Page 21 of Riot

“We’ll be back by then,” Riot says, smooth as silk, as if he didn’t just railroad me into this.

“Here’s an idea.” I smile sweetly, but irritation burns inside me that everyone thinks they know what I need. I don’t even know what I need. “Why don’tyouboth go for a walk, and I’ll stay home?”

My bad mood fizzles away as he gives me those sweet puppy dog eyes.Damn. I’m not superhuman. I can’t resist them.

“Come on, princess,” he murmurs, soft and coaxing. “Don’t make me go alone. Please?”

And now, it’s not a fair fight.How am I supposed to say no to that?

“Riot…”

“It’s just a little walk. Half an hour out of your day. Do it for me if you won’t do it for yourself.”

Defeated, I mutter, “Fine. I’ll get dressed.”

I don’t rush. I take my time feeding Seren, changing her, and pulling on my clothes.

Riot doesn’t utter a single complaint when I carry my daughter into the living room forty minutes later.

He’s sprawled on the sofa, his boots on the coffee table, his kutte rucked around his chest, and he’s alone.

He sits, scanning me as if looking for those wounds he knows are bleeding beneath the surface. I wish he wouldn’t look so closely.

“You ready?”

“No.” I’m being a brat, but if he’s going to make me do this, he doesn’t get sweet, pliable Ivy.

Riot’s brow flicks up, his lips tugging into a ghost of a smirk. “Come on. I’ve got her pram ready.”

I shift Seren in my arms when she squirms.Why is he pushing this?“You don’t have to take me out. We don’t need a babysitter, and we sure as hell don’t need a walk.”

My heart thuds two frantic beats as he steps into my space, swallowing the air that was filling my lungs.

“Is that what you think I’m doin’?”

Clear head, Ivy.I mentally shake myself.You’re annoyed, remember?

“Aren’t you?”

“No.” He’s so close, there’s barely a breath between us, and I wait for that rib-crushing fear to hit, but it doesn’t.

It never does with him.

“Then why? I’m sure you have better things to do.”

He dips his head, and my lungs stutter. “Vee, there’s nowhere I’d rather be—” He catches himself, his eyes narrowing as if he’s trying to figure out where the fuck that came from. He clears his throat, but his voice is rough and uncertain when he speaks again. “I know you don’t need a babysitter, but have you ever considered maybe I want company?”

My stomach tugs into frayed knots. I didn’t, but now that I look at him, I can see the faint smudges under his eyes and the weary set of his shoulders. Guilt gnaws at my gut. I’ve been so wrapped up in myself, I didn’t stop to look around.

Before I can ask if he’s okay, he straightens and says, “Now, stop bitchin’ and get movin’.”

My jaw clamps together—ass—but when he steps away, my body urges me to follow like a desperate little kitten.

Neither of us speaks as we bundle Seren into the pram and head out onto the street. The air is cold but not biting. It fills my lungs, whispers over my cheeks, and calms my brain. Those knots in my shoulders loosen as I let the world pass around me.

Young kids run around the grass as we move through the gates and into the park. Dog walkers weave their way around the paths while a handful of girls are kicking a football around.

Stares follow us as we walk, their eyes drawn to Riot’s kutte, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

---