26. Darkness Lifted （Micah）

26

DARKNESS LIFTED (MICAH)

I think I need a new prescription for my glasses.

I sit behind the wheel of my car, waiting outside the Raleigh clinic, and wipe a few smudges off my lenses with a microfiber cloth. I had to ditch the contacts today because lately they've been giving me halos when I drive at night, and it'll be dark by the time I pick up Gerald and make it back to Redhaven.

It's my turn to shuttle back home this week.

He stays at the cognitive therapy clinic for about a week every month before coming home brighter and clearer, armed with new exercises and meds to help restore his mind.

Normally, Talia and I make the drive together.

Only this time, the shop had a massive order come in for custom furniture for a wedding present placed by some wealthy couple from Virginia. The Bridezilla's been driving Talia so batshit that she's been shut up in the workshop for days.

I didn't dare interrupt her flow.

Then again, I may also have an ulterior motive for wanting to see Gerald alone today, but I'll cross that bridge soon enough.

I finish wiping my glasses, put them back on, and squint across the parking lot. It's turning brassy from the heavy rays of sunset.

Yep.

Still a little bit blurry by the time my line of sight hits the far edge of the parking lot. A minor adjustment should fix it, though I should probably go in for another round of Lasik. For some people, it's a permanent solution, and for others it has to be redone every decade.

Guess which one I am.

I'm lucky that I can, though.

I've never really thought about that shit before.

I've spent my whole life with a chip on my shoulder over my condition because it made me a target. Never thought about the fact that I'm lucky to live in a time where minor defects can be treated, and I can have a life as normal as anybody else's.

Damn.

Maybe my outlook on life has changed lately.

I chuckle to myself, leaning against the steering wheel.

Considering I'm playing chauffeur to my girlfriend's grandfather and fussing over mundane crap like my glasses instead of plotting how to catch and murder a billionaire, I'd say my outlook has changed a lot.

All credit goes to Talia Grey.

I won't say the last few months with her have been easy and effortless.

I'm still struggling with bad habits.

To remember to be open.

To give back the same trust she gives me every day.

It's a long goddamned process, unlearning the bullshit my abusive father and my brother's death beat into me. I'm learning how to be human again.

She holds my hands and guides me every step of the way with the patience of a saint.

No, maybe it hasn't been easy.

But in its own way, it's been perfect.

Just like her.

The way she lights up when I stop by the shop after I get off my shift.

The way she's just as happy to coax me to stay for dinner with her and Gerald as she is to let me spirit her away, whether it's back to my place or wandering off into the woods for the weekend to camp, sight see, and scare the animals with the racket we make when we really get going.

For her, every camping trip feels like she's seeing everything new.

I love her sense of wonder.

I love her .

Last weekend, it was a snap date night at the movies.

Our camping trip got rained out, early autumn squalls soaking the forest and sending us running back home early. Rather than give up and stay in, we headed over to Redhaven's tiny theatre and bought tickets for every showing until closing time.

That's when I found out my girl hides during horror movies, clinging to me and peeking past her fingers when the psycho starts swinging his knife.

She found out I doze off during documentaries.

The kids working at the theatre found out the easiest way to wake me up is by Talia kissing me, only for the seventeen-year-old usher to catch us making out and chase us out, laughing, so they could lock up.

You already know the rest of it.

We finished what we started in my bed.

Even the trip where we booked a little bed and breakfast in Greensboro had fresh surprises. I loved every damned minute.

Technically, it was a business trip for Talia. She was looking for a new supplier for a special type of red cedar, but there was no mistaking her pleasure in dragging me along to tour the lumberyard, chattering away about wood grain, cuts, and finishes.

Her love for the family craft shined through in every enthusiastic word and touch, even if most of it flew over my head.

I listened anyway, learning as much as I could.

If it matters to her, it's important to me.

Sure, I could pay a little more attention sometimes when I can't pry my eyes off her high-necked sweater—a staple of her wardrobe in the cooler months, along with turtlenecks—when I know what's underneath it.

Her addiction to saucy pink lingerie is now complemented by the roses I add to her skin, dragging my mouth over her and making her bloom so sweetly for me.

She is my garden.

I still burn, too, remembering how I marked her up the night before when we almost broke the B&B's bed, getting so sweaty we had to change the sheets before we could sleep.

She still blushes like it's the first time.

Especially every time I give her that look .

And I fucking love that, too, along with a million other things.

Now is not the best time to be thinking about the fact that I can't keep my mind off her legs, her peach of an ass. Fuck, that curve of her waist as it dips just below the full swell of her breasts, the way she always wears pastel-pink bras that turn her nipples into dark shadows of temptation—

A voice cuts in again.

The only man I'll ever share her with calls my name, his voice distant through the car window.

I glance up as Gerald Grey waves to a nurse through the glass doors of the clinic, then turns to stroll down the walk toward me. The man looks like he's aged backward ten years—spry, alert, energetic, his blue eyes calm and clear.

He hasn't had more than one or two spells where he slips into the past in the last few months.

It's made Talia so happy.

And anything that makes Talia happy makes me happy, too.

Gerald pulls the passenger door open and climbs into the Jeep. "Just you today, son?"

Son .

It always gives me pause when he calls me that.

I know it's a thing with older folks. They call any man younger than them son , but lately I've grown so fond of Gerald Grey it doesn't bother me.

I've never known a man who cares so much for his family. It's a new experience, and for him to offer that same kindness to me the way he does my Talia strikes deep.

It shakes me.

I'd never turn away from it, though.

Hell, I crave it.

Especially when Gerald shows me, in his own way, the kind of man I want to be as I make a new life with Talia.

While he buckles up, I smile.

"Just me today. Talia's still struggling with the Bridezilla job. I think she's on her twenty-seventh revision."

"Goddamn! They keep at it like that, there's no way the real work will start before the wedding." His eyes gleam. "You think she'll need some help?"

"I think she'll remind you that you're retired, argue with you out of obligation, and then gratefully accept another miracle from Gerald Grey," I point out dryly as I start the engine and head for the street.

"That still sits weird with me, Micah. Retired. " Gerald props his hand against his chin, elbow against the base of the window, and looks out with a smile. "Almost feels like a waste. Tally-girl put all that money into surgery for my hands, and now all I do is diddle around making things for fun."

"Talia wouldn't call it a waste. It makes her happy to see you working for your own pleasure. It makes her happy to see you happy."

"Yeah, that's her, all right. My Tally's always been a softie." His smile warms with fondness. "The girl always feels so much for other folks. I did the right thing, putting the shop in her hands, didn't I?"

"Absolutely," I answer. "She'll save your legacy and make you proud."

" Hey ." With a snort, Gerald lightly smacks my arm. His age-spotted fingers are bony and strong, free from the painful swelling that plagued them before. "Don't be talking like I'm gonna check out anytime soon. I'll be around to watch over her and my own damn legacy just fine—and to help her as long as she needs."

I grin. "I know, Gerald. You're too stubborn for much else."

"Mm-hmm." He eyes me sternly. "Remember that when y'all are locking that bedroom door every time you stay over."

For a second, I sputter.

Gerald just grins like the old smartass he is and turns his gaze right back out the window as we pull out onto the highway, driving into the sunset home.

I can't help how my mind lingers, though.

The dynamic that's evolved between the three of us is better than anything I imagined.

Something I want to make permanent.

As the mile markers tell us we're getting closer to Redhaven just as the sky descends into twilight, I clear my throat.

"There's something I need to ask you about," I say. "I thought we could talk about it now."

"Aw, hell." Gerald glances at me slowly, knowing as he smirks. "You don't need my permission, son."

"How did you—" I blink, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.

Gerald scoffs. "Hmph. You really wonder when you go and pay hundreds of thousands for treatment and then act surprised when I'm sharp as a tack?"

"That's not what I meant." Shit, I can feel my face turning red, and I never fucking blush, but this is serious . "Have I been that obvious?"

"Not at first," Gerald muses. He scratches at his stubbly chin. "But over the last few months, you've really grown into yourself. You're not so wooden anymore, son." He looks at me long and hard, then reaches over to squeeze my forearm. "Anyone can see how much you love my granddaughter—and how much she loves you. I'd be a fool to stand in the way of your happiness."

Amazing how a few words can make me grin like a madman.

"That's if she says yes," I point out, earning a rough laugh.

"What, you nervous?"

" Yes, " I throw back.

"Well, good," Gerald retorts. "Every woman needs to keep her man just a little stirred up. That's what my wife used to say."

I don't miss the break in his voice when he says my wife or the way his eyes mist up.

I glance over, watching him for a moment before returning my eyes to the road.

"You still miss her, don't you?"

"You never stop. Sometimes, I think my mind started slipping just because I was chasing her into the past, desperate to be with her again. I'll always miss my Lily." He sighs. "I still love her, too. That's something that will never die, even if I lose myself again."

"I know the feeling," I mutter, my chest tight as that resonates like mad.

It's an odd kinship, this unspeakable thing we both know.

I suddenly wonder if Janelle Bowden ever felt that with her asshole husband, and what it must have broken in her when she realized it was all a lie.

No, there's been no sign of Chief Bowden all these months. Raleigh PD concluded he must have drowned or bled out when he jumped in the water and crawled away, and they're just waiting for his remains to surface in the next year.

I have my doubts.

The pure evil looking out at me from the chief's face when he finally came unmasked doesn't die that easy.

There's a sixth sense like a blade running over my neck, telling me the day will come when we'll have to deal with this shit, and next time we'll finish the job.

Janelle's been soldiering on as best she can, but it's been torture, realizing the man she married, the man she loved, was a criminal stranger.

I hope like hell I'll never hurt Talia with any dark surprises, even if mine would never scratch Bowden's fuckery.

She's taught me how to be honest with her—and with myself.

It's a lesson I won't forget.

"Gerald?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"For what, son?" His wrinkled brow furrows.

I chuckle. "For being you."

Gerald's only answer is a thoughtful look and a slow smile.

Yeah.

He gets it.

We drive the rest of the way in happy silence, making our way home.

When we get back to Redhaven, I drop Gerald at the shop without going in just yet.

I have a few things to throw together first. I don't think Talia even realizes I'm outside. Through the window and half-open workshop door, I can just make her out, bowed over her drafting table and focused.

I wave Gerald off, waiting until I'm sure he's safely inside, then pull away to go do a little shopping.

It's well past sunset and I'm dirty and sweaty by the time I'm done.

I stop by my place, shower, change, pack a camping bag, and head back to the shop. The front lights are out and the door's locked, but there's still that telltale golden cone of light through the door, the lamp over Talia's desk shining off her autumn-fire hair.

I head to the side door and knock.

Gerald tromps down to let me in, already smirking. "So you're gonna do it tonight or what?"

"Shhh," I hiss as I step inside.

"She's not gonna hear you, son. She's in another world. Seems like somebody needs to give her a good reason to take a break."

"Yeah, I'm working on it." I take a deep breath. "Wish me luck."

"Fine, but you won't need it."

I hope like hell he's right as I duck into the workshop.

Talia looks so breathtaking it fucking hurts in the low light, like she just stepped right out of a fairy painting with her hair spilling out of its messy bun.

Still totally absorbed in her work, just like Gerald said.

I almost hate to interrupt her—only, she's got that crease between her brows that says she's been stressing, too.

As I walk in, Rolf perks up from his spot by her feet.

I've started leaving him with her during the day for company while I'm working. I think he might love her more than I do sometimes, and he's even becoming an unofficial Touch of Grey mascot. The customers adore him. He gets plenty of extra affection during the day with the way they all spoil him.

He'll be keeping Gerald company tonight, I hope.

"Hey, Shortcake." I clear my throat, stepping closer.

She doesn't even look up.

I laugh to myself.

When my woman's in the zone, she's fucking there.

I wait until she's not sketching anymore, lifting her stylus from her tablet before I touch her shoulder lightly. She jumps, blinking her wide blue eyes rapidly with a small gasp.

"Oh! Micah, when did you get here?"

"I've been and gone. Did you even notice your grandfather was back?"

"He is?" She cranes her head toward the stairs. "…oh. Whoops."

I lean over, peering at the delicate linework sketched on her tablet screen. "Project's making you that crazy, huh?"

"Ugh, you have no clue." She sighs. "I'm about to tell them to take their money and find someone else. Half the stuff she wants isn't even feasible, and if I try to tell her that she gets all snotty and I…." She stops and shakes her fists, the stylus twitching between her fingers. "I'm tempted to do what she wants and then ask the wedding photographer to send me the pictures when it all breaks and dumps her on her ass."

"Careful. Someone's getting my vindictive streak." I reach over and pry the stylus from her fingers, setting it aside. "Break time. You're taking the rest of the night off."

"But the deadline—"

"Will get even tighter if you work yourself to death." Catching her hands, I tug at her gently, coaxing her off her seat. "C'mon. Get your gear. We're going camping."

"On a weeknight?" Talia frowns, her pink lips pouting.

"Yes. One nice night under the stars so you can de-stress and start fresh in the morning."

She hesitates, but then smiles and squeezes my hands.

"Okay, deal. Give me five minutes."

"I'm timing you."

"You're so not ." Laughing, she bounces to her feet and leans in to kiss my cheek, giving me a whiff of that lovely vanilla scent mixed with the warmth of fresh sawdust. Then she's off, pattering up the stairs and leaving me alone with Rolf, who strains after her with a low whine.

"Whose dog are you anymore?" I kneel down to ruffle his fur, chuckling.

The enthusiastic lick to my cheek says he's still mine.

True to her word, Talia's back in five minutes.

As she comes tumbling down the stairs in her cute little pink flannel, I straighten and lightly slap Rolf's rump.

"Find Gerald, old man. Keep him company."

Talia gives me a puzzled look, adjusting the straps of her camping rucksack. "We're not taking Rolf?"

"Not tonight. Let the two old guys keep each other company." I hold my hand out to her.

She smiles.

She knows this isn't normal.

I can tell she wants to ask what's up my sleeve, when normally Rolf comes along almost everywhere. Still, even though she's bristling with curiosity, she seems to know better.

Talia takes my hand and follows me to the Jeep without question.

It's insane how well she knows me by now.

Press me about it, and I'll just tease her and draw out the suspense.

The inside of the Jeep feels warmer with her in it.

Hell, I feel warmer with her in the passenger seat.

We head for the roadside parking area where we usually leave the vehicle and move out on foot.

Couldn't have picked a better night. The sky is overflowing with stars.

The full moon, a silvery disc that shines down like a blessing, lights our way so clearly that we don't even need flashlights.

Hand in hand, we take the familiar paths branching into the woods and up the hills. The night glows, all pale moonlight shining off the foliage and branches, leaving Talia looking around with wide, glimmering eyes that take everything in with wonder.

And her wonder turns into genuine surprise when, after less than an hour of hiking, I take a small detour and lead her down a narrow trail.

Soon, we break into a clearing overlooking the town.

It's the same clearing where we stopped to take in Redhaven before, back when we were staking out the Jacobins.

That trip was where I started falling in love with her.

Later, over the photograph from this vantage, too.

Finding out she'd saved me as a damned vampire in her phone.

Laughing over so many messy ways we collided.

Sharing our stories, our fears, our dreams.

Discovering how thoughtful, how brave, how determined she is.

Maybe it's the small things.

Or maybe I've just decided I like the small things an awful lot.

Which is why, there's a thick plaid blanket laid across the grass and a wooden square serving as a table, already prepped with candles just waiting to be lit.

The insulated nylon bag next to it keeps the food inside warm—and thankfully safe from nosy animals until we showed up.

While Talia stares with bewildered delight, I pull away, dropping my backpack and then pulling out my lighter for the candles.

One by one, they illuminate the table, and what's resting in the middle.

"Micah, what is all of—"

When she sees it, she stops cold.

Talia goes completely still, staring down at the dark-grey velvet box in the center of the table, painted in flicking shadows by golden candlelight. I can't quite read the stunned expression on her face.

My heart starts pounding as she brings her hands to her mouth.

"Micah?" Her voice sounds muffled behind her fingers.

Damn.

Even though my nerves are about to snap like twigs, I smile.

"Thought we'd have a romantic dinner under the stars. We can still eat, even if you say no."

"I—you—" Her eyes fly from the box, to me, and back to the box again. "Are… are you really asking me to…?"

"I am. And I should do this right, or Gerald will skin me alive." Her shocked smile gives me courage. I dip down to retrieve the little box and sink down on one knee in front of her—my beautiful girl, my perfect light, my pink doe.

Yeah, I'm feeling cheesy as hell.

No, I don't give a damn as I pop the box open for her.

It's a delicate band in rose gold, set with a diamond twined in golden branches.

When I saw it in the store, I knew it was perfect, especially when she spends her life shaping wood into beautiful things.

Her eyes widen as she stares at the ring.

I clear my throat and get on with it. "Talia Grey, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"…ohGodwhere'smyinhaler…"

"Shit. Are you okay, I—"

" Yes !" Breathless and bursting into laughter, Talia flings herself at me, her bag falling away and thudding to the ground as she tumbles on her knees and throws herself into my arms.

I realize then she's not having an asthma attack.

She's just that excited .

"Yes, I'm fine. Yes, I'll marry you!"

"Jesus Christ, don't scare me like that." I'm grinning from ear to ear, though, and I hug her tight, clutching the ring against her back. "You just made me a very happy man, Miss Grey."

" Talia ," she insists playfully before bumping her nose to mine. Her eyes glisten. "And it won't be ‘Miss Grey' for much longer, will it?"

"Mrs. Ainsley," I say.

Heavy words.

She goes crimson, blushing so prettily.

"Soon," she whispers. "But kiss me like it's already true."

"Gladly," I growl, claiming her mouth.

My Talia.

My fiancée, who brought me out of the darkness and into the light.

My salvation, my everything, and soon to be my forever.