A Gorgeous Villain (St. Mary's Rebels 2)

Because at his voice, she laughs and squeals again, kicking her chubby legs at his chest and clapping, making him chuckle and kiss her forehead.

But the show’s not over yet.

The next part is my favorite part. Even though I always roll my eyes at it.

Halo raises her arm then, tugs on her hair barrette — this one’s white and shaped like a daisy — and gives it to him. Which he dutifully takes from her small hands. Before he sets her down on the island, her legs dangling off the edge, and combs her dark hair with his large, beautiful fingers, putting it back on.

She nods at him. Like this is such serious business, putting a hair barrette on, and he nods back like he agrees.

Like how Mommy did it before was wrong and only Daddy knows how to do it.

I’m about to roll my eyes at their cuteness when he looks up.

He smirks at me and I narrow my eyes at him, mouthing, I hate you.

Which only makes him chuckle and wink, meaning, No, you don’t.

Ugh.

No, I don’t. I can’t hate him. I’ve never been able to. And these days, he’s even more irresistible with how playful and amazing he is with Halo.

Who wants his attention back on her so she waves her hand in his face, tapping his jaw and addressing him in random syllables. He picks her back up and with a last heated look at me, he takes her into the living room like he always does.

He’s going to play with her for a bit, keep her occupied so I can work on dinner in peace. It’s a routine we came up with in the beginning of this whole parenting thing, which I think is working out great for the most part.

Before coming to me.

Which he does about thirty minutes later.

I feel an arm sliding around my waist and his hard body settling against my back. I close the tap where I was washing the lettuce for the salad. Wiping my hands, I raise my arm and caress his stubble, sagging against him.

It’s my turn now.

“Hi,” I whisper, smelling his delicious scent of woods and wildflowers.

Also cars.

Spicy and masculine and so freaking sexy.

Reed hums, rubbing his jaw in my hair as he takes a breath, his chest undulating against my spine. Like breathing my scent calms him. It calms me too.

Knowing that I give it to him.

“Did you bring it?” I whisper, talking about the puppy, burying my fingers in his thick stubble.

“Yeah.”

“Is it cute?”

A puff of air escapes him. “Fuck knows. Pete liked it though. He’ll bring it over tomorrow, at the party.”

I’m glad Pete’s here for Halo’s party.

After giving his garage to Reed, he took off for a while. He traveled to all the places he wanted to go because they reminded him of his late wife, Mimi.

When he came back, I told him he should take the glass house back and live here. Especially when this was a special place for him and his Mimi. But he said that this house was ours now, Reed’s and mine, because it brought us together.

And so it belongs to us.

I chuckle. “You know what, Roman?”

“What?”

“You’re a sucker.”

He flexes his arm around my belly before spinning me around and crowding me against the counter, his arms on both sides of my body, making a cage. “I’m a sucker.”

I tilt my neck up, my fingers clutching his sleeves at his biceps because there he is.

My predator.

The one with the glinting wolf eyes and the sparkling vampire skin.

The love of my life. My hero.

“Uh-huh,” I say. “For Halo.”

His eyes narrow. “And why’s that?”

“Because you got her a puppy.”

“And?”

“I don’t know if you know this, Roman, but you don’t have to give her everything she wants. You can say no to her.”

“Why would I say no to her when I want to give her everything she wants?”

He looks so outraged right now. Like the thought of not giving Halo something is offensive to him and it makes me chuckle.

It also makes me go up on my tiptoes to kiss his jaw. “That’s the very definition of a sucker actually.”

That’s when he grabs my braid, pulling my head back, making my breaths scatter. He even goes so far as to press his hard body against my soft one and sighing, I sink myself into his harsh places.

He shudders and I shiver. Something that happens every time we touch and align ourselves with each other after a long day.

Keeping a firm grip on me, he flicks his wolf eyes over my features. “You okay?”

God.

Sometimes I think he wants to kill me. That’s why he does this, doesn’t he?

That’s why even when he’s holding me captive like this, like he’s really a villain, he has to go all protective over me and ask me about my day. He has to melt me with his mean fingers and tender voice.