Kissing Heaven: A Fae Fated Mates Romance Read online

  Kissing Heaven

  A Fae Fated Mates Romance

  Lacy Kennedy

  Copyright © 2021 by Lacy Kennedy

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  About me

  Read my other books

  Listen to my audiobooks

  1

  Wilder Smith hobbled around his garden, a heavy crutch supporting him, ignoring the pain. He held a large bag of sliced fruit and another bag that held a slurry of molasses, beer, and brown sugar. Grumbling, he made his way slowly to the end of the vegetable garden, where he grew a wide variety of flowers. It was a big backyard and seemed even bigger with his problems walking.

  Gone were the days of being able to stride out into his garden, tend to the only life he would ever father, and enjoy nature. A disastrous wreck involving a drunk driver not seeing him on his motorcycle left him crippled for life, but he persisted in doing everything he did before with a stubborn resolve. Squirrels, rabbits, deer, frogs, and the lovely butterflies depended on him. He wouldn’t let them down.

  His dog, Rocky, toddled after him. Rocky was a gift from his mother, so he wouldn’t be lonely, and the creature was a sensitive, sweet dog. He could be bullheaded, but who in his family wasn’t? The important thing was, he had someone who was always happy to see him and cuddled up to him constantly.

  Every few days, Wilder set out fruit and slurry around it in the middle of a once beautifully maintained fairy garden. He built the little homes himself and liked to imagine fairies really lived in them. His yard was always full of colorful butterflies and the vegetable garden flourished, which was a good thing, because he hated bothering his mother to go into town to shop for groceries. Wilder made do with what he had out of sheer stubbornness.

  The wreck left him with a massive insurance settlement, which did him little good when he couldn’t walk normally. Wilder would have traded it all away to stand tall, walk, run, ride his motorcycle again, and stop hurting. The pain was constant, and he nursed it away with alcohol over medication. A little here, a little there. He was constantly buzzed, but able to take care of work.

  The only good thing about the accident was that now he could pursue his dreams as a writer. Nobody would nag him about getting a real job or if he had finished his book yet.

  Wilder was free to live as he wanted for the rest of his life, and right now, the only thing that gave his life meaning was feeding the butterflies. Stupid little bits of color, floating here and there, following him as though they knew he was bringing them a treat. He loved them so much. They brought a rare smile to his face.

  The pedestals, repurposed fine china plates with beautiful decorations, Wilder set out to feed the butterflies on were cleaned earlier and the insects were already gathering around the edges, flapping their wings and floating up, then drifting to another one. There were so many butterflies.

  With a heavy sigh, Wilder carefully began pouring the beer mixture onto each plate, then he put the fruit in the middle. Today there were sliced strawberries, oranges, and bananas in the mix. When he was done, he limped to a nearby iron bench to sit down and watch the butterflies swarm onto the fruit.

  “Ungrateful jerks,” grumbled Wilder, watching as the butterflies that were previously floating around him left to take their part of the offering. He sighed, settling back, stretching his long legs out in front of him. A gentle breeze rustled the nearby trees and the sound of the small waterfall he built for the more amphibious life and dragonflies rose above the silence. Rocky laid down at his feet, resting his head over one shoe with a sigh.

  The sky was clear, without a cloud in sight. It would be a good day, and in a few minutes, Wilder would gather himself up and hobble back to the house. He would pick up the notebook he was writing in and get started on a story he had in mind, inspired by the butterflies and the creatures in his garden. Some sort of nice little short story about fairies and sprites.

  Wilder blinked as a butterfly’s wings filled his view. He couldn’t identify the species, but the wings were a brilliant shade of blue that shimmered to purple as the light hit them. It wasn’t a butterfly. Gasping, Wilder laid completely still, his eyes narrowing on the form standing on his nose.

  The butterfly looked like a tiny human about five inches tall. She wore a dusky pink tunic, black leggings, and had a sword strapped around her waist. Her long auburn hair was wild, eyes gleaming amber, and he could see the dark makeup on her face and tips of her pointed ears. She was making faces at him, seemingly annoyed that he wasn’t paying attention to her.

  “I’ve had too much to drink, little butterfly,” groaned Wilder, remaining completely still, staring at her. This was the most fascinating hallucination, and he wanted to fix her form in his mind for his story.

  She kicked him on the nose.

  “Ouch!” Wilder wrinkled his nose. “Don’t do that.” This hallucination was affecting all his senses. The fairy heaved her shoulders and hopped off his nose, heading to the side of his head. He turned his head to follow her, and she glared at him, motioning for him to stop moving. She flew to the other side, and he felt her feet touch down near his ear.

  “I am not a butterfly.” Wilder blinked as the barely perceptible voice sounded in his ear. She was yelling, her voice higher pitched than it should have been. “My name is Tiana and we have a problem that we need your help with.”

  “A problem? What can I do for a fairy?” Wilder grumbled, remaining still and listening.

  “You’re a human. You can stop them from destroying my home, our home.” The fairy continued speaking slowly.

  “Oh,” sighed Wilder, closing his eyes. “You’re afraid of the building that’s going on nearby?”

  “Yes. They’ve already destroyed several colonies and everyone is evacuating here, because you’re kind enough to feed them.” Tiana continued. “My realm is not far from here. My people are afraid of your machines.”

  “They aren’t my machines,” snorted Wilder. “I own all the land that surrounds this house. There are red ribbons on the trees on my border. If your realm is inside the red ribbons, you are safe. I promise, Tiana.”

  “It is,” the fairy stated. “Why are you so kind?”

  “I’m not.” Wilder grumbled. “I’ve done awful, stupid things in my life and I’m paying for it now. The universe has a way of giving you back what you put into it. You reap what you sow and I’ve sown a lot of idiocy.”

  “But you think about things that are so far beneath you.” Tiana continued. Wilder closed his eyes, smiling slightly at the beautiful, firm voice. “Why?”

  “Butterflies are beautiful, God’s handiwork, and I figure I can help out a little here and there.” He mumbled, feeling sleepy. “They’re free, without worries, and I am the king of my garden, where I provide and c
are for all of my subjects. They don’t have to worry about anything, because I care about them that much.” Wilder chuckled, “I am the Wilder Smith. Fitting title for an idiot like me. That’s even my name, Wilder Smith.” He sighed and let sleep overtake him, still thinking he was drunk.

  Tiana frowned, looking at the human sadly. She folded her arms and pondered something. The human fairy dog looked up at her and winked. She smiled back and floated into the air, heading off into the trees.

  2

  Wilder fell asleep in his favorite recliner in the den, one of his mother’s colorful quilts draped over his legs. It was too much trouble to get to his bedroom, and the recliner was where he slept most of the time, anyway. A pile of notebooks sat on the nearby side table next to a half empty bottle of bourbon and an empty glass.

  After the incident with the hallucination in the fairy garden, Wilder tried not to drink anything, but the pains in his legs, hips, and back became overwhelming. One glass became two, then a third to get a good night’s sleep.

  “Crap! Why am I naked?” A female voice shrieked from Wilder’s kitchen, making him jump. He blinked up at the darkness, gathering his bearings. It was just a dream. A very weird dream. He sighed and closed his eyes, hearing Rocky’s nails on the kitchen tile.

  Wilder’s eyes popped open again at the sound of more swearing and creaking coming from the kitchen. Someone was in his house? He reached for his crutch, scowling. Crippled or not, he was going to confront whoever it was and beat them with his crutch.

  With a groan, Wilder swung himself upright, getting his crutch tangled in the quilt. He fought it for a moment, taking his gaze off the door to the hall.

  “Do not turn around.” A woman growled at him, her voice coming from the doorway. “I’m going to pick up that quilt at your feet until I can find something suitable to wear.”

  “You need to get out of my house, not stand there giving orders,” snapped Wilder, glancing over his shoulder. He almost fell over as a very naked young woman rushed up to him and grabbed for the quilt at his feet.

  “I said, don’t turn around!” She jerked the quilt and pulled the crutch out from under Wilder. He crashed to the floor in an excruciating pile of pain, crying out as he hit the hard wood.

  “Oh, no.” The woman pulled the quilt around her body and leaned over Wilder. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “But you did. Now kindly get out of my house before I beat you with my crutch!” Wilder snarled, jabbing at her with the crutch he still held in his hand. “Leave! Rocky!”

  The dog made a wuffing sound, sitting down next to the woman. She kneeled and laid a hand on Wilder’s leg.

  “Don’t touch me!” Wilder attempted to scoot away, swinging the crutch at her as hard as he could manage. She yelped as it hit her on the arm.

  “Knock it off! I will not hurt you. It’s me, Tiana.” She reached out again, holding her hand over Wilder’s leg. “Let me help you.”

  Wilder stared at her. His hallucinations were getting bigger. There was something wrong with his head. That was it. He was finally going crazy and if crazy was sending him a naked young woman, who was he to argue. Maybe this was one of those dreams. Wilder smiled slightly, if it was one of those dreams, this was going to be an amazing hallucination.

  “How are you going to help me?” Wilder asked through half-lidded eyes, his thoughts drifting in a less than pure direction. She wasn’t really there. This was all a dream.

  “First of all, don’t look at me like that,” snarled Tiana, reaching out to smack him lightly on the head with the heel of her hand. “What is wrong with you, Wilder Smith?”

  “You’re a dream. I’m dreaming.” He winced, falling back on the floor and relaxing. “I am dreaming.”

  “No, you’re not.” Tiana squeezed hard on Wilder’s leg just above the knee. His entire body spasmed uncontrollably with pain and he howled. “That’s terrible.”

  “No. Kidding.” Wilder trembled, trying to catch his breath. “Please, just leave me alone.” He wiped over his face, discreetly wiping away the tears. “Go away.”

  “Let me try this.” Tiana laid her hand up higher on his thigh. Wilder squirmed, not into whatever it was this dream wanted to do with him. She closed her eyes and her entire body took on a faint golden light. Wilder blinked and stared as warmth spread from her hand into his leg, easing the pain a little. “Ah, I know where it’s coming from. Try to roll over so I can get to your back.”

  Wilder sighed and shifted, the minor easing of his pain making him more willing to comply. Her warm hand left him, then he felt her lifting his shirt, pushing it up to expose his back. He winced, knowing what she would see.

  Tiana’s warm hand passed over the gnarled scarring that tore into his body from his hip to his lower back and around his waist. He closed his eyes, sighing, “Not pretty. I know. Not that it was nice looking to begin with.”

  “Your back was broken and the nerves were all messed up. That’s why you can’t walk without the crutch?” She pressed her fingers into the middle of his back, biting her lower lip. “It happened last winter, didn’t it? You were fine the previous Fall.”

  “Yeah.” Wilder looked at her over his shoulder for a moment, then laid his head down on his arm, resigned to letting the hallucination do whatever she wanted to. “I had a lot of complications. They told me I wouldn’t walk, but I proved them wrong,” he finished with a self-satisfied snort.

  “But you’re in a lot of pain.” Tiana pressed her fingers in harder and warmth flooded through Wilder, a very pleasant sensation that took away all of his pain and, for the first time in over a year, he felt normal. “I can only stop it for a short time, a few days.”

  Wilder’s eyes widened, and he rolled over, sitting up and marveling at his movement. He could move again and the first thing he did was cry out in glee and lunge at the angel kneeling near him. His arms wrapped around her tightly in a hug and he kissed her on the cheek, missing her mouth as she tried to squirm away. “Thank you!”

  He didn’t see the fist coming, catching him in the jaw so hard he saw stars and fell back. It wasn’t that kind of dream at all. Wilder groaned, rubbing his jaw and blinking at Tiana. She glared at him, her golden brown eyes smoldering at him in anger as she clutched the quilt back around her.

  “I’m sorry! You don’t understand!” Wilder lifted a hand toward her, realizing this wasn’t a dream more and more. Then he burst into tears, heaving at overwhelming relief and horror that he insulted her.

  “Look here, you do not touch me, Wilder Smith.” Tiana rose, glancing around the room. “Do you have anything I could wear?”

  “You’re not leaving?” Wilder stared at her, trying his hardest to stop the flow of unmanly tears. It had been a long, depressing year on top of a series of long, depressing decades. “I am really sorry. He pushed himself upright and got his feet under him. Wilder wobbled, then stood with a laugh. “I can stand upright!” He lifted his arms into the air, leaning back.

  “Don’t overdo it,” sighed Tiana. “I blocked the pain. It will last a few days. I want you to tell me if you start aching again and I’ll fix it. I am giving you one week of my time, Wilder Smith.”

  “Why?” Wilder lowered his arms and looked at her.

  “We’ll discuss that later. Now. Clothes?” Tiana kept the quilt pulled tight around her.

  “My room is down the hall on the right.” Wilder motioned. “Uh, if you’re staying, I would be more than happy to take you out in the morning to get something to wear.”

  “I would like that.” Tiana nodded with a slight smile, turning and leaving down the hall. Rocky bounced eagerly after her, leaving Wilder staring in wonder.

  The crutch was on the floor. Wilder squatted, stretching his legs. His knees both popped and there were other creaking noises. His physical therapists, before he quit going to them, insisted there was nothing wrong with his muscles. It was the nerves, just as Tiana said. Pain was his prison and now it was momentarily gone an
d there was a very beautiful woman in his house, in his room, putting on his clothes, who might or might not be a hallucination.

  Wilder fell back onto a nearby couch, staring at the door, waiting to see if Tiana would return or if it was just his dog.

  3

  Being a gentleman was difficult when an attractive woman walked into your living room wearing one of your t-shirts. Wilder couldn’t keep a straight face, trying not to stare. He could feel the blush burning over his entire body when Tiana returned in a long black t-shirt that might as well have been a dress on her. It fell to the middle of her thighs.

  “Much better,” she sighed, stepping through the door. “Do you have a bedroom I can sleep in, preferably with a door?”

  “Yes.” Wilder swallowed hard, getting up. “The guest room is made up for when my Mom visits.”

  “Oh, that delightful lady with the red hair? That’s your mother?” Tiana smiled, in a better mood now

  “Yes.” Wilder nodded in response. “I’m sorry,” he apologized again.

  “Has anyone ever told you, you have the most beautiful eyes?” Tiana stepped next to the door. “They are so incredibly blue.”

  Wilder blinked at the compliment, unsure how to respond.

  “Can you show me to your guest room?”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Wilder nervously walked past her, wringing his hands.

  “Don’t call me Ma’am,” groaned Tiana. “I’m not old enough to be a Ma’am.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply you were. It’s just a term of respect,” sighed Wilder, leading her down the hall. He was grateful and wanted to show her his gratitude, but seemed to be falling all over himself. “What do fairy men call you out of respect?”