Damn it. She was getting him off the point. The last thing he needed right now was her looking cute. Cute was distracting, and he was not going to be distracted.
Stalking to her, he took her by the arm and all but dragged her to the snow- covered grass on the far side of her car. His grip was firm and uncompromising, the way it had always been when she pushed him too far. But he made sure it wasn’t too tight.
Staring down at her feet, he ground out, “Where are your snow boots?”
She was wearing a pair of thin, uselessgreen canvas sneakers. Already, the moisture of the snow soaked through the fabric. They were shoes that belonged on a summer sidewalk, not a winter road.
“Oh, I don’t have any yet.”
“You were on a Society compound in western Wyoming, and you don’t have snowboots?” The words came out sharper than intended, but he was past caring.
She scrunched her face as ifhewere the one not making sense. “Well, I had boots in Wyoming. But it wasn’t snowing when I left, so I forgot to bring them.”
Why did that make sense to him? Because that was Bliss Logic 101.
She needed someone who would look after her. Someone who would think ahead and plan for all the possibilities.
Someone like me.
No. Not him.
Anyone could print out a packing list from the internet. She was a mother now. She had to be able to think of these things. Three babies depended on her now.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out through his nose. Slow. Controlled. The way he’d learned to breathe years ago.
When he opened his eyes, she blinded him with one of what he’d come to think of as her stadium light smiles. A smile bright enough to light up a football field and just as impossible to ignore.
Knowing he shouldn’t, he asked it anyway. “What are you smiling at?”
“You. You still do that thing.”
“What thing?”
“You know. That thing where you breathe in all the air in the room through your nose. You did that in Vegas all the time.”
He’d thought he was losing control again. The truth was, he’d never really had it in the first place. Not where Bliss was concerned.
“It tends to happen a lot more when I’m around you. Now stop avoiding my question.” When her lips parted, he held up his hand. “Do not ask me what question. You know perfectly well what question. Why were you sitting in the road, Trouble?”
At his use of her nickname, she flinched. Just the slightest twitch, but he caught it. He caught himself before he apologized. If she didn’t want to be called trouble, she shouldn’t cause it.
After a beat, she shrugged, making the bells on her shirt jingle. She sucked in a breath, grinning and bopping her shoulders up and down. The jingle bells did their job surprisingly well. They were like bright little chimes dancing through the cold air.
If they ended up together, he’d put bells on all her clothes. That way, he’d always know where she was. Always know when she was sneaking somewhere she shouldn’t.
Another growl rumbled in his throat. What did she do to him? He only made that sound around her.
“Trouble.” He knew he’d hit the perfect tone when she stepped back and put her hands behind her to cover her bottom.
Smart girl. At least some of her instincts were still intact.
Matching rose flags waved across her cheeks. She huffed out a sigh worthy of a teenager. “Fine. You want to know why I was sitting there? I was talking to Guacamole.”
His mind blinked, just like the television he’d watched at his grandmother’s house as a kid used to do. That old boxy set that used to flicker and pop when the signal went weird. He tried to decipher her code, but he was out of practice. Eleven months was a long time, and they’d only had a day and a half together.
Connor had been a Daddy for a long time. His Littles were always well-behaved and submissive. He knew from experience how submissive Bliss was, and his hand ached to work on the well-behaved part. All it would take was a firm hand, a few well-placed swats, and she’d remember exactly how to behave.
His brain rejected that notion as soon as the thought crossed his mind. He didn’t want to change her. She was fun and joyful, and if he was honest, a challenge he could see himself never getting tired of. The kind of challenge that kept a man alive.
