Page 103 of Meet Cute or Your Money Back

Six months ago, hell, even one week ago, I would have chalked my silence up to self-preservation. Tamping down emotions with a heavy boot and not letting them escape. But that tactic clearly doesn’t work. I thought I was protecting myself from getting hurt. Instead, it brought me more pain.

With Jenna, I thought letting go meant forgetting. That if I gave myself permission to move on, it was the same as giving myself permission to leave her memorybehind. Only now am I beginning to see it isn’t. That there’s room in this old ticker for more than just revenge and guilt.

The second Allie burst into my life with those big doe eyes of hers, she chipped away at the ice I worked so damn hard to form. My armor. My shield. My safeguard. Every wall I built to stop me from feeling was slowly dismantled by a tiny brunette with a God-complex about rescuing men in distress.

And now? Those walls are officially down. There’s nothing to hide behind. All the barricades, all the cover, the cold exterior—melted. Completely. And surprisingly, it doesn’t feel like frostbite or heartburn. I’m ready for whatever chaos comes my way next.

The nurse should be here soon, and when she is? She better have discharge papers for me because I can’t sit around waiting another second. Not now that I’ve had this clarity. Not now that I know it’s Allie I want. I have to see her. I need to see her. I might not have had a plan before, but I sure as hell do now. The next mission is one I have no intention of botching. It’s a success story waiting to happen.

The door creaks open, pulling me from my thoughts. At first, I think it’s a nurse, but then I hear the small, hesitant footsteps. My breath catches in my throat before I even turn my head.

“Duke?”

Duke’s cautious face appears, a miniature replica of my own expression—unsure, hesitant, and a little scared. He has one hand on the doorknob, the other cradling a blanket and dragging it behind him like he does when he comes into my bedroom in the middle of the night after a nightmare. His wide eyes dart over my bandaged arms andbruised face, his lower lip trembling, and my damn heart clenches.

“Hey, buddy,” I say, forcing a smile. “C’mere.”

I see the thoughts flitting through his head, like clouds across a summer sky. He’s probably trying to figure out how the hell his daddy ended up in such bad shape. “Come on in,” I coax, my voice softer than I thought I was capable of. “It’s okay, buddy.”

Griffin comes into view and gives Duke a little nudge. “Go on,” he encourages with a wink. “He doesn’t bite. He’s too old to have any teeth left.”

Duke steps in hesitantly, eyeing the machines with all the seriousness of a young recruit. Then, he’s suddenly in motion, running across the room with his arms open wide. The only casualties in this war are the donuts and bagels Griffin drops onto the counter as Duke barrels across the room and straight into my chest. My ribs scream out in protest, but I wrap my arms around him all the same, squeezing him close.

His small fingers ghost over the bruises on my arm before he finally whispers, “Does it hurt?”

I shake my head, brushing his wild curls back from his forehead. “Nah. Looks worse than it is.”

He scans my face, trying to make sense of it all, not quite believing me yet. But after a second, the crease of his brow lessens and his bottom lip goes back to a normal shape. He climbs up onto the bed beside me, resting his curly head on my chest, careful of my injuries.

His lips press together in a serious expression that’s far too old for a five-year-old. “Did the dragon attack you again?”

I blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“The dragon.” He glances over his shoulder like he’schecking to make sure no one else is listening. “I heard you talking about it with Uncle Griff and Uncle Hunter a couple years ago. How the dragon attacked Mommy.”

Realization crashes over me, leaving me breathless. All the times he’s made me play knights with him, the way he charges around the house with his toy sword, slaying invisible beasts. His obsession with protecting the castle. With fighting dragons.

Damn. He’s been listening. He’s been trying to understand in the only way his little mind can process.

A lump rises in my throat, but I swallow it down. I won’t let him see me shaken.

For years, I thought he didn’t know the name Drakon. My stomach tightens with the thought of how much this kid absorbs without me knowing.

We tried to protect him, but how could he not have pieced it all together? Of course he knew. He’s smarter than I give him credit for. I’m not the only Bryant with a tactical brain. He’s been preparing for this battle for years, but only now am I beginning to see it.

“The dragon tried,” I reply. “But we got him.”

He lifts his head, eyes wide and excited now. “We did?” He pauses, as if afraid to hope. “Does that mean…” I nod, feeling a strange warmth spread through me at his innocent joy.

“The dragon’s been slain,” I tell him firmly. “And the other bad guys? They’re locked in a tower for a long, long time.”

Duke studies me for a long moment, then a long breath escapes him and he grins. There’s nothing left to worry about. He doesn’t have to hide under blankets or sneak into my room at night to feel safe.

He grins and relaxes his head once more to my chest,whispering, “I told Uncle Hunter and Uncle Griff that you were the best dragon slayer ever.”

I close my eyes for a second, breathing him in. Warmth. Safety. A reminder of what truly matters. “I dunno about the best,” I tease back. “You seem pretty good yourself. I bet you’re going to slay more than me one day.”

He gives an earnest nod and the seriousness in his voice would be comical if he wasn’t my kid. “That’s what I want to be when I grow up.” When he speaks again, his voice is softer. “Daddy?”

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