Chapter Thirty-One
JAMIE
T hings between Raegan and I have settled into a comfortable routine of waking up in the same bed, going to work separately, sometimes sharing our lunch breaks, then meeting back at home only to spend the rest of the evening learning all the possible ways I can make her cum, only to secretly relieve myself in the shower later. It’s been exhilarating, and a little bit exhausting, given I tend to stay up way too late doing that last part.
Raegan surprises me every day with how open she’s become towards her own sexuality. For someone who used to be timid and shy about anything sexual, she has truly blossomed into a confident and curious version of herself. I love seeing the wildness in her eyes when she decides to make the first move.
Earlier this week, she caught me completely off guard by coming into Double Double one mid-afternoon and asking for something not on the menu. She looked me right in the eye, unwavering, and ordered the three bean soup. I had no clue what she was referring to, because we do not offer soup, have never offered soup, but the longer those knowing eyes bore into me, I eventually put it together.
We made a show of me needing to get the ingredients from the back and her offering her assistance, though I’m pretty confident Casey knew exactly what we were doing. They just shook their head and took over the register while Raegan and I slipped to my office.
I barely had the door closed before she was sitting on my desk, shucking off her jeans. It wasn’t until after I stroked her to climax twice, making sure she saw stars both times, that I figured out what her secret order meant.
“Three bean soup,” I guffawed. “You ordered a vanilla soy latte.”
Raegan smirked at me with a satisfied grin and kissed me fiercely. “Took you a minute.”
Thinking back on our clandestine encounters, it occurs to me that I’ve never been happier in my life. Things just feel right, and for once, I don’t dread the next lunar cycle. Though I know shifting is something I’ll never be able to completely avoid, it feels a little less daunting knowing Raegan will be by my side. More than that, the thought of shifting doesn’t bother me as much.
Being a werewolf feels like such a separate part of who I am, having kept that identity secret for so long, but Raegan has embraced it so boldly, I’m starting to consider whether or not the secret was worth it.
What would be so bad about just accepting what I am with grace? It’s not like I’ll ever be able to escape it. I’ve wasted so much time resenting the control the moon has over me, stuck in a ritualistic routine of bowing to its will every damn lunar cycle, but what if I’d spent that time at peace instead? I could have had this sacred time with Raegan so much sooner. If only I’d embraced my inner wolf from the beginning, perhaps the mating bond would have manifested the moment we met.
As I start setting up the Double Double booth for Founders Day on Tuesday morning, I decide to officially let go of all the fear and doubt I’ve harbored towards being a werewolf. I’ve spent so long being afraid of the moon and the control it holds over me, but each time I lose myself in a pair of lips I now know better than my own, I no longer need to be afraid. Because Raegan is my new moon, and I will follow her anywhere.
The only issue is how to come out to the town. Technically, by not declaring myself a paranormal when I first moved to Shadow Hills, I’ve been breaking the law for the past sixteen years. I’ll have to plan a sitdown with Mayor Musthaven and explain my situation. Hopefully, given he’s a paranormal himself and understands the complexities of being such, he’ll give me a break. I decide I’ll wait until after the festival. No need to distract him with my poor decisions while he’s got so much on his plate.
Pushing that dilemma out of my mind for future me to solve, I focus on the activity around me. If anyone thought the center of town couldn’t get any more decked out for fall, they’d be wrong. On top of the pumpkins, stacks of hay, and colorful florals already lining the windows and doors of every business, those same decorations now flood the sidewalks and extend onto the cobblestones of Main Street.
In front of each storefront sits wooden booths filled with wares specific to each business. Everyone is given free reign to customize and decorate the space to their liking. I’ve never put too much thought into the look of our booth, but this year I feel inspired. Maybe it’s just my good mood translating over to the fall spirit, but I decide to line the top of our sign with fairy lights and a garland of orange leaves.
I also decided to add a pumpkin spice latte to our menu last week. Don’t get me wrong, it’s just a simple latte. No extra foam or fancy syrups. Just your basic pumpkin flavor with nutmeg and cinnamon. Another instance of my recent good mood influencing me to give the people what they want. I even added skulls to the shelves inside the coffee shop, but only for this weekend.
The festival starts at noon, so there’s another hour before the Founding Day festivities officially start. I decide to head over to the Bound and Buried booth to see what Raegan has adorned the space with this year.
It turns out I’m not the only one in good spirits. Everyone in town is high on the excitement of their favorite time of year. I pass Kiki’s Cafe where there’s a makeshift bowling lane set up with hay bales, the ball being a small, perfectly round pumpkin. I wave at Kiki and Kendra behind their L-shaped booth where they’re spooning out creamy tomato soup into styrofoam bowls. Kiki is wearing a bright orange sweatshirt with a jack-o-lantern face on the front. Kendra, on the other hand, has taken a more spooky approach to her outfit. Her face is painted white and her eyes are blacked out with dark makeup that runs down her cheeks. She’s wearing an off-white victorian era dress that’s torn in random places, eyelet lace draping lazily from the seams. She looks just like the image of a banshee from human folklore, no doubt her intention, and it’s terrifying. I feel for any kids who cross her path.
I walk around a large seating area with tables for people to sit and eat their food and a cluster of apple bobbing bushels for kids, then cut across the courtyard in front of City Hall that’s been cleared for a bonfire, fallen leaves crunching beneath my boots. Dodging strategically placed logs and blankets, I turn the corner and find Raegan’s booth in front of the firehouse.
Instead of a covered wooden booth like the others, Bound and Buried has two long tables lined along the sidewalk. Both are draped with orange tablecloths and filled with stacks of books, covers facing up, as well as bookmarks, notepads and pens, stickers, and a handful of custom made book sleeves (Raegan owning one being the only reason I know what they’re called). On either end of the tables are rolling carts filled with more books, but these are labeled with a little wooden plaque that reads SIGNED BY THE AUTHOR.
I’m about to call Reagan’s name when I’m stopped cold by a sudden chill wracking my body. Mayor Musthaven then appears in front of me, having floated through me from behind.
“Sorry about that, Mr. Trent,” he apologizes jovially.
“Mayor.” I’m still trying to rub the feeling back into my arms since my long sleeve henley is doing nothing to warm me right now. “How’s it going?”
“Oh you know,” he drawls. “Looking forward to another successful Founding Day!” Then his expression dampens. “On the other hand, I was hoping to run into you.”
Now I'm feeling chilled for a different reason. What purpose could the mayor possibly have to seek me out? “Why is that?” I ask cautiously.
“It’s about that fellow who assaulted your friend, Miss Baker. I found out this morning from Sheriff Simmons that he was released on bail yesterday.”
My inner wolf tilts its head. “He’s out of jail?”
“Unfortunately,” Mayor Musthaven bumbles, stroking his walrus mustache, “He must know someone with a decent amount of cash, because his bail was set pretty high, given the charges. But there’s nothing to do now that it’s paid. His court date isn’t for several weeks, but he’s free to be at home until then.”
I’ve never been more grateful that Raegan finally moved in with me. There’s no way in hell I’d want her living in the same building with that guy, especially now that he’s got a grudge. Patrick is probably furious at me, and Aidan, for making a fool out of him in front of the town, but over my dead body will I let him get any sort of revenge.
“Does the sheriff have extra patrols for the festival? They need to know there's a criminal on the loose with a motive to hurt someone.” Again.
“They know, son. But you know the force doesn’t have that kind of man power. And Twitty’s about as threatening as a squirrel.” He moves to place a hand on my shoulder for reassurance, but then thinks better of it when I grimace. “Don’t worry. With this many people around, I doubt he’ll try anything again.”
It’s more likely Patrick will take advantage of the large crowd and use it as the perfect distraction. But maybe the mayor is right. One: Twitty Simmons is a worthless sheriff, and two: everyone in Shadow Hills is going to be out and about on the streets today, which means dozens of sets of eyes to keep watch. All I have to do is spread the word, then I’ll have the entire town helping me look out for Raegan’s safety.
“Between you and me, can we keep this to ourselves?” I ask. “I’ll tell her about it at a better time.”
He looks to where Raegan and her coworkers are filling baskets with bookmarks and prints with quotes. “I understand,” he agrees. “Wouldn’t want to ruin a good day.”
I give the mayor a nod and head straight for the bookstore’s booth. It might be selfish, but I don’t want Raegan catching wind of the news. Knowing Patrick is out of jail will only cause her unnecessary stress.
I surprise her by appearing at the end of the table when she turns around.
“Jamie!” Her smile is so big and so genuine, I decide it’s the only ego boost I’ll ever need. Knowing someone is that happy to see me, I have no reason to be sad ever again.
“Did you have this many books out last year?” I ask, picking up a random one and reading the title. “ Loving the Lochness Monster .” I immediately put it back. “Hard pass.”
“Yes, we did,” she answers, “and don’t judge the monster romance.”
“No judgment here.” I wink. “Every monster deserves love.”
Her expression turns serious, and she lightly strokes my forearm. “You’re not a monster, Jamie.”
Thanks to her, I’m starting to believe that.
I move closer, the invisible string between us pulling taut. I want to kiss her, but I’m not sure if she’s ready for such a public display of affection. Instead, I squeeze her hip lightly beneath her cardigan. It’s covered in patches of pumpkins and coffee mugs. Either she and Kiki coordinated, or I didn’t get the ugly sweater memo. I thought wearing a flannel was festive.
“Come by my booth around noon and we’ll walk around together,” I suggest.
She smiles. “Alright.”
I give her a wink as I walk away, and I swear I see her swoon a little. As I make my way back through the winding maze of tables and booths, I start spreading the word to keep watch for Patrick. Kiki and Kendra agree like it’s their life mission, and I make sure to text Aidan, too. Hopefully, with enough people watching like hawks, there will be no surprises today.