Page 114 of The Sasquatch and the Hairdresser

As we kiss, the crowd cheers again, but I’m focused on Skylar and this incredible moment that burns itself into my memory.

Once we finally pull apart and get off the stage, we’re met with congratulations from every person we see. I don’t know how long we receive well wishes from folks, but by the time the music starts, Skylar and I decide not to stick around for the battle of the bands. We head home together instead.

We hold hands while he carries my plaque for me, and I clutch my brand-new stuffed penguin that I can’t stop looking at. I already know this is going to be one of my most prized possessions. But I’ll probably need to hide it from our hellhound.

The journey from the park to the B&B is a blur.

When we step through the front door, we’re met by Elvira, who greets us with quiet enthusiasm. Angelica must have laid down the law about keeping the noise levels down.

Once we’ve both given our Little Ms. plenty of pets, we move into the living room and sit on the couch, where I pull Skylar into my arms and bask in the familiar smell of his leather jacket and him.

“Tonight was a massive surprise. I’m still trying not to pinch myself to make sure I’m awake.”

He strokes my back. “I promise it was real, and so well deserved.”

“I didn’t have the faintest idea you were planning anything.”

“Heh, I’m stealthy like that.”

I tickle his side and he pulls away, laughing. “Hey!”

“How did you make this all happen?” I ask, curious.

He shrugs. “I talked to Max first. To say he was enthusiastic about my idea is an understatement.”

That makes me laugh. “I don’t doubt it.”

“Anyway, once he said it was a great plan, I reached out to everyone else on the committee and they immediately agreed too. Now the award is going to be an annual thing given out at the festival, but you will always be the first and most famous recipient.”

I position the plaque in the center of a bookshelf in the living room. “It’s truly an honor. I’m so touched and humbled by this recognition.”

Skylar pulls me down to wrap his arms around my neck. “I wanted you to know how fucking amazing you are, not just to me, but to everyone in this town. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said you’re the heart and soul of Mystic Hollow, Hal. It’s the gods’ honest truth.”

My cheeks flush and I lower my eyes, shy all of a sudden. “No one’s ever done something like this for me before. Thank you.”

“I’ll never take your beautiful heart for granted,” Skylar says, his eyes locked on mine. “I know your acts of kindness aren’t for recognition. Your care and concern for others is as natural to you as breathing. I’ll be honest, I’m kinda envious. I find it harder to trust others, but you’re teaching me every day that others are worth caring about and helping.” He kisses me softly. “But you’ll always get the lion’s share of my attention and affection. That’s a promise.”

I fight to hold back tears. “The greatest reward I’ve ever gotten in this life is meeting and falling in love with you. I promise that you’ll always be the most important person in my life. My sweet, precious penguin.”

We kiss again but are interrupted by three hellhound heads letting out whining yawns.

I chuckle. “I think Elvira has spoken.” Then I dare to ask Skylar something I’ve been wanting to for quite a while. “Do you think you’d like to sleep with me tonight? Just cuddling and holding each other.”

Skylar searches my face and smiles softly. “That sounds real nice.”

We quietly head upstairs together, Elvira hot on our heels but still notably silent, and I have to wonder for real if Angelica has somehow managed to communicate with her about this. I’m sure Ryder would be fascinated by this question as well. Can hellhounds and hellcats speak to each other?

Inside my room, Elvira jumps up onto the bed and curls up in her usual spot at the foot of it. Skylar surveys my private sanctuary. It’s his first time in here, and I let him look his fill. Just having him here with me has me brimming with giddy delight.

He examines the many romance novels on my bookcase, the reading chair by the window, and the antique bureau I love that came with the house. He pauses there, studying something.

When he holds up an envelope with his name on it, I nearly trip over air.

“What’s this?” he asks, curiosity written all over his face.

“Th-that,” I stutter. “That’s a love letter I wrote. For you.”

He stares at me and his bottom lip trembles. “Of course you wrote me a fucking love letter. That’s so you, Hal.”