18. 18

18

Kall e

T he generator I bought last year, the one Edie insisted I get, kicks in twenty seconds after the lights go out. The darkness is just long enough for a few shouts, a scream, and a few glasses to fall and break, and then the power is back.

The first person I find is Edie, eyes wide. I know she doesn't like storms, but just as I start across the bar to her, she gives herself a shake.

"Everything is okay," she calls out. "Generator works. But let's ring up your tabs so you can get home."

"Buddy system out there," I add in a loud voice. "We'll call some cabs, and I don't want to take your keys, so leave your cars if it's not a good idea to drive."

It's chaos for the next half hour as we close the tabs and get people into cabs. Battle Harbour has a surprisingly large taxi fleet, but it's still not enough as some who walked here now refuse to go out in the storm. I call Jonathan McKibbon and promise free lunches if a couple of police cruisers can ferry people home.

Still, it's quick to clear the place out as everyone rushes to go home to check on pets and parents and children .

Except for a few—Lyra and Kate among them. "Who've you got for security tonight?" I ask Lyra, looking around the bar for her security detail. Now that I think about it…

"Ah, well… no one," she admits with her best beguiling smile.

That smile might work on some, but not me. "What are you talking about?" Each of the royal siblings has a security team in place that accompanies them everywhere.

Lyra shifts with a flash of her guilty expression. It's only there for a moment, but as her big brother, I can always tell when she's done something wrong. "I left without telling them," she admits.

I cross my arms and glare down at her. "Which you've been told not to do."

"I felt bad dragging them out in the rain."

"That's what they're paid for." This growl is from Dillon, who stands at my back, mirroring my stance and expression.

"Mathias left in one of the castle cars," Edie says, stepping forward to play mediator as usual. "It's too bad you couldn't have gone with him."

"And now you're going to have to call and drag somebody else out in the rain," I glower.

"Can we deal with this tomorrow?" Edie suggests. "There's enough to deal with the power being out. Can you put her under your protection for the night?" she asks Dillon before turning to me. "And maybe let them crash at your place?"

Dillon doesn't like it, but he sends Chase to my apartment with the girls.

"How do you do that?" I ask Edie as she makes quick work of the floors. I was ready to leave the clean-up until tomorrow but Edie has already said if the power stays out, we should open early .

"Mop the floor?" she asks with confusion. "I've seen you do it a few times."

"Fix things," I clarify. "Defuse tempers. Settle people down."

"I have three sisters." She smiles as she wrings out the mop. "Someone has to be the level-headed one."

"Yeah." I reach for the bucket of dirty water at the same time as Edie does, which means our fingers touch—and that happens at the same moment as another thunder boom hits, which makes Edie jump. A splash of water tips out of the bucket.

"You really don't like thunder." I take the bucket as Edie mops up the spill. "Are you going to be okay tonight?"

"I'll be fine. I have candles."

I forgot that the power would still be off in her apartment and make a mental note to get the generator hooked up to the house. "I'll come up and make sure you're settled. I can stay with you." It's not unusual for us to hang out for an hour or so after closing, when we're both wired and sleep will be slow to come.

"I'll be fine," Edie repeats.

"I won't be." She looks up, brown eyes wide and questioning. "Not unless I know you're okay."

Is she thinking of how I held her while we danced? I can still feel the curve of her hip under my hand.

Is she thinking of Mathias? Has she realized how much of a dick he is?

Has she changed her mind about marrying me?

That one is probably a long shot.

"You don't like storms," I point out when she doesn't say anything. Edie always has something to say, and when she doesn't, I'm forced to fill the silence and usually end up feeling like an idiot. " The girls'll be giggling for a while and I don't want to listen to them."

"Good idea," Dillon says, and I start. As impossible as it seems, I've forgotten my security detail is still here. "Let Chase deal with them. I'll crash outside your door tonight."

"You can't do that," Edie protests as we move into the kitchen. Dillon takes a last look around before hitting the light switch. "I have a couch."

"Which I assume Maj will be sleeping on tonight, but if that's not the case—" His expression is pure innocence, but Dillon's eyes are dancing.

"I'll pull a chair out into the hall," she says quickly, and Dillon chuckles.

After a last check of the kitchen, we get ready to make the dash to the door of Edie's apartment. Dillon starts out first, his head bald and bare, like he's daring the rain to land on him. I push an umbrella into Edie's hand before she makes a run though the alley as I lock the kitchen door behind us.

I'm halfway there when I remember the cat.

"Cat!" I shout, stopping to rummage around the garbage bins. The collection of cardboard from yesterday is floating in a puddle. "Kitty? Kitty, kitty—Cat! You out here? Goddam cat," I mutter, hair dripping down my back.

Edie pauses, one hand on the door. "What are you doing?" she calls back.

"I need to get the cat," I tell her but a crack of thunder masks my words. I motion for her to go inside.

Of course she doesn't .

"What's wrong?" Even with the umbrella, Edie's hair is plastered to her head, ponytail drooping like it's run out of energy. Her eyelashes are like starfish.

"Get inside," I tell her.

"No. Why are—?"

"The cat," I insist. "She should be inside."

"She is," Edie surprises me by saying. "I called Stella today and they came and got her. She's safe. She'll get her checked out by the vet and hopefully adopted. No more eating garbage for her."

I stand in the rain and stare at Edie because she does it all. Everything. There is nothing this woman can't do.

Then I grab her hand and run with her to the door, her burst of laughter following us.

"When did you call Stella?" I demand as we leave a path of wet footprints up the stairs, trailed by Dillon.

"After you—when Bo was there. Gunnar and Ajax came and grabbed her, so she's safe and warm at the shelter," Edie says, pulling her keys out. "I didn't realize you were worried, or I would have told you." There's a puddle on the floor outside the apartment by the time she gets the door unlocked and a little of the tightness in my chest dissolves.

"I didn't worry about it. It's a cat."

"You were. You liked her."

"I never—she's a cat. I think it's a her. She eats my garbage. Course I don't like her."

"A cat you've been feeding for months. You did. I think you should call Stella and adopt her. I'll get you a towel," she promises Dillon as she opens the door .

"Maybe more than one." Dillon turns to me. "I didn't know you liked cats."

"I didn't either," I say, bewildered.

As Edie gets him a towel, we manhandle one of her armchairs out the door and into the hallway. I've always hated the thought of inconveniencing the men who are paid to protect me, but I've talked to them both enough about it to realize they accept it as part of the job. Still, I'm glad to see Edie return with a few towels, a warm blanket and pillow as well as a bottle of water and a muffin for him.

"I like watching her place," Dillon says, stuffing half the muffin in his mouth and drying his head with a towel.

"Careful you don't wake up Miss Bessie." Edie points to the other apartment door where Edie's seventy-year-old neighbour lives. "Actually, she might like it and come keep you company."

"I know Miss Bessie," Dillon says tightly. "I'll keep it down."

"I hate the thought of you out here," Edie frets.

"Just doing my job m'lady." He pulls out his phone so we can see the puzzle app he's pulled up. "You get some sleep, and don't let Maj keep you up."

I nod good night as I shut the door, leaving him in the hall.

Leaving Edie and me alone in her apartment.

Lightning flashes outside the big living room windows, illuminating the room to a hazy gray rather than pitch black.

It's about half the size of my apartment but cozy and clean with woman things like candles and books and plants, with a vase full of pretty flowers on the table.

It's more of a home than my place, and it smells like Edie .

She stands a few feet away from me, shoulders tight and uncertain. I'm over here enough to know where she keeps the corkscrew and her stash of cookies, but it feels different tonight. Maybe it's the storm and the lack of power that means we can't sit and watch Netflix like we usually do.

Maybe it's just because it's been a strange day.

I—kind of—asked her to marry me today. The echo of that, plus the ghosts of Fenella and Mathias drift between us.

"I don't like him out there," she says quietly, like there really are ghosts listening.

"I don't either, but that's what he does." When I'm at my apartment, there are two bodyguards with me at all times—one outside the door, the other staying in the spare room. When I stay in other places, one of them is always with me, the other outside in the car.

There's not a lot of privacy being a prince, but it's the only way I know. At least with Dillon and Chase, I get to live my life.

"He appreciates the muffin," I tell her. "And the blanket."

"I didn't want him to get cold. You," she bursts out, like she's only now realizing Dillon might not be the only one who is cold and wet. "I'll get you towels."

"That would be great since I'm kind of dripping all over your floor."

By the time Edie is back with a stack of towels, I've kicked off my shoes, soggy and ruined from the floating garbage in the alley. And I've shucked off my jeans so that I'm standing by the door in my boxer briefs and a soaking-wet shirt.

"Oh." Edie stops a few feet away, eyes even bigger than usual .

"I didn't want to drip through your apartment again," I tell her, unbuttoning my shirt. "We made enough mess getting the chair out."

I don't see her watching until I lift my head and the expression on her face looks like…

It kind of looks like she hasn't eaten in a couple of days.

"Is this okay?" I ask her quickly.

"You standing here naked? Um… sure?" She looks everywhere but at me, which is funny since we're standing in the dark.

I can't help the smirk. "It's not like you haven't seen me naked before."

"No, no, I'm fairly certain I've never seen you naked before," she corrects.

"It's not a big deal." I finish unbuttoning with suddenly unsteady fingers and let my shirt hang open for a moment before I shrug it off.

She looks at me with an expression I've never seen in her eyes, but I can read her pretty well. "Uh-huh," she says.

I stay like that for a moment. I know Edie is looking and I want—

I'm not sure what I want.

Finally, Edie draws a shaky breath and thrusts the towels at me. "I'll find you something to wear," she mutters, and heads to her room.

"You should get out of your wet clothes too," I call after her, just to be a jerk. In the dim light, I see Edie's cat watching me.

He doesn't seem impressed.