Page 148 of Painted Scars
Breakfast ended with a very happy Glitter Bomb, some spicy action, and a steamy shower follow-up. A little warmup before the main event I’ve planned.
“The mountains are beautiful this time of year.” I nod toward the window where morning sunlight spills across the ridgelines. “I want to show you some spots my dad, brother, and I went hiking and camping. I grew up in these woods.” My gaze pans the distant trails, familiar, worn, and wild that filled my childhood years.
“Only if we play a game of primal play.” She rinses the dishes and puts them in the drying rack.
I roll my head in her direction, anticipating some dark romance reference. “Do I want to know what that is?”
“You know.” She shrugs and scrubs a plate. “A little run and chase.”
I twist the towel in my hand, remembering everything she’s lived through. “Do you mean that as a joke?”
The smile on her face dies. “No. It’s a fantasy of mine.”
I drape the towel over my shoulder and close the distance, pulling her flush to me. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
Her eyes glint like she dares the world to test her again. “I’m choosing fantasy, not a cure. You know me, I’m a face-it-head-on kind of girl, King Daddy. Fear only wins if I let it. And I feel safe with you.”
My mouth lifts into a proud smile. She doesn’t run from what frightens her, she trains it into obedience. “You’re so fucking brave, Glitter Bomb.” I brush her chin with my thumb. “If at any stage you’re not ready, then tell me.”
“I will, Daddy.”
“Alright.” I cup her cheek, my fingers damp from the dishwater.
She leans in before I second-guess it. The kiss starts soft, a thank you, a promise, and a challenge all in one breath. Her hands hook my shirt, and she deepens it, the air between us humming with pure trust.
When we part, I rub her shoulder and say, “We’ll combine your play with a scenic and strategic hike.”
She groans, goes back to washing a coffee mug in the soapy water. “Of course, you have a plan.”
I smack her ass with the rolled-up towel. “We’ll place weapons, ammunition, and supplies in specific locations if we need to retreat from an ambush. It may be the difference between survival and death.”
She glances at the ceiling. “God, Hell Prince, can I please trade him in for a morally gray stalker? You know, the one who takes me on a romantic hike chases me through the woods, hunts me, catches me, and ravages my gorgeous curves against a tree?”
I whip her ass again, and she squeaks. “I’m not the kind of man that plays house and bakes cookies while the threat still breathes.”
Her eyes trail appreciatively down my body. “Shame. You look hot in my apron and make delicious pancakes.”
I roll the towel into a rope. “Just pancakes?”
She pretends to think, lips twitching with the start of a mischievous smile. I get her with another snap to the side of her thigh.
She shrieks and flicks a palmful of bubbles at me. “You’re incapable of chill. Can’t we have a few days off and relax like normal people?”
She needs this slice of normal to discourage her nervous system from bracing for war. Time to pretend the world isn’t sharpening knives with our names etched into them. Mornings like this filled with coffee and breakfast, her dog cradled in her lap, feeding him pieces of bacon. After everything she went through these last few days, she deserves the illusion of peace, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let down my guard.
Before I give her that, I need her to understand this can’t last. “We’re out of the city, but not out of the storm. We need to be ready if they come.”
My job used to be to protect her. Now we do it as a team, cutting off the new heads of the hydra.
She leans into me, warm, soft, and everything I didn’t think I’d get to keep. “You’re a buzz kill, Hell Daddy.” I want to erase the worry lines that haven’t faded.
I snuggle up behind her and wrap my arms around her. “Help me set this up, so you know where the landmines and weapons go, just in case, and then you can have as many baking days as you need.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head, then to her temple, savoring the way she melts and closes her eyes.
She smiles, and I hate that it’s not her sunshine one. “Fine. We execute your plan. Then you’re all mine. Naked and in my apron, baking me cookies, and feeding them to me.”
A fair exchange.
