Page 65 of Thunder with a Chance of Lovestruck

“I am,” he said. “Tell me you’re happy. That you feel as connected to me as I do to you.”

“Drest, the Nightshade won’t stand for this. For you and me being married, erm, mated, whatever it is they call it.”

“Either works, though mating does imply there are no takebacks,” he said. “No divorce.”

“I’m going to vomit,” I said, moving to get out of bed.

Drest chuckled and dragged me back to him, pulling me down and holding me. “Hon, you’re panicking. We’ll figure out how to deal with them.”

“What about my brother?” I asked. “Robin has been hard enough for him to accept.”

As I said Robin’s name, I wanted it back.

Drest’s jaw clenched. “As much as I want to punch thatpuck-hole right in the face, I need you to understand he’ll accept this. Accept us. That we’re mated.”

I teared up. “I’m a terrible person.”

“Shh, no,” he said, pressing a finger to my lips. “You answered the call of destiny, hon. We both did. Fate selected us for each other, and I’m damn happy it did. I love you.”

A lone tear escaped. “This should be a beautiful moment between us, and I’m crying because I know this would hurt another man. Regardless of what you think of him, he’s a good man. He trusted me, and I broke that trust with this—with you.”

He sighed. “Rachael, you’ve been dating him since the trial?”

I hesitated but nodded.

“And you had plans to move away with him?” asked Drest, no anger in his voice.

I nodded again.

“Then I’m assuming he told you the truth about himself,” said Drest.

“What truth?” I asked before wiping my cheek. “That he knows about the supernatural? Yes, he told me he’s well-versed with it all.”

“Did he explain why it is he’s so well-versed?” asked Drest.

My gaze narrowed. “No, but you’re going to tell me if you don’t want me to push you out of this bed.”

“Hon, Goodfellow is Fae,” stated Drest. “Fully. He’s not a Nightshade Fae though. His clan is different. And that’s for him to disclose, not me.”

My mind raced as I tried to grasp it all. I grunted. “Robin Goodfellow… all the rudepuck-off-like comments you’ve made. He’s the Robin Goodfellow? He’s Puck?”

“He’s had a lot of names in his life,” said Drest. “But yes, hon, he is.”

“Why wouldn’t he tell me that?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, pushing me gently onto my back as he eased over me. Drest kissed my lips and then my neck. He looked up at me. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore. It’s our wedding night, Rachael. Can we maybe just make this about us?”

I touched his scruffy jawline. “How are we going to handle this? Henry? The Nightshade?”

“It’s all a problem for another day,” he said. “We have a week together. Let’s make the most of it.”

“A week?” I asked.

He grinned. “I took vacation time, and you said Henry was going to be gone for the week. I was thinking you and I could take Astria to the zoo and places she might like. It will give us time together.”

I pulled on him, forcing him to move up the length of me fully. I held his face. “Detective Drest Bright, I’m trusting you with my heart. If you rip it out again, the next body part hanging in his house will be your head and it will have been done by me with bare hands.”

He laughed. “I understand.”

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