Radha set a huge pan topped with foil on the butcher block. “Marinated, ready for the grill.”

“Get it out of here.”

Radha opened the door onto the porch. “I need muscles!”

Khan popped into the opening.

She pointed at the pan. “Make sure this gets to the grill. Don’t let that foil slip. I don’t want flies or dirt in the meat.”

Khan strode to the counter, hefted the pan and paused to bow over it as he locked his gaze with Radha’s. “Your wish, as ever, is my command.”

Radha rolled her eyes even as her cheeks blushed a fiery red. When he was gone, she glanced at Bryn. “I think all that jinn eagerness to fulfill my wishes is getting to me.”

Bryn didn’t have time to spare a laugh. “Ladies, gather the salads. We’re late.”

Darcy stacked three dishes and leaned them against her chest, but the moment she stepped onto the porch, the dishes were lifted away. “Hey,” she called after yet another tall, handsome demon. She glanced back at Bryn, her frown easing as a wicked smile curved her mouth. “It’s a little unnerving how they wait around every corner to lend a hand.”

Miren snorted. “It’s because they want to slip their hands under our clothes.”

“No harm in that,” Darcy said, stepping down the stairs. “So long as there’s no echoing goin’ on.” She waggled her eyebrows and sauntered toward the cars.

Miren glanced at Bryn. “Her dance card is full. A different date every night, and sometimes more than one at a time.” Miren shook her head. “She’s asking for trouble.”

Bryn only smiled. “Well, if it’s trouble she wants, let her enjoy it.”

The barbeque beside the river was a huge success. Children ran across the newly completed bridge. Parents tried to keep them from crawling on the girders, but it was too new, too impressive not to be the focal point of everyone’s attention.

“You did yourself proud,” Bryn said, leaning back against Ethan’s chest.

The bridge was a swing bridge, one that moved to the side to allow tall watercraft to pass, something Miren was very appreciative of. If the bridge had been fixed, some of her trawlers would have had to take a longer route through the canals to reach Barataria Bay. And during storms, when the waters rose, the bridge could be moved out of the way of floating debris, making it less likely to ever be swept away again.

“Not still worried that the outside world might find you?”

“I have you. Why should I be worried?”

He moved his hand down to her belly and flattened his palm against the almost imperceptible bump. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous. Trolls thinking…”

He chuckled. They were both well past taking any affront. Troll and witch were true terms of endearment. “I’ve been thinking, we should marry.”

She angled her head to look up into his face. “We’re already bound. Why do we need a human ceremony?”

“Our child will be going to school with human children here in Bonne Nuit.”

Bryn snorted. “Bonne Nuit doesn’t have a school. It’s not big enough.”

“It will be.” He turned her and looped his arms around the small of her back. “The town’s about to experience a boom.”

“One child is not a boom.”

“Vindlér Construction is moving its headquarters here. That means more houses, more families…”

Her eyes widened. “But you talked about commuting.”

“I don’t like the thought of working so far away. And the rest of the men like it here. We’ve set our sights on a certain plot of land.”

Her eyebrows rose. “The clearing?” The plain was the only place large enough to hold it. “What about our oak?”

“It stays. We won’t encroach too closely. You’ll still be able to dance in the moonlight.”

She smoothed her hands up his chest and around the back of his neck to touch his hair. She dragged her fingertips through it. “You’d do that for us?”

“If you’d like that. If you don’t think we’ll change what this place is to you.”

She lifted on her tiptoes and kissed his mouth. “We’ve talked. All the women were worried about the men drifting away. We didn’t know our isolation was so lonely until you came. I know they’ll be happy. You make us feel safe.”

He held her gaze for a long moment and then nodded. “I’ll make it happen. And you’ll all have a say in how this works. You and your sisters are the center of life here in Bonne Nuit. There’s not a soul, demon or human, who doesn’t know that.” He cleared his throat. “So back to the subject. We should marry.”

Bryn pursed her lips as she considered. “I’ll want Father Guidry to perform the ceremony. He’s a good friend.”

Ethan wrinkled his nose. “A demon marrying in a church?”

Bryn laughed. “It’s too small. But a troll marrying on a bridge—it would be fitting, don’t you think?”

His smile stretched. And as always when she watched him, her heart sped up, happiness and love filling her until she felt a little tearful. Maybe her weepiness was due to the baby. But she’d been truly blessed.

A man in her bed every night to share her troubles and the moonlight. A beast of a lover.

His hand entered her vision with a small velvet box in the center of his palm.

Her heart was so full it nearly burst. “Better not be a diamond,” she muttered. “They’re cold.” She flipped up the lid. A deep, grassy-green emerald set in warm gold winked in the sunlight.

Ethan grinned as she squealed with delight and launched herself at his chest. He lifted her off the ground and twirled with her, laughing. When he set her down, he glanced at Renner, who gave him a thumbs up.

At the sound of Bryn’s joy, the women came running, crowding closely to see the ring. Ethan kept his arm around her, watching over their bent heads, his chest expanding with pride and love. He’d gotten it right. For a troll who’d been born with few opportunities, he’d managed to get a lot right.

He wasn’t fool enough to think that he and his band of outcasts had seen the last of trouble, but for now, they’d keep watch, keep the women safe and continue to build on the promise of the Beaux Rêve coven. A sweet dream indeed.

Until recently, award-winning erotica and romance author Delilah Devlin lived in South Texas at the intersection of two dry creeks, surrounded by sexy cowboys in Wranglers. These days, she’s missing the wide-open skies and starry nights but loving her dark forest in Central Arkansas, with its eccentric characters and isolation—the better to feed her hungry muse! For Delilah, the greatest sin is driving between the lines, because it’s comfortable and safe. Her personal journey has taken her through one war and many countries, cultures, jobs and relationships to bring her to the place where she is now—writing sexy adventures that hold more than a kernel of autobiography and often share a common thread of self-discovery and transformation.

To learn more about Delilah Devlin, please visit www.delilahdevlin.com. Send an email to delilah@delilahdevlin.com or join her Yahoo! group to enter in the fun with other readers as well as Delilah: DelilahsDiary@yahoogroups.com.