No Gentle Giant (A Small Town Romance)

For a moment I close my eyes, overwhelmed.

I didn’t just find love in Heart’s Edge.

I found friends. I found a new brother. I found family.

I found my place.

With a barking laugh, I catch Felicity’s hand.

The two of us sprint to the carriage, and I hoist her up inside before following, dropping down into the plush seats. Holt slams the door on us with another devil’s grin and a wink, and then we’re off, rolling through the streets.

Dozens of guests trail in our wake, calling out to us with all their hearts, almost demanding that we be happy.

I watch them till I can’t see them anymore, never letting go of my wife’s hand, throbbing from head to toe with want.

I’m gonna need that honeymoon damned soon.

“That was some send-off,” I growl, and she laughs, tucking her head against my shoulder.

“Sure was,” she murmurs. “I think this is the first time in my life I believe they’ll welcome us back just as happily.”

“They will. Places like this are rare, and I’m glad as hell we call it home.”

Belize by night, viewed from a plane window, has to be one of the prettiest sights I’ve ever seen—and I’ve been all over the world.

There’s something mystical about the sight of Ambergris Caye.

The water shimmers dark blue with night, dotted with the soft golden lights of secluded vacation spots. Just makes it all the more gorgeous with my woman at my side, dozing in her seat and tucked against my arm.

If anybody asked, I couldn’t say why I chose Ambergris Caye for our honeymoon. It’s one more place on my bucket list, and the instant I described it to Fliss, she was in.

Now, picturing what the brilliant blue-green waters look like by day, lapping and jeweled against stunning white sand beaches, I’ve got a pretty good idea why I picked this place.

I’m hit with Glass Lake memories.

Of the moment when I witnessed Felicity as this mermaid made for sin, waiting to slip away from me and into those translucent waters forever.

I’d thought then how easy it was to lose her.

I hadn’t realized at the time just how easy it would be to love her.

Now, she’s here.

She’s mine.

And no glassy waters can rob her away from me. They can’t draw her off into that shadowy remote place she used to retreat to whenever she tried to isolate herself with her woes.

I feel the shift around me when we descend, the plane vibrating and the engine whine changing to a shrill grumble.

“Fliss, wake up. We’re here.” I gently shake her arm.

Her eyes flutter open slowly. She sleeps like a cat, and it warms me to see her so relaxed, so trusting, when it used to be the only time she got deep sleep was when she collapsed from sheer exhaustion.

She yawns herself to life, looking at me with a groggy “Nnh?”

Only for her eyes to light up, widening as she leans past me, looking out the oval window with a gasp.

“Oh my God,” she whispers. “Paxton...it’s like the sky fell into the ocean, and the stars are still burning.”

“Yep. Hell of a way to describe it,” I say, my heart throbbing as I take in her face. “It’s just like that.”

She never peels her eyes off the view as we land, and who can blame her?

Truth be told, my own gaze is too caught up in an angel to stay glued to heaven.

I’ll have to take some photos for Eli later as promised. He’ll never forgive me if I don’t.

For now, I only have eyes for Felicity.

I’m forced to look away for a short while as the plane taxis in and we disembark, gathering our luggage with the help of a friendly porter who shows us where to snag a car to take us to our hotel.

We’re quiet the entire time, clinging to each other’s hands, leaning close.

It’s like we’re still caught up in the wonder of our wedding, and now with this whole week all to ourselves, there’s nothing to do but drown in each other and this perfect celebration of our love.

As our cab pulls up to the hotel, Fliss breaks the silence, her eyes widening once more at the lights glimmering inside. About a dozen candle-flickers greet us from their lanterns.

“Alaska, this is too much. It’s too beautiful.”

“It’s what you deserve,” I tell her, taking her hand.

No lie, the hotel looks immaculate.

There’s a main service building in elegant bamboo wood. The suites are designer tiki huts floating on the water, their construction partially submerged with glowing glass-walled underwater rooms, each one perched at the end of its own dedicated pier and lit with more ivory candles.

It’s a living frigging dream.

Of course, it’s Fliss who makes that dream real.

We float through check-in, and the hotel staff show us to our cabin, lets us in, and drops our luggage with a reminder that we can call for anything, any time of day or night.