as it feels weird to say I’m married.

And that I’m the majority shareholder of Smythe Industries.

I grin.

“Well?” she demands.

“Well…we had the meeting.”

“Yes”—she makes a hurry up sign with her hand—“and what happened at that meeting?”

I shrug, affecting casual when I’m anything but in this moment. “It turns out that joining a partnership with Genen-core”—Jace Henderson’s company—“and Titan Capital”—Jean-Michel’s firm—“calmed the board enough that they voted in favor of my insulin program.”

Her eyes light up. “Really?”

I nod. “Really.”

It was almost anticlimactic, how the pieces fell in place after Jean-Michel and Jace joined my side, and— if I’m being honest—I’m a little disappointed. I finally found the strength to fight…and then I didn’t need to.

Not much anyway.

Still, I’m sure that time will come eventually.

Because my brother and father have lost a battle, but they’re not the type to give up on the war.

Lucky, I have smart, capable people on my side.

Like Jean-Michel and Jace putting their heads together and somehow a few stories got “leaked” (and yes, I’m making mental air quotes at that word) about what our future plans for growth at Smythe are, causing the stock prices to go up.

So, the shareholders were happy.

Which means the board was happy coming in to the meeting today.

And because I am now the majority owner of Smythe on said board, the others have an interest in keeping me happy…and ignoring my brother and father’s blustering.

New projects with Genen-core and capital from Titan along with a positive news cycle?

It’s like the businessman’s trifecta of orgasm material.

“That’s awesome!” she exclaims. “You did it!”

“The legal fight is far from over,” I feel obligated to remind her.

And myself.

Because…stubborn Maybelles.

“Smitty says that JM”—a moniker I’ve learned that Jean-Michel isn’t entirely fond of, but he tolerates…

probably because he figures there’s no point in doing anything but tolerating Smitty’s nonsense and maybe also because Bri has picked it up and the grumpy billionaire has a soft spot for her—“has really good lawyers.”

“He does,” I agree.

“So”—she shrugs—“that’s that. It’ll all work out.”

I still.

Because where the hell has this girl been? It’ll all work out? And that’s not just lip service—I can see she believes that. It’s in her eyes, her smile, her words.

And why do I feel the same?

The magic of Aiden and company.

Of love and connection and…

Two tenacious billionaires.

I nudge her foot with mine again. “That’s it,” I agree with a nod. “It’ll all work out.”

Teenage curiosity suitably satisfied, she picks up a book and tosses it into my lap. “Angie”—one of the other girls who lives permanently at the shelter—“recommended this. Do you want to read it together?”

“Is it fantasy?” I ask.

Her mouth kicks up. “Yes.”

“Does it have sexy fae heroes?”

“Yup.”

“And a kickass heroine?”

“Absolutely.”

I clutch the book to my chest. “Then I am so absolutely in.”

She holds up another copy, mouth turning up. “I knew you would be.”

“Right, then,” I say, settling back in the chair opposite her. “How about one chapter before I have to head out?”

“Just one chapter,” she agrees, opening to the first page.

Spoiler alert: we don’t read just one chapter.

And also…

Despite my earlier certainty, it doesn’t all work out.

Not by a long shot.

So, one chapter turned into five chapters and pretty soon we were a quarter of the way through the book.

“Angie was right,” I tell Bri as I force myself to close the book, gather up my things, and stand. “This is really good.”

“And there are four more in the series,” she says and it’s so nice to see her smiling.

“Well I know I’m not going to get anything done for the next week.”

“Hey”—she closes her own book and stands, trailing me to the door—“binge-reading an entire series isn’t nothing.”

“I like the way you think.” Hitching my purse over my shoulder, we pause at the door that leads to the sleeping quarters of the shelter. “Will I see you tomorrow at Kathy’s for dinner?”

She nods. “She’s teaching me how to make chocolate chip cookies.”

My stomach rumbles and we both laugh. “Well, clearly, I can’t wait to taste the results.

” I dare to bump her shoulder with mine, joy in my heart when she bumps me back.

I know that, for as comfortable as she’s gotten with Kathy, physical contact is still tough for her, so don’t want to push it. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” I murmur.

“’Night,” she murmurs back but before I can leave, she says, “Luns?”

I pause with my hand on the metal bar that opens the door, glance back over my shoulder. “Yeah, honey?”

She doesn’t say anything but moves in a rush, closing the distance between us in a second, so fast I don’t have a chance to brace or get out of her way.

And it’s a good thing.

Bracing would do nothing—because the impact isn’t physical.

And getting out the way would have been a huge mistake—because I would have missed this .

Her arms wrapping around me and squeezing tight as she gives me the best hug of my life.

And I’ve had some pretty great hugs in my life.

“Thanks,” she whispers after a long moment and I know it’s not for reading with her tonight or even for the invite to the party that brought her into the Grizzlies and Black fold.

It’s for everything—being here, being a person she can trust, showing her there’s more to life than just surviving, that we can fight and laugh and live.

And along the way, I’ve learned the very same lessons.

Learned so much more.

Because I remembered what it felt like to be loved—and how to give that love to the right people.

But I don’t say any of that.

Not tonight.

Sappy exchanges can come another night.

I just hug her back just as tightly and say, “you’re welcome.”

And I don’t let go until she does.

Then with the hug held close to my heart, I say goodbye, get into my car, and I drive home.

Unfortunately, what I find there isn’t a big, bearded hockey player whose heart is mine…

Instead, I stumble onto my worst nightmare.