Nightfall (Devil's Night, #4)

by Penelope Douglas

I shook with silent sobs, looking at his beautiful face as tears streamed down my own. Damon had done all this without me. He was doing so well—without me. I should’ve been here when the kid was born. I should know Madden.

She hadn’t needed a boyfriend. She’d needed a friend, and I’d been selfish and arrogant and spoiled. I should’ve been whatever she needed, whenever she needed me. She didn’t owe me her heart just because I wanted it. If I’d cared, I would’ve been more patient.

“Um . . .” someone said, and I blinked, noticing the car had stopped. “Okay, wow. I . . . um . . . I’d love to watch this, actually,” Damon called out, “but Winter will consider it cheating if she’s not here, too. I’ll go ahead and walk home, and you fucking owe me, Will.”

lol

“I don’t need the Cove,” he said over the rain. “I need more memories with you.”

“I build with you now,” he whispered to me, the heat of his mouth on my lips. “We make Thunder Bay together, Em. I love you.”

“You came for me,” he said. Yes. Yes, I did. I didn’t need to search for an excuse. I knew why. “I couldn’t lose you anymore,” I told him,

I fucking loved Will Grayson. I wanted to eat every meal with him, have that damn Mission: Impossible marathon with him, and let him knock me up as soon and as much as he

“You and me against the world,” he whispered, picking up speed and going harder. “Always,” I said. And I held on as he slipped inside of me again and again, thrusting between my legs, both of us lost for the rest of the night in the warmth and frenzy of finally being together.

I mean, what the fuck? I just got her back, and fear was nipping at the corner of my brain, worried that she’d change her mind about marrying me if I couldn’t periodically remind her how hot I was.

Damon put his finger under her chin and pushed, forcing her to lift her eyes up. “Chin up,” he bit out. “And stop being a mouse. You’re my mother, for Christ’s sake.”

🥹

I trusted myself now. I wasn’t leaving, and I wasn’t hiding. Happy people don’t fear death, because there’s nothing more they want out of life than what they have right now. I smiled because I didn’t have any fear. Finally, I was free.

“I have to tell Will about that night,” I said. “I just wanted to warn you.” His back went rigid, and he didn’t turn to look at me, but he knew what I was talking about. I couldn’t keep the fact that I’d helped conceal a body from Will. Damon sighed. “I appreciate the heads-up. I’ll be waiting for the beating.” I laughed. “Just keep Winter close. He won’t hit you with a pregnant woman nearby.” He shook his head and kept walking. “He’ll just get her to hit me for him,” he grumbled.

“What?” Damon shouted from inside the room. We all stopped, looking at each other. “It’s a boy?” he blurted out. “Are you sure?” We leaned in, and I folded my lips between my teeth to contain the laughter. A baby cried, there was some shuffling, and then we heard Damon’s playful little growl. “Ugh, what am I going to do with you?” “Damon!” Winter growled. “I’m going to kill you. You better love him. You do, right?” There was a pause, and I met Alex’s wide eyes with my own. Drama . . . Damon and I ran the construction business together now, him building and me designing, so I’d gotten used to his . . . brand of humor. Finally, he answered. “Y–yeah,” he stuttered, not sounding convincing. “Yeah, of course, baby. But, like, are you sure there aren’t any more in there or something?” “Damon!”

lmfao this man’s unreal sometimes

“Are you ready?” He grabbed me and kissed me, laughing against my lips. “I am never not ready for anything with you.” And with the long, hard road it took to get us here, I’d never trusted any other words more. I kissed him, nothing clouding my happiness with him for another second ever again. This was always our story. We want what we want.

worth it.

the

four books ago, damon would be the last person you’d expect to saying smth like this