Page 1 of Beyond the Storm
Galen
He still smelled like the rain.
Simon soothed the restless beast inside me, and I could never hold him close enough.
“Hey, big guy?” Simon mumbled against my chest. He gently patted my back. “I, uh, can’t breathe.”
“If you can talk, you can breathe.” I eased my hold on him and pulled back. His glasses had gone askew, and I fixed them with a smile. “I thought you liked my crushing hugs.”
“I do.” Simon returned my smile. “But I also like, you know, oxygen.”
“Smart-ass.”
“It’s part of my charm.” His palms slid along my chest. “Pretty sure it’s how I snagged a stud like you. The first day you walked into my shop, I was like, ‘Damn. I want to climb him like a tree.’ Remember how you tried to flirt to get into my storage room?”
“How could I forget?” I smoothed aside his sandy-brown bangs. “You told me no.”
He laughed. “That feels like a million years ago. A lot has changed since then.” Closing his eyes, he leaned into my touch. “And I don’t regret a single moment.”
“Neither do I.”
Every moment had led me to him. It had led us to where we were now—living life without the threat of war hanging over our heads. My brothers and I had fought hard for so long and sacrificed so much.
And now, we could finally live in peace.
“Excuse me?” an older woman browsing the shelves in the antique shop asked. She held up a mantle clock. “Is this really two hundred bucks? Seems like a rip-off to me.”
“Take a breath, big guy,” Simon whispered. “Don’t murder the little old lady.”
“Well, the little old lady needs to keep her goddamn mouth shut.”
Simon chuckled under his breath before stepping toward her. “That price is actually a steal. It was made by the Ansonia Clock Company in the late 1800s. If you look right here, you’ll see how…”
As he continued to explain the history, she looked at the clock with more interest.
I glanced at the storefront windows. Rain pelted the sidewalk, and people passed by, hunkered beneath umbrellas. Those without pulled up their jacket hoods and rushed toward their vehicles parked on the street. The wet, overcast day didn’t keep the citizens of Echo Bay from shopping.
The woman decided to buy the clock—for her nephew who collected those types of things, she said. Simon scanned her debit card, carefully wrapped the item, and handed it back to her, telling her to enjoy the rest of her Saturday. More customers trickled in and out of the shop, some browsing before leaving and others finding treasures to take home.
Simon smiled each time he spoke to a customer. He was meant to do this. Not stressing over battle or worrying that I, or one of my brothers, wouldn’t come home. He looked happy.
I loved him.
“Mine,”Wrath said with a purr.
“Ours,”I reminded the grumpy bastard.
Around noon, we closed the shop for lunch and walked over to his favorite Chinese restaurant. After we ate, we stopped by the coffee shop for two large lattes to go. I bought him a banana nut muffin, too, after catching him eyeing it. Despite what he believed, he was beautiful, and if he wanted a muffin, by the gods, he would get one. Once returning to the store, I unlocked the front door and flipped the sign back to Open.
To some, it might’ve seemed mundane, but I enjoyed the easygoing flow of it all. I enjoyed working with Simon and seeing that gleam in his eyes while surrounded by the shop he loved. It was just another amazing, typical day.
Until it wasn’t.
“What’s this?” Simon asked as he approached the front counter.
A black box sat on top. A box that wasn’t there earlier.
“Wait. Don’t touch it.” I placed my hand on his lower back, gently guiding him away from the counter.
