Celestra Forever After (37 page)

“Nope.” Brielle chimes in gleefully. “Just some cheapies we bought at the dollar store. Drake had the genius idea to write
Made in Paragon
on them and voila!”

“Made in Paragon?” I’m stumped. “But they weren’t made in Paragon.”

Drake shakes his head. “Where do you think I wrote that shit? Besides, I looked it up. According to international trade laws, only part of it has to be manufactured here.” He plucks at something hanging from his back pocket and dangles a shirt in front of us. It’s a plain white T with the logo
Made in Paragon
on the lower left, and the outline of a bird in flight just above the P. “There’s that damn crow that keeps shitting on my head.” Drake points at the glorified letter M. “I thought that added a little something extra to it.”

Yeah like a liability suit—never mind the fact it’s not a crow, it’s a raven. Besides, I don’t bother telling the two of them that a store on the mainland has a logo that looks just like that, albeit with a seagull.

“Good work.” I’m just about to corner Mia when a car comes screeching up the driveway, blaring its horn.

“For cripes sake, what now?” Tad springs up, and the entire lot of us are quick to follow him out the door.

“Skyla, would you mind?” Mom hands me Misty while picking up her newest edition from the playpen—Ember, with her pale eyes, her mesmerizing dark hair. I can’t believe Em just dumped her with my mother. Even if it was my idea—it was a lousy one.

We head out into the frigid air. The rain has just stopped and washed the landscape clean of any fog.

Ethan sits on the hood of that souped-up muscle car he’s been nursing back to health from the salvage yard last summer.

“What do you think?” He holds out his hands like a douche.

“Did you put gas in it?” Tad walks around inspecting for dents.

“Nope, got a paint job.”

Crap. Ethan must be colorblind because it’s the exact shade of grey it was this morning. Figures—one Landon brings home federally issued lettuce, and the other Landon is one sandwich short of a picnic.

“It’s the same color, you numb-nut.” Drake is quick to point out.

Wow. Who knew Drake would turn out to be the brains of this disorganization? Baby Beau waddles out, and Drake scoops him up. Something in the act endears me to my stepbrother.

I bet Gage will hold our baby all the time. I melt straight down to my bones just envisioning Gage holding an entire gaggle of children. I thought, after watching Emily give birth, I’d never be open to the idea, but, now, I want an entire herd of kids with Gage. Bring on the head spinning and projectile vomiting because Gage Oliver and I are going to make some seriously beautiful babies one day.

Misty touches my neck and takes a fistful of flesh in her hand.

“Ouch. No, no,
no
.” I try to carefully pry her fingers off, but she’s got a death grip on me.

“It glows in the dark.” Ethan slaps the car as if it were brilliant.

“Well it’s dark and its not glowing.” Melissa points out.

“That’s because we need the sun to power it up.”

Again. Stuck on stupid.

“It’s never sunny on Paragon.” Mia cries out as if her sanity just flew from her skull like a bat in flight.

“That’s why I got a solar lamp, you moron.” He circles around the car and pulls out an industrial-sized sunlamp from the back, large enough to flood any football stadium with its artificial rays.

Tad starts in on a tirade about the cost of electricity, and who knows what else, but I can’t focus on his bitching because Misty is looking right into my eyes, and a vision starts to form. She’s imparting it to me just the way Gage does. It’s Demetri’s ugly mug—he’s cooing at her. Poor thing is reliving a nightmare.
How’s daddy’s little princess? I’ve have big plans for you, my love. Ask me for anything—up to half my kingdom—I will lay it at your feet.

Crap!

I hand her back to Mom like a hot potato.

Gage pulls up to the base of the driveway. I snatch up my overnight bag and run on down.

I push all thoughts of Demetri and his horrifying grimace out of my mind—but he keeps floating back to the surface like an oil stain.

Dear God, it can’t be true.

All the way to the Oliver house, I ruminate over the fact I still need to talk to Ezrina about a strategy that will enable Gage to live to his full potential. The Tenebrous Woods flash through my mind.

“You know, we should probably have Ezrina help us formulate a plan to start siphoning people out of those tunnels.”

“I agree. We should get a head count so we know what we’re up against,” he says, parking high up on the driveway. Gage comes over to my side and helps me out while carrying my oversized duffle bag. “I looked all up and down Paragon for a decent apartment earlier, and there’s nothing we can afford.” Gage looks genuinely beaten down, but something about that far away look in his eye tells me it has nothing to do with our sudden housing crisis.

“Something will come up.” I tighten my arm around him. “People don’t live with their parents forever. Besides, I’ve got something that might cheer you up.” I cinch a private smile because I happen to know for a fact I planted my old cheer uniform in that duffle bag. I plan on
cheering
him up in private later. Who needs sexy underwear at forty bucks a pop from The Naughty Hawty when I’ve got a little something from West Paragon that will never stop entertaining my man?

Gage leans in before opening the door. A pained look sweeps across his face. “I love you, Skyla.”

“I love you.” We share a simple kiss just as the door swings open.

“You’re back late.” Emma’s face catches the shadows in all the wrong places, making her look like a creature from the pit of—well, being she’s my mother-in-law, I’ll defer from the reference. “You’ve missed dinner and dessert.”

I give Gage the once over. She wishes. Gage is still the best dessert in town.

“Sorry, Mom. I’ll give you a call next time.” Gage closes his eyes a moment as if life just kicked the shit out of him one last time. “I’d better get to bed. I’m beat.”

Emma takes a breath. I can tell she’s just getting started.

“Um, I have to get up early tomorrow,” I whisper. “I’ll just head up to Logan’s room. Goodnight.” I give Gage a little wink before trotting up the stairs. I plan on pulling my hair back in a ponytail and applying that garish red lipstick Chloe used to make us wear. I’m not about to let my new husband go to bed without a little loving tonight.

Emma’s voice picks up like a swarm of bees just as I hit the top of the stairs. She’s bitching full steam ahead, and I’ll bet it’s about me. I pause a second to listen in.

“I will not be disrespected in my own home,” she murmurs.

“Got it.” I hear Gage say.

“I will have none of that under my roof.”

My stomach sinks. Crap. She’s either onto us, or she’s making sure Gage keeps his hose away from the four-alarm fire in my pants.

“Under her roof,” I mutter on my way to Logan’s room. Maybe we’ll do it
on
the roof. God knows I’m in the mood for some hot roof sex with Gage. I give a little giggle. I plan of having him everywhere and anywhere. Sorry Emma. That boy is all mine.

I step into Logan’s bedroom and turn on the light. I lock the door and do a quick change into my cheer uniform. Fits like a glove. I tug the skirt down a bit and admire myself in the mirror. The sound of rumbling comes from the closet followed by a bang.

Crap. It’s probably Chloe. She’s going to totally take advantage of her newfound ability to zap herself wherever the hell she wants. It would figure. In an effort to punish her, my mother outfitted the bitch with a ton of brand new superpowers.

A set of footsteps thump in my direction, and I stop breathing. My heart flutters a mile a minute as I look around for something to bury deep in Chloe’s skull. Or maybe it’s that pitiful douche that’s taking lessons on wickedness from her? Wes.

Him I’d like to just plain old bury.

The footsteps slow as they grow closer in proximity, and that brown bottle I once used to slice Logan’s face catches my attention. He kept the working end of it as a memento, and I’m quick to cradle it in my hand—shards facing out.

The closet door opens a few inches, and I gasp.

Here it is, my moment to carve Chloe like a pumpkin. But it’s not Chloe, and it’s definitely not the douche taking up residency in the Transfer.

He dips his chin with that sexier than hell smile. A hint of sadness flashes in those amber eyes. “You still trying to break that damn bottle?”

I can’t breathe. I can’t move. The universe just started up again like an old engine that conked out as far back as last December.

“Logan?” My heart drops straight through to middle earth. “What are you doing in your bedroom?”

“What are
you
doing in my bedroom?” His dimple lengthens parallel to his face. “Don’t answer that.” He makes his way over with a determined gait. “I left you in a bedroom. I think it’s fitting I find you in one.”

“Logan.” I wrap my arms around his familiar body. I bury my face in his chest and take in his heady scent—musk and spiced wood, a hint of lavender. He feels solid, and real, and in every way like his old self. “God, I’ve missed you.” I plant my lips over his T-shirt and linger before pulling away. “Thank you for coming back.” Tears fill my eyes, and my legs begin to tremble. It’s as if I’ve stepped into a dream, and I never want to wake up. “Tell me you’re here to stay.”

“I’m here to stay, Skyla.” He wipes the tears from my cheek. “Please don’t be sad. I can’t bear it.” He glances down at the protective hedge, the mirrored heart dangling from my neck and cradles them in his palm a moment.

“I’m not sad.” I lay my hand over his, and he gives it a brief kiss before returning it to my side. My body shakes just being this close to him. I dig my nails into my bare thighs in an effort not to touch him again. A stunted silence takes over, and my gaze falls to the floor.

“I know you, Skyla.” Logan gently lifts me by the chin. His eyes press into mine, and it feels intensely intimate. We’re loving each other in the most primal way right here with our eyes. “I know all of your kisses, all of your smiles, your frowns. I can decipher every sigh that blows from your lips—you must know that I love you.”

I give a quick nod, forcing my eyes to focus on his shoes. A lone tear falls to the floor with an unceremonious splat. He tucks his finger under my chin once again and lifts me until we’re eye to eye.

“Skyla”—he breathes my name like a dream—“don’t cry for tomorrow when you have today.”

I grab a hold of his hand once again and shed a weak smile.

“You always know what to say, Logan.” I offer another heartfelt hug, so hard, so tight I’m about to break all our bones in the process. “I’m really glad you’re back.” I pull away and take him in again. His gorgeous features are clouded with a patina of sadness, and it hurts my heart to see it.

“I’m glad to be back.” His brows arch slightly amused as he looks me over. “You look great.”

I give a nervous glance at my cheer uniform. Shoot.

“Oh, I was just…”

“It’s okay. I’m heading back to Dudley’s.” He holds up his hands. His expression darkens. “Congratulations, Skyla.” His eyes search my face. “I’m really happy for you and Gage.”

There’s something distant in his eyes as if he’s withholding something from me.

Happy for me, huh?

Something tells me he’s not.

Gage

Skyla gives a light knock on the door about an hour after our run in with my mom. It’s pretty clear she’s not going to approve of Skyla and me shacking up here until we’re on our feet. Maybe if she knew we were married? I bet that would make her feel a lot better about Skyla in general.

“Close your eyes,” Skyla whispers, and I do. She enters the room, and I hear the click of the lock once she shuts the door. “Okay.” A floral scented breeze washes over me. “Open.”

Skyla stands there with her hands above her head, her cheer uniform from West on, and holy shit—my hard-on just sprung to life from nowhere.

She hops up and down and pumps her fist skyward. “Give me a G-A-G-E, what do you get?” She skips forward and lands a kiss on my lips. “My husband.”

“Nice move Messen—
Oliver
.” I give a lopsided grin at my quick correction as I pull her into the bed beside me. Skyla leans over switches off the lights.

A hard knock erupts at the door. “Gage?”

“Crap, it’s Emma,” Skyla whimpers.

“I got this.”

I flick back on the lights, and Skyla jumps out of my bed, doing her best to flatten her skirt. Damn she looks good. Was that skirt always that short?

I head over and open the door a few inches. “What’s up?” I do my best to sound beat, but, the truth is, Skyla just helped me catch my second wind.

“I thought I heard screaming.” She cranes her neck in through the door and scowls. “Everything all right?”

“It’s fine. Skyla was just going over some cheers. Her sister made the team at West.” That made no sense whatsoever, and I don’t really care at this point. It sucks that Mom is so against Skyla being in my room, but I get it.