Page 108 of The Bronze Garza
One corner of his lips tips up. “Why seven?”
“Because seven symbolizes completion.”
“Hmm,” he hums in his throat, tilting his head to press a kiss to my neck, sending shivers through me. “Let me think about it.”
“You can’treallywant me to stop sitting up here if you have tothinkabout it,” I murmur on a quickening breath. “We can get started on it right now. Knock off a few more counts throughout the day. You’re on vacation after all.”
“Can’t,” he mumbles, trailing kisses along my shoulder. “You’re busy today.”
“I am?”
“Yeah. Lysandra called. She wants to spend the day with you.”
This has me frowning, even as his lips on my skin sparks flames inside me. “She calledyouand not me? Why?”
“Cause I’m your keeper.”
Well, heis, isn’t he?Hmm.“And she needed your permission?”
“Unlike you, she cares about your safety.” He lifts his head to meet my eyes. “She wanted to know if it’s safe.”
“Is it?”
“I’d rather you not be out in the open yet. But I’m aware your mother’s a butterfly, and I wouldn’t want you to miss out on the opportunity to spend time with her,” he says. “So I’ve made some arrangements; you won’t see my men, but they’ll be around.”
I blink at him. “Do you have my life bugged or something?”
“No.” He nips at my lip. “But if I’m gonna have you in myhome, having every bit of detail on you is a given. “
Why do I like it that he knows everything about me? It makes me feel owned by him. Andoh mando I want him to own me. I thrust up against him. “How long do I have? Can we sneak in something quick and count it as a half?”
At this, Torin laughs, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “I don’t do halves.” He takes my chin between two fingers and kisses me swiftly, giving me no time to reciprocate. As I moan in protest, he steps back and double slaps my thighs. “Go get ready. She’s already on the way.”
~
Mom’s funky VWcamper honks outside some ten minutes later. She’s had it my whole life, and despite being able to afford a Lamborghini, it’s the only thing she’s ever driven.
Grinning at it, I dart through the front gate and jump in, then fling my arms across the space and hug her as tight as I can. “Mommy!”
“Lysandra,” she corrects, hugging me back as best as she can with her seatbelt on.
Loosening my hold, I smack a big kiss on her cheek before I pull back to my seat and strap on my seatbelt.
She rolls her eyes at me and pulls off from the curb. “How have you been, baby?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Everything is just so...weird.”
“I can imagine.”
“It feels like I’m trapped inside a movie, if that makes sense,” I say. “Or like I’m living someone else’s life, you know? Like I’m a character in a book and none of this is really happening to me.”
Her sigh sounds pained but upsetting her wasn’t my intention. Mom’s the only person I can be open and honest with about any given thing. She’s not the emotional type, not reactive, and is ever calm no matter how grave or urgent a situation is.
As a result, where I hide and pretend with everyone else, with her, I’m completely honest. Because she makes it easy to be. But I guess, at the end of the day, I’m still her daughter—she wants me happy and carefree. Not caged and guarded.
“Ly, you know I love you, right?”
“You do? Dang, my mama loooves me.” I do a little jig in my seat. “Me’s so special. She loves me long time.”
