Dipping my chin, I kiss the tip of her nose. “I know.” Her eyelids. “You deserve the world.” Then, I brush my lips along her cheek.
“You’re my world, Mika. And you would literally buy me the world if I wanted it.”
“Do you want it?” I ask, seriousness etched in my tone.
I always thought buying her everything she glanced at would show her how invested I am.
“You can’t buy what I want.” She pouts. “You can only gift it to me.”
My fucking heart. That black hunk of junk that’s only purpose is to serve her already belongs to her.
“Go to bed,” she orders.
I pin her with a stare that only makes her giggle.
“You’re awake. I doubt I can sleep not knowing what you’re up to,” I groan, accepting my fate. A servant. For her.
She grins, revealing that’s the most fun part of her day. “Shooting.”
I swear, she loves to torture me.
“Calla is not here.” Because my dear sister is all for her learning to fight, defend, and shoot.
There’s no one safer than she is. The length I went to make sure something like that never happens again—from the tracking chip implanted in her arm, to my men who patrol the perimeter day and night and follow her every step. Dahlia might as well be the most protected person in the world.
“I know the basics. My aim still needs improvement.” She flops on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
I wiggle my brows at her, wishing to make her smile. “Why? Do you want to make sure you hit me when I drive you mad?”
A radiant smile lights up her face. “Don’t tempt me.”
“I still haven’t forgotten your stunt. For that alone, I should spank your ass red again.” The threat ringing in my hoarse voice only makes me burn hotter for her.
I thought I would have a heart attack when she had Calla shoot the necklace dangling from her hand.
Scooting on her ass, she tilts her head. “I wanted to make my stubborn brother see what was in his face.”
I find her hand on the mattress. “Don’t do that again.”
She latches her fingers around mine. “That’s because you trust no one. Not even your sister, who is the best freaking sniper.”
I arch a brow.
She shrugs. “But you’re the second best.”
This woman. I swear. I push her onto her back and attack her, my fingers tickling her everywhere.
“I’ll show you second best,” I grumble.
Her giggles and snorts fill my ears as she tries to evade my touch. Her body twitches, thrashing and kicking her feet in the air. “Mika,” she says through a fit of giggles. “No. No. No.”
She looks adorable, flushed and rocking with laughter. She’s so damn soft. Precious.
This carefree moment is so potent that it traps me in images of a bright future.
I cup my ear. “What was that?”
“I can take it back, but it would be a lie,” she pants, folding onto her side as if that’s an option to escape me.
