Page 63 of Hunted, Season Three

“But that’s what I want.”

“That not what you want.You’re just pretendin’ to want itbecauseI don’t want you to have it.”She poorly hides her grin prompting him to sigh upon their arrival, “Kid, tell her she can’t have a fuckin’ Fiat.”

“You can’t have a Fiat,” leaves me without hesitation.

“Excuse you.”

“Maintenance is shitty, baby.More often than mostandmore expensive.”

“Baby?”the male who was hitting on me less than quietly questions.

“Bunny,” she sassily announces at the same time she flashes her left hand, “the fiancée.”

“Ah,” Mark does his best not to let his grin fade, “I didn’t realize he was engaged.”He kicks his chin towards Nolan before I can speak.“And you must be his dad?”

“That never gets old,” mirthfully murmurs our girl.

“No,” Nolan huffs, “I’m the one that put that ring on her fingerand his.”

“I didn’t see a ring,” informs the guy who should probably be exiting.

On that line, Nolan shifts his glare along with his attention to me.“You not wearin’ your ring?”

“I uh…” giving the back of my neck an uncomfortable scratch is absentmindedly executed, “I took it off for work.Forgot to put it back on.”

“You forgot to put it back on?!” growls one of the only people I’ve ever met that can be both sexy and angry simultaneously.

Fuck, I love when he gets like this.

I just prefer him to be mad at bills.

Or the computer.

Or the microwave.

Not me.

Never me.

“I’m…gonna…go,” Mark poorly points off in the distance behind him.“It was uh…nice to meet you, Kipp.”

The small wave I deliver acts as his exit and Nolan’s excuse to angle himself to block the fleeing gearhead from view.“How could you forget to put it back on?”

“We were already running late, and I didn’t wanna run any later, and all I was thinking about was rushing to get toyoubefore you got a call to be somewhere else, and it just slipped my mind in the process.”

“Why the fuck was it off to begin with, Kid?”

“It’s notidealwhen doin’ electrical shit, and somethin’ tells me that’s not what they were singin’ about in that old movie with the ’49 Mercury.”

Bunny shakes her head in obvious amusement.“Can’t remember the name of the movie isGreasebut easily remembers the fucking car.”

“He’s a gearhead, Rabbit.”Our fiancé casually balls up the edge of my shirt and yanks me towards them.“Of course that’s what he remembers.”

I do my best not to blush at his proud tone.

Possessive grip.

“And from now on, this gearhead better always rememberhis fuckin’ ring,” his dark glare holds my crystal one hostage.“We clear?”

---