37. Chapter 37

Chapter thirty-seven

Fenella

I did not expect that reaction from Silas.

I'd hoped for it, but I didn't expect it and now I'm kissing him back even as my smile widens across my face.

Silas shifts, his lips pausing in their assault against mine.

A nice assault.

"Stop smiling," he growls. Growls . I never knew he could make that noise, and the sound thrills my insides.

"I can't help it." I bury my face against his neck and hug him tightly. "I'm so happy you like it."

"I'm so happy I let myself like you," Silas says into my hair.

I pull back and look at him. At his warm green eyes—they look more hot and a bit hungry rather than warm right now—and the softness of his beard. I touch his cheek. "You trimmed."

"I had to look my best for you."

"I don't need your best," I tell him. "I only need—"

You , but I don't say it.

"I like you more than I should," Silas says .

"Me too," I admit.

I realize we're blocking the kitchen when Wyatt tries to slide by, and I take Silas by the forearms and move him behind the bar. Tyler nods at him but leaves us alone.

"I like you, too." I say it out loud, for anyone to hear. "Maybe even—"

More? It's definitely more than like, but I hadn't wanted to admit it because it happened so fast, and when things happen fast for me, they tend not to work out.

But it feels right with Silas, like he is the puzzle piece I was missing.

And with that kiss, it clicks into place.

"I'm falling in love with you," Silas says loudly, loud enough for Tyler to glance over his shoulder at us, and for Rupert standing at the bar with Mabel Crow, to widen his eyes at me.

He gives me a thumbs-up.

"I wanted to say it first," I tell him, my smile creasing my face in a way that will make my cheeks ache, but I don't care. Silas loves me and I love him— "I'm falling in love with you, too. Just wanted to get that out there."

I'm smiling and ecstatic, happiness bubbling out of every pore, and Silas—

Silas looks like I kicked his puppy. Not a good look when the man you love just expressed his love for you.

"That doesn't make you happy?" I demand. "It makes me very happy, and it's my birthday, so you need to be happy too."

"Your birthday." Silas blinks. "Happy birthday, Fenella. You look incredible." He leans down and brushes my forehead with his lips.

"Nu-ugh." I shake my head at him, the ends of my hair flying in a curve. "I want a kiss like before."

"You're going home." His sadness is palpable.

"Yes."

His shoulders slump. "You're leaving."

"I didn't say that."

Silas's brow furrows, and I can't help but smile because confused Silas is quite adorable. "I don't want you to go."

"I know. We'll talk about it later." I take his hand. "If you're not going to kiss me, then dance with me. Let's have fun. Please, Silas?"

He shakes his head. "I can't say no to you."

"I know. You need to remember that."

My twenty-seventh birthday party is one to remember.

My closest friends are here, and my brother, and new friends I've made. I invited everyone I have ever interacted with from Battle Harbour, and almost every one of them came, most of them bringing friends, so the sixty-five guests are more like eighty, and we have to prop open the front door, letting in the cool air and allowing people to spill out onto the street.

This acts as an invitation to others walking by, as well as those who live on this street or close enough to hear the music, and so even more people stop by.

I do my best to talk to everyone there. I dance with Silas but eventually lose him in the crowd, only to find him deep in discussion with King Magnus and Kalle, with Spencer hovering.

I do shots with Coral and Sophie and leave them to have a giggling conversation about my brother.

I hug Coy Schmidt when he leaves with Laura, avoid a hug from Jonathan McKibbon, and take a selfie with Nancy Tanker.

We run out of food by eleven o'clock, and Tyler pours the last of the vodka just after midnight.

"So we're going to have to work on having more of an inventory and crowd control," I say to Silas. It's after one, and the majority of the crowd has dispersed, mostly after they realized we were out of alcohol.

"We?" The music has slowed from the frantic dance beats and I sway in the middle of the floor with Silas.

"We. Your club, my club, the bar that we should open. You have to admit, after this, Hela's is exactly what Battle Harbour needs."

"Hela's? The goddess of death?"

"Maybe she just had a bad day. It happens, you know. "

Silas smiles, but it quickly fades. "I agree that Hela's —we'll work on the name—would be a good idea; but Fenella, you have to know that if I open something, I'd want you to run it."

"I know. We'll talk about it later."

"When later?"

"Tuesday."