Page 122 of Hunted: Season Two

Should I askthemto marry me?

The song begins fading into another one, which is when Bunny motions for me to take off my headphones at the same time she removes hers. “Ready to go home?”

Yup.

I’m gonna have to ask her.

Hearing her say home right now – a word she’s said many times before – revs my heart in such a new way I can barely hear anything else.

Thinkabout anything other than having her be forever mine.

“Whenever you’re ready, baby.” I let the corners of my lips lovingly kick upward. “You’re Santa. I’m just carrying around your sack.”

The juvenile wink prompts Bunny to shake her head in a tickled nature yet play along. “Waiting for me to empty it, huh?” She hangs the object on their appropriate hook for the next guest encouraging me to do the same. “Like aKidon Christmas?”

“Your Kid on Christmas,” I flirtatiously state back with a small spank to her ass. “And every other day of the year too.”

Giggles precede her picking up her tiny purse and boots she shed to dance more comfortably; however, the pouty expression she displays towards the uncomfortable footwear when it comes time to slide them on leads me to lightly chuckling.

One eyebrow quirking is attached to the question. “Problem?”

“My feet hurt,” she girlishly whines.

“You want me to carry your sackandbe your sleigh?”

“Technically, the sleigh already carries the sack, so I guess, I really just want you to be my sleigh.”

An equally amused and impressed grunt is given alongside me lowering myself into position. “Hop on.”

“You wanna give me a piggyback ride?!”

I let my head tilt instantly in confusion. “What were you expecting? A toolbelt carry?”

Perplexity doesn’t hesitate to join her expression. “What the fuck is a toolbelt carry? Is that different than the bride carry?!”

“The toolbelt carry is where I lift you up by your ass in front of me.” My eyebrows pull together in curiosity. “Is that also called the bride carry?”

“The bride carry is where you like…swoop me up in your arms…like you’re gonna carry me over the threshold – aka the doorway if you missed that word on your vocab quiz – like we just got marriedhencethe name.”

And another sign from the car overlords that I really need to start looking at rings for them.

I wonder if she’s a diamond person.

Maybe something totally different?

Her birthstone?

Oh!

The stone for the month we met in?!

That would be romantic, right?

“Your wayseems better for a short distance,” is slowly spoken, “but my way seems better for the long assCircuit of Spa-Francorchampsshit we gotta complete.”

She doesn’t bother hiding a smirk. “That’s a NASCAR thing, isn’t it?”

“F1,” I casually correct while motioning her to get moving. “Now, come on. Hop to it, Rabbit.”

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