Page 52 of Rage's Heart

He tore open the package, demonstrating exactly what I meant—carefully separating the top chocolate layer from the bottom before popping one half in his mouth.

“It’s the proper way to eat them,” he insisted around a mouthful of chocolate. “And it makes them last longer.”

Man logic.

I shook my head, smiling at this ritual I knew so well. It was just one of his many quirks, like how he always slept on the left side of the bed, closest to the door, or the way he folded rather than hung his t-shirts, his habit of reading motorcycle magazines in the bathroom.

“There’s something else I wanted to ask you,” I said, suddenly feeling nervous.

He popped the other half of the Reese’s in his mouth, raising an eyebrow in question.

I took a deep breath. Rip it off like a Bandaid before you chicken out.

“Would you come to Sunday dinner at my mom’s house this weekend?”

His chewing slowed, and I could see him processing the request.

“I know it’s a big ask,” I hurried on. “But I’ve been dodging my mom’s call all week, and she’s going to hunt me down if I don’t talk to her soon. Plus, this way, I can tell them about us in person. If you’re not ready for that, I completely understand?—”

“Mac,” he cut me off, swallowing. “I’ll go.”

I blinked. “You will?”

“Yeah.“ He nodded, though he didn’t look thrilled. “If it’s important to you.”

Relief washed through me. “It is. Thank you.”

He shrugged like it was nothing, but we both knew it was a big deal considering I’d already filled him in about who my brother was and how he would no doubtably act.

“Just don’t expect me to dress up,” he warned, reaching for another peanut butter cup.

I laughed, the tension breaking. “No suit and tie. I promise.”

Diesel chose that moment to nudge against Rage’s leg, his tail wagging hopefully.

“Don’t even think about it,” Rage told him, holding the chocolate well out of reach. “This’ll kill you.”

The little brat let out a soft whine, sitting and offering his paw in a practiced move that worked most of the time.

“Nice try,” Rage snorted, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “Baby, grab him one of those treats from the cabinet.”

I smiled at the pair of them as I went to grab the chicken treats.

A few months ago, I never would have imagined I’d be living with the love of my life and his dog while planning family dinners and buying junk food as a love token.

As I reached for the dog treats, I caught Rage watching me, his expression soft in a way few people ever got to see.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head slightly. “Just thinking about how fucking lucky I am.”

Heat bloomed in my chest. He was always saying the sweetest things.

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”

Diesel barked impatiently, breaking the moment. I laughed, tossing him a treat which he caught mid-air.

“So, when should we get the rest of your stuff?” Rage asked, moving behind me to wrap his arms around my waist.

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