The Werewolf Meets His Match (Nocturne Falls Book 2) (13 page)

“Nothing. I’m just happy. Or I was until I got in here. I’ll be in my office.”

“You want coffee?”

“That would be great.” Now who wasn’t acting like themselves?

“Then you should probably go buy some. We’re all out.”

And that explained it. At least he’d had coffee at home. Shaking his head, he took ten dollars out of petty cash and slapped it on her desk. “Go to the Shop & Save and buy some. Please.”

“Who’s going to answer the phones?”

“I will. Go.”

“This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. I’m going to figure out what’s going on with you soon enough.”

Everyone would. He just wanted another day of peacefulness before the town erupted with the news that he was getting married. To a Kincaid. “Now.
Please
.”

With a put-upon sigh and no small amount of muttering, she gathered up her purse and headed out.

He went into his office to check his email and work on the week’s schedule. Besides himself and Deputies Cruz and Blythe, he had another four on the night-shift crew. Night shift in this town had been much easier to fill. In addition, he had five more reserve deputies he could call up in times of need. But those were few and far between in this town. He paused for a moment to enjoy the quiet. His mind went straight to Ivy. Hard to keep his mind on anything but her. Very hard.

He found himself staring at words on the screen, but not really seeing them. Random smiles found their way onto his face. No wonder Birdie thought he was acting strange, because he was.

He was falling for Ivy.

Or maybe he’d already fallen. Whatever the case, there were worse things than being infatuated with the woman you were going to marry.

He sent Bridget a text to reserve one of the back booths for him for lunch. It was a big step to go out in public with Ivy. The tourists wouldn’t care, but the locals would be abuzz with the news.

He sighed. He ought to tell Birdie now. If she found out secondhand, she’d make his life miserable.

And he was going to need a ring. He frowned. That was another area he had no expertise in. Maybe he’d take Ivy down to Illusions after lunch and see if the jewelry store had a ring she liked.

His smile came back. Maybe it was the wolf in him, but there was something deeply satisfying about the idea of making Ivy officially his. He
knew
it was his wolf that fueled that kind of possessiveness and would cause him to protect her with his life if need be. Thankfully, having the treaty in place meant life should be fairly peaceful.

He leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet up onto the desk. Would they bond? Having the mental communication would be nice, but he knew it wasn’t a guarantee. Bonding came most often with love matches, which this wasn’t.

Although the more time they spent together, the less it felt like an arranged marriage. How was it possible that they were so well matched?

He tapped the end of his pencil on the desk as a sliver of suspicion shot through him. Was there a chance Ivy was just telling him what he wanted to hear? Acting the way she thought he’d want her to act?

There was always a chance, but if the military had honed his already keen instincts, working as sheriff had put a fine point on them. He sensed no guile in her feelings toward him. And thinking his intended was setting him up in some elaborate ruse was a dangerous path to follow. Being skeptical was one thing, being paranoid was another.

He pushed that from his mind and went back to work. Birdie returned from the store a few minutes later, erasing the quiet. She was humming something to herself. Loudly.

“Birdie, come in here please.”

“What?” She stuck her head in through his office door, a grocery sack swinging from her hand. There was a bag of coffee and a bakery box.

He inhaled and picked up the sugary scent of chocolate glazed donuts. The woman had a worse sweet tooth than he did. He should have brought her a slice of Ivy’s chocolate cake. “Come in and shut the door.”

She squinted at him. “I thought you wanted me to make coffee.”

“I do. But that can wait. I need to talk to you.”

“Hmph.” The suspicion in her eyes grew. “If this is another attempt to fire me, I will call your mother faster than you can—”

“Aunt Birdie, I’m not firing you.”
If only.
The
aunt
part got her attention. He rarely called her that. Didn’t feel appropriate. Especially not in an official setting like the sheriff’s department.

She came in, shut the door and sat, resting the bag at her feet. “What’s all this about?”

“Everyone in town is going to know soon enough, but I figured you ought to hear it from me. I’m getting married.”

Her whoop of joy nearly blew out his eardrums. “Hank, that is wonderful! I didn’t even know you were dating anyone. Who is she? Do I know her? When’s the wedding? Oh, I’m so happy. What does my sister think?”

He held a hand up. “Take a breath, Birdie. It’s an arranged marriage.”

That settled her down. “Arranged? Why on earth is your father doing that to you? In this day and age—”

“It’s the final seal on a truce between the Merrows and the Kincaids.”

She recoiled in horror. “You’re marrying a Kincaid? My poor boy, your father should be ashamed of himself putting you in that kind of position. Just wait until I talk to my sister. I mean, look at that awful Kincaid woman who was in here the other night. I can’t imagine my sweet nephew having to spend the rest of his life with
that
kind of woman.”

He narrowed his gaze, but she didn’t seem to pick up on the consternation flowing through him. “What kind of woman would that be, Aunt Birdie?”

“You know.” She waved her hand. “
Loose
.”

“And you can tell she’s
loose
how?”

“The makeup and the motorcycle and the leathers and the tattoos. Especially the tattoos. She’s probably covered with them. Probably has a list of her ex-boyfriends on her somewhere.”

“She doesn’t. And she’s not covered with them.” He knew, because he’d seen every inch of her. “She’s got exactly three. The number five on the inside of her wrist, a piece of ivy on her arm and shoulder and a tiny heart on her left ankle.”

Birdie’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “How do you know that?”

“Because Ivy Kincaid is the woman I’m marrying. Do I really need to explain how I know about her tattoos?”

Birdie’s eyes rounded. “Hank!”

“Ivy’s coming here today, and we’re going to lunch. If you are anything
but
nice to her, I will fire you for real. Do you understand?”

She nodded, silent. But the silence only lasted a few seconds. “You…like her?”

“I do.”

“Is she the reason you were smiling this morning?”

“She is.”

Birdie took a moment to ponder that. “If she makes you smile, then I like that. But she’d better be a good wife to you or I’ll have a few words of my own for her. You can’t stop me from doing that.”

“She made me a steak dinner last night. Baked a chocolate cake from scratch.”

Birdie hmphed. “Lots of women bake. Doesn’t mean she’s the right one for my nephew.”

He leaned forward. “Listen to me. Ivy’s in the same spot I am, but as it so happens, we get on well.”

His aunt’s chin went a little higher in the air. “Apparently if you’ve seen
all
her tattoos.”

“She’s got enough to deal with without adding my crazy aunt to the mix. Be nice. Or you will have a
lot
of time off.” He pointed toward the front office. “Coffee.”

She stood and picked up her bag, marching away without another word. She came back a minute later with a manila envelope in her hand. “This was on my desk. Has your name on it. And I am
not
crazy.”

“Where did it come from?”

She shrugged. “Someone must have dropped it off when we were talking.”

He took it from her. “Coffee made yet?”

“I’m working on it, you ungrateful child.”

He smirked as she left. Sheriff Merrow was scrawled on the front of the envelope in barely legible writing, the black ballpoint ink a little smudged, but not enough that he could make out a fingerprint.

He tapped the contents of the envelope down to the bottom, then slit the top open with his pocket knife. He pulled out three grainy cell phone pics that had been printed on regular printer paper. Each one showed the same thing.

Ivy with a little boy. Had to be Charlie. Hank studied the photos, the sense that he was viewing a private moment giving him a second of unease. Obviously she hadn’t known these pictures were being taken.

Looked like they were outside a school. Charlie was a reed. A short reed. Hank shook his head, sympathy for the kid already growing. The way Charlie smiled up at Ivy made it clear the kid thought the world of his mother.

Hank stared at the pictures. Someone had delivered these for a reason. Did they think Ivy wasn’t going to tell him about Charlie? That by showing Hank these pictures, they’d create trouble? Why else would they be delivered without a word?

He held the photos up and inhaled. They reeked of shifter. Which didn’t do much to narrow down the field of suspects.

He tucked them away, almost forgetting about them until hours later when Ivy came in. Her voice in the reception area got him up from his desk. He opened his office door and leaned against the jam, taking in the sleek glory that was his bride-to-be.

Gorgeous in jeans and a black tank top with silver studs along the neckline, she stood in front of Birdie’s desk, biting her lip and looking like she was about to bolt.

Probably because Birdie was giving her the third degree. “So you’re marrying my Hank, are you? How many times have you been married before? What kind of housekeeper are you? You know he likes a neat house—”

“Birdie.” Hank barked his aunt’s name out like a command.

The grilling came to a fast end as Birdie whipped around. Not even an ounce of guilt colored her face, the old battle ax. “I was just about to let you know your
fiancée’s
here.”

“I see that. Stop harassing her.”

Birdie’s mouth thinned to a hard line. He looked at Ivy and tipped his head toward the space behind him. “Come into the office for a second.”

She did as he asked. He shut the door as soon as she was inside and pulled her into a kiss, unable to keep from groping her a little as he did. A soft, possessive growl slipped from his throat, and he nipped her bottom lip.

She sucked in a breath and pushed at his chest, her eyes half-gold with the same thing he was feeling. “Not that that wasn’t the best greeting I’ve had in a long time, but what’s gotten into you?”

He honestly didn’t know. He’d never felt this out of control before in his life. “You have.”

She stayed in his arms, eyes slitting down to half as she raked him with a languid glance. “I think it’s moon fever.”

“Maybe.” He gave her a few inches of room but didn’t release her entirely. “You want me to stop?”

She pursed her lips like she was trying not to laugh. “No. It’s kinda nice to have a guy who looks like you all hot and bothered by little ol’ me.”

He snorted. “Little ol’ you?”

She leaned back and frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not a little delicate flower. Which I like.” He grabbed her hips. “You’re tall and built, and I couldn’t ask for more. It’s nice to be with a woman I don’t feel like I’m going to break.”

Her eyes narrowed and she maintained her distance. “Are you saying you’ve been with a lot of women?”

“No.” He let her go, wondering what she’d think of his long, self-imposed dry spell.

“Did I ruin the moment?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t been with a woman in four, maybe five years.”

She looked a little horrified. “Why? There’s certainly nothing wrong with you physically to keep you from…indulging.”

He shrugged and pulled out one of his office chairs for her before he sat on the edge of his desk. “I didn’t want to get involved because I knew this day might come.”

She took the chair and beamed up at him. “So basically, you were waiting for me?”

He laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

Looking very pleased with that answer, she blinked her big brown eyes at him. “Where are you taking me for lunch?”

“Howler’s.”

She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “Oh good, the scene of the crime.”

“Do you want to go somewhere else? I was thinking you could get to know Bridget a little better if we—”

“It’s fine. I’m a big girl, as you said.” She grinned. “I can handle it.”

“Good, because after lunch, I have a surprise for you.”

She perked up. “More wooing?”

“You could say that. Speaking of surprises, I got a delivery today.” He reached behind him and dug out the envelope. He shook the pictures into his hand. “I assume this is Charlie?”

She stared at the photos, her mouth slowly dropping open as worry bracketed her eyes. “Yes, that’s Charlie. At school. Who delivered these?”