“Oh good! I can make you an omelet,” I said.
“No, gods. Please don’t.”
I made a fake shocked sound. “I’m getting good at omelets.”
“Delaney, I love you. But I do not love you for your cooking.”
“That’s it,” I declared. “The wedding is off! I don’t even know who you are any more. Stop the truck. I’m walking home.”
He slowed the truck, but hit the automatic locks so I couldn’t get out.
“Hey, I already thwarted one kidnapping today. Don’t get any bright ideas, Bub.”
I was grinning, but he wasn’t. He parked the truck on the shoulder of the road, threw on the hazard lights and reached for me.
“No. Not until you take back that cooking comment. How am I going to get better if you don’t show any support… Hey,” I said, catching the glisten in his eyes. Tears. He was crying. “Hey. Are you okay? Ryder?”
He unlatched his seatbelt and shifted so he could put both palms against my face. “Delaney,” he choked.
I fumbled with my seatbelt, blindly trying to get out of it so I could get closer to him.
He kissed me, softly at first, tasting slightly of chocolate. It was an apology, a wish that he had been there when I’d been hurt, so he could have somehow stopped it, which was, of course unlikely.
I kissed him back, loving him, letting him know I was alive and whole and well.
The kiss deepened, became more needful, sending heat licking beneath my skin, and for a moment, I lost myself, let go of the world, my worries, my mind.
I rode the soft sensations of his lips, his tongue, his hands, still cradling me as if I were breakable. As if I could be swept away by the smallest shifting of sand beneath our feet.
An eighteen-wheeler rushed past us, rocking our vehicle like the waves at sea.
Ryder finally pulled back. I licked my lips, chasing the taste of him, and reached over to run my fingertips along his jaw.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He drew a hand back through his thick hair. “I thought you were going to be wedding dress shopping. Safe. Making a memory with your sisters and aunt. I thought…I thought everything was okay. I thought you were okay.”
“Everything is okay. I am okay. I did make memories. Good memories. It was wonderful. Just because a demon throws some randos at me doesn’t change that.”
He narrowed his eyes. “I hate I wasn’t with you. I hate I wasn’t even in town.”
“I know. But I’m tough. I know how to handle myself. That’s the perk of dating a gal who grew up around gods and monsters and knew, at a young age, she was going to get into upholding the law. I know how to fight. I’ve been taught by all sorts of people how to fight. I know how to keep myself safe.”
“I don’t like it.”
“What part of it?”
“All of it. It’s our wedding soon, Delaney. In two weeks. We shouldn’t have to be worrying about demon attacks.”
“Sure, but it’s better to know something is coming our way than to be blindsided. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the gods are keeping a very close eye on me right now.”
“Is that why Frigg and Hera insisted on going dress shopping with you?”
“Mostly. I mean, I think they like me and liked being there, but at least a part of it—Frigg driving me home—was to keep me safe.”
He rubbed at his lips. “I don’t hate that.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t love it, but the gods are aware of what’s going on. I think stealing their weapons was a pretty genius move on Goap’s part. It showed the gods they were vulnerable, and it showed them demons are willing to exploit those vulnerabilities.
