Page 123 of Hunted: Season Two

Between my word choice and the levity in my tone, she’s left completely defenseless. With an awkward grip on her shoes and small bag, she carefully climbs onto my back – hopefully not flashing the bustling crowd a pussy shot – winds her frame around mine and braces herself as I rise to my feet.

Navigating us out of the festival is not only easier than expected, it’s faster.

Guess people feel like we take up more room stacked like this.

We don’t.

But I won’t complain about an empty track, ya know?

“Okay, Rudolphbeingmy sleigh tonight,” Bunny sweetly teases, face falling into the space directly beside mine, “what is one thing you loved about Christmas as a kid?”

“Presents.”

Her snickers instantly swell my heart.

Have me clutching her smooth, bare legs tighter.

Blushing.

“Doing.” Tangling herself tighter to me occurs in tandem with her softening her tone. “What is one thing you loveddoingat Christmas when you were a kid?”

“Gonna guessopeningpresents is not the answer you’re looking for.”

“Correct.”

A few snickers slip into the cold night along our next couple of steps, yet I eventually answer, “Decorating gingerbread sleigh shaped cookies.”

“Sleighs because they were ‘Santa’s car’?”

I toss her a crooked grin over my shoulder. “Exactly.”

“You havealwaysbeen a gearhead.”

“From the minute I could curl my hands around a tiny steering wheel.”

And I get a feeling our son will be the same.

Or.

I should I sayhope.

Ihopehe is.

I mean if he’s not…I could teach him to be.

Then again…maybe him not being into cars wouldn’t be a bad thing?

He could teachmesomething?

We could learntogether?

Fuck, I hope it’s not something too out there like pickleball.

Building a court in our backyard could be fun but taking him to pickleball practice just feels…uncomfortable.

Like confusing a Porsche and a Corvette awkward.

“So…you like gingerbread,” she points out upon us entering the row of my parked car.

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