Page 74 of Untamed

I hear her humming to herself, and it makes me smile.

A moment later she returns with a sandwich that looks like… a crime against humanity.

“What the hell is that?” I ask, eyeing the sandwich suspiciously.

“Peanut butter, pickles, and potato chips,” she says, smirking.

“That’s disgusting.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it,” she says, taking a bite and chewing dramatically.

I narrow my eyes, then snatch the sandwich from her hand, taking a bite. I glare at her as I chew, waiting for the inevitable horror to hit, but—damn it—it’s good. “Fine,” I mutter. “It’s… tolerable.”

“Admit it,” she says, grinning.

“Delicious,” I admit grudgingly, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

She grins wider, her expression finally relaxing, and we settle by the fire, toasting marshmallows and falling into an easy silence.

“So mobsters chill, too? Huh.”

“Call me a mobster again, little queen,” I warn her. “I fucking hate that.”

With a pout, she shakes her head at me. A crazy piece of hair flops in front of her eyes that she blows out impatiently. It’s the cutest damn thing. “You can call me little queen, but I can’t call you a pet name?”

A lazy grin spreads across my face. Goddamn, I love the way she makes me feel. “I didn’t say that.”

“Right,” she says, her arms crossed over her chest. “I can’t call youmobster,and I can’t call youBratva boy,so what else is there?”

“You could try daddy. Sir? My lord… hey!” Those little throw pillows on the couch are harder than they look. I palm one and toss it to the side before I reach for her. She almost gets out of mygrasp, but I catch her just in time and pin her to the couch. “We don’t hit people. We use gentle hands.”

The way she snorts with laughter is so fucking cute. “We? I think you have a double standard.”

I arrange her over my lap so she’s facing me, her green eyes sparkling like emeralds under the dim cabin light, her legs anchored on either side of me. I stifle a groan. I trace the underside of her jaw. “Behave yourself before I have to put you in the naughty spot.”

“Rodion,” she says, her voice halfway between a warning and a giggle. The sound of it makes my chest tighten in the best way. “A time-out?” she repeats, her voice laced with disbelief.

“Mm-hmm.” I brush my nose against hers, my smirk growing. “We’ll sit down together, and I’ll explain why your behavior wasn’t acceptable. We can talk about your feelings. It’s all about redirection these days, isn’t it?”

She stares at me, biting her lip to keep from laughing. “Oh, this is rich. You, the poster child for violence as a first response, lecturing me about gentle parenting.”

“Do you need me to reframe your choices?” I tease, tilting my head. “Offer you some age-appropriate alternatives?”

She arches a brow. “By all means, show me the light. I must’ve been mistaken because, for some reason, I thought consequences you’d mete out would involve ropes, a dark room, and some Russian curse words.”

I tug a lock of her hair.

“You’ve been paying attention. But not swearing. Only praise, little queen. I’m a firm believer in positive reinforcement.”

Her laughter is bright and genuine. “So did you learn your methods from your parents?”

I blow out a half laugh, half groan. “Uh, no. My older brother was my guardian after my parents died, and he’s a loyal, devoted, but old-fashioned dick sometimes. Drill sergeant? Rules with an iron fist. Did I miss any clichés?” I grimace. “His motto waspain builds character.”

A grimace flits across her features. “Your parents died, and your brother became guardian?”

I nod. “Yeah. I was still a kid, so…”

Her eyes on me, she smiles as her hand covers mine. “And even though he was hard on you, you love him?”

---