Page 47 of Heroes & Hitmen
“Damn,” I murmur, finally kicking off my boots and making my way over. “Is this what you get up to when I’m not around? Sugar binges and trashy romance novels?”
She turns a page with one slender finger, eyes still glued to her book. “Why would you assume it’s a trashy romance novel?”
“Isn’t it?” I tease.
Her silence says it all. I chuckle to myself as I flop down on the opposite end of the couch, popping the cap off my beer. Miley tucks her legs in to create more distance between us, a little crease of annoyance forming between her brows.
“Love what you’ve done with the place,” I remark, bringing the beer bottle to my lips and taking a swig.
“You’re home late,” she says, voice flat.
“Yeah, your dad put me to work on a protection detail. Had to tail one of his runners all over the damn city.”
She grunts in disapproval, flipping a page. “Kill anyone?”
“Not today,” I quip, taking another sip of beer and wiping my mouth. “But if you have a moral objection to my occupation, then by all means, take it up with your old man. Maybe you’ll have better luck than I did.”
Miley finally looks up from her book, pulling the lollipop from her mouth. “Meaning?” she asks, cocking a brow.
“I told him I wanted to take you to Colorado, but he shut it down. Said the only way to get out of my contract is if someone else from home takes my place, which isn’t happening. So… plan B. whatever the hell that is.”
“Wait,” she breathes, wrinkling her nose. “Who said I wanted to go to Colorado?”
I blink. “I didn’t think you’d have an objection, considering how limited our options are.”
She narrows her eyes. “And whose fault is that?”
“This again?” I sigh, kicking up a leg to rest on the coffee table. “You can’t stay mad at me forever, you know. And you’ve gotta admit, living with me has its perks.”
She snorts a laugh. “Name one.”
“I’m great at opening jars,” I reply, grinning. “Above average at back rubs. Ridiculously good company.”
“You forgot professional liar,” she amends.
“Gotta love a man with versatility, right?” I wink.
Miley rolls her eyes hard, shoving her lollipop back between her lips and dropping her gaze to her book again.
I chuckle to myself as I take another swig of beer, leaning back against the cushions and settling in to watch her read. She toys with the stem of her lollipop, swirling it around in her mouth, tongue flicking against the candy as her eyes move across the page. She has to know what that does to a guy, but she’s clearly intent on torturing me.
“So, what are you reading?” I murmur when I can’t take it anymore.
Miley huffs an annoyed sigh, closing the book with her thumb to mark the page and twisting it around to show me the cover. It must be some sort of highlander romance, judging by the picture of a half-naked guy in a kilt.
I arch a brow. “Does he have a name, or should I just call him your boyfriend?”
“You can call him better than you,” she replies sassily, re-opening the book and lowering it to her lap.
“In bed? Highly doubt that.” I lean forward to set my empty beer bottle on the coffee table, shifting a little closer, knuckles brushing her calf. “But if you want to put it to the test…”
“Ares,” she growls in warning.
“What?” I chuckle, letting my hand trail higher. “Let me take care of my mate.”
Her breath hitches as sparks bloom between our skin. “You’re not my mate,” she grumbles, kicking my hand away.
“Your pack thinks I am.”
