Page 165 of Lesson In Faith

“Consider it a gift then. I can do you some Tamsyn merchandise if you’re going to be one of those obsessive, totally smitten kind of husbands.” Weaving through the traffic, he lifted his shoulder. “T-shirts, mugs, notepads, mousepads—not that you’re a mousepad guy, but it’s an option.”

“Just the photo.” Merrick tried to slip the picture into his pocket, grinding his teeth as the movement did nasty things to his pain receptors. “Thanks.”

“Anytime. That reminds me, while I have your attention, we need to discuss a certain series of photos taken last year. I’m assuming you want the shots with you in them setting to one side?”

Christ, he kept forgetting about those. It was something else he needed to talk with Tamsyn about at some point. Not today, but soon. “For now. If Tamsyn’s okay with them, I’ll sign your waiver.”

“Deal. So, any regrets about tackling an armed moron? Aside from the obvious?”

This was what he liked about the photographer; when he was in the right mood, conversation was effortless and entertaining. He just segued from one topic to another so easily, time skipped in leaps and bounds.

They went from talking about Jedidiah and the extermination of the elders to discussing a new range of restraints Elias was trialing in the club. From there, the subject turned to the Mistresses and whether Ericka and Felicity would make things official or go their own ways in the future.

Merrick was rooting for the official route; they made a cute couple, but Levi was adamant it was more a relationship of convenience. But then, he was extremely jaded when it came to any relationship that wasn’t just a casual fling—finding his wife in bed with her college student had twisted him up, scarring him permanently.

By the time the Jeep cruised to a halt at Serenity, Merrick felt more like himself than he had in days. Enjoyable conversation, the love of his life sleeping peacefully behind him, and his escape from the hospital did wonders to eradicate the underlying, niggling sense of dying he’d been plagued by—it was probably irrational, but a man did have doubts when there was a hole in his gut.

Levi switched off the engine, shifting slightly in his seat to study him. “I get why you want this, Merrick. Are you sure now is the time? Take a few days, find your feet, be damn sure you can stand upright before throwing yourself in at the deep end.”

He understood his friend’s concern, was grateful for it. “Today is the day, Levi. I don’t care if I’m standing or on my knees.”

“Okay then, let’s wake up sleeping beauty and get this show on the road.”

Merrick opened the door before unfastening his seatbelt, awkwardly prying himself out of his seat. His body really wasn’t playing ball, protesting loudly as he unfolded his stiff limbs, using the door as a prop.

“Need a hand?” Evander, all six feet and seven dominating inches of him, loomed on the other side of the door. He grinned when Merrick looked up at him. “Welcome home, hero.”

Fuck, don’t tell him they were going to be riding his ass with the hero bullshit. He was nothing of the sort—he’d done what was necessary to protect his girl, that was all. Maybe, just maybe, there was a slight chance he’d gone a little overboard with his tactics, but he sure as hell didn’t harbor a single regret for killing Jedidiah.

Murder was never something he’d aspired to achieve. It wasn’t in his nature, that kind of violence. When someone he loved was threatened, however… he’d kill that son of a bitch a thousand times over without a shred of remorse.

“Don’t call me that.”

A massive hand patted his shoulder. “Does that mean we need to take down the banner?”

Banner? What fresh hell was this? Glaring at the blond giant with all the power he could muster, Merrick growled, “What banner?”

“The Littles teamed up and made you a banner. They love Tamsyn and think you now walk on water. There was talk of Sierra rehabbing a stuffie in your image, and Callie’s been baking chocolate chip cookies for three days.”

“Chocolate chip?”

“Mmm-hmm. Soft, gooey, and delicious.”

Hmm, he supposed he might be able to overlook the humiliation of a hero banner in favor of cookies. All joking aside, he wasn’t going to rain on the Littles’ parade. They were smart women with big hearts to go along with their childlike personalities, which meant they felt things like rejection on an intricate level. “I’ll be sure to thank them.”

The back door popped open and a sleepy, doe-eyed Tamsyn tumbled out, apparently baffled by their return home if her expression was anything to go by. She looked around blearily, then blushed when she saw Evander. “I-I’m sorry, I fell asleep. I think.” Frowning, she seemed unsure of herself. “Did you do what you needed to do? Did I miss it?”

“No, darlin’, we’re right on schedule.” Relinquishing the door, he closed it and smiled at her, holding out his hand. “I’ve had a lot of time to think, little owl. Everything that happened hasn’t changed my mind about marrying you; in fact, it only cemented that decision. I don’t want to wait for paperwork and all that shit—I want you to be mine, today. Now.”

Her tawny eyes went round and soft. “Now?”

“Now. If that’s what you want, too.” Trying not to double over, he kept his spine straight through sheer strength of will. “Today is just for us, Tamsyn. If you want a big wedding with the dress and the maids of honor, and all the jazz, we can do that in a few months when the legalities are in order. I’ll make it happen. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.”

She stared at him, lips slightly parted, her eyes still wide with shock. Her head tilted a little to the left, barely noticeable, before she set her hand unerringly in his and smiled. “I don’t want the dress or the maids, Merrick. I don’t need all the jazz. If today is our day, then all I want is you and our friends. Is that okay?”

Someone, somewhere up high, was looking out for him big time, he thought. He was blessed with her, with the opportunity to be her everything, just as she was his. Despite the fact he still felt weak and off-kilter, he clasped her face in his hands and touched his nose to hers, thrilled by her quiet giggle. “That’s more than okay, little owl. It’s perfect.”

It was, in his opinion. Not that he wouldn’t give her the traditional wedding day every—or nearly every—little girl dreamed of if Tamsyn asked. Right now, however, small and intimate was exactly what the doctor ordered.

---