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“That was good,” he says, walking over to me. His eyes are bright, face tinged red from the sun. Living out here suits him.

“It would be better if these animals learned how to listen.”

Gracie laughs. “Love you.”

Those words get to me, like always, but I refuse to return them. Until I catch the reprimanding look Sasha is sending my way.

“What?” I snap.

“Say it back. You know you want to.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

I hate that he knows me so well. Those words are reserved for Sasha, but when it comes to my cubs … I do love them. I wish I didn’t. They’re all awful at protecting themselves, and they’re a walking disaster—just like Sasha. I’m fucking doomed all around.

“Fine,” I push through my teeth, throwing a look their way. “Love you too.”

Sammy squeaks, and Grace throws herself at me. It takes all of my effort not to roll my eyes as the cubs smother me in a hug.

“Not one of you has made sure the area is clear,” I point out.

“We know you’re doing it for us,” JJ throws back.

I send an unimpressed look Sasha’s way, and he smiles innocently back. I might love his touches, and I might love my cubs, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready for a cuddle pile.

“Okay, okay.” I shrug them away. “Don’t milk it.”

“Oh, we will forever be milking that,” Josie says. “And we expect you to say it every day.”

“Guess you’ll all end up disappointed, then.”

Leo gives my leg another sneak attack hug before they all hurry off.

“Now look what you’ve done.”

Sasha wraps his fingers through mine. And of course, I let him because I have no backbone when it comes to the sweet little rabbit in front of me. “It’s okay to let people in.”

“Now you sound like my therapist.”

“We are both very smart people.”

“Not so smart if you keep encouraging people to touch me.”

The mild threat doesn’t even make him blink. He slides his machete into the holder at his waist, and I love the sight of it there. Rooney found one for him the exact same as mine, only smaller and lighter, and Sasha carries it with him everywhere.

I’ll get him his own kukri next, and then we really will be matching.

“I got you something,” he says, tugging me toward the house.

“What is it?” Last time he gave me a present, it was some overly sugar-filled sweet that I couldn’t get down.

“You’ll see.”

I follow Sasha into the house, braced for the type of gift I’m about to be given. “You know that you’re enough, right?” I ask. “I don’t need anything.”

“Aww, sometimes you really are too sweet.”