Page 66 of Oh No, My Kidnapper Is Hot!

“You can’t make me leave!” I stomp in front of him and glare down my nose and his stupid perfect face. “I want my friends and my family and my– my–” Oh, spit it out! “Myyou. And I don’t appreciate you trying to take it away from me! You made promises to me and you don’t get to break them. I’m not going to let you! We are buildingtrusthere and youare notgoing to screw it up on day one! I want my happily ever after, even if it is in Looneyville with a bunch of crazy criminals. I am getting my happy ending!” I swear, and Stryker blinks.

“You’re staying?” he asks.

“Whether you like it or not!” I tell him, hands on my hips. He bursts into loud laughter and grabs my wrists, tugging until I fall into him on the couch.

“You’re staying!” He beams. His hands move to cradle my face. “You called me yours.” He laughs again. “You’re staying.”

“You… want me to?” I ask, confused. His brows furrow.

“Of course,” he says. “Did you bump your head?” A note of alarm enters his voice. “You don’t remember last night?”

“I remember but… you said you wanted to talk.”

He blinks at me. I blink back.

“I wanted to talk with you about what today would look like and what you might need after last night. I thought I would take you to Rosie’s to give you some space to think for a couple of hours. You thought I was planning to kick you out?” He shakes his head in bewilderment and crushes me to him. “Millie, I married you. I told you I love you. Why would I do all that just to abandon you in themorning?”

Well, when he says it like that I feel a little silly.

I drop my gaze.

“Whoops,” I whisper. He pulls my head down until our noses touch.

“I love you, Millie. Today and everyday. I will always want you to stay.”

I sniff. Well then.

“Can we kiss now?” I ask. He laughs when he tells me no, and I pout.

“Fifteen more minutes, darlin’.”

“But I want to tell you I love you, and then I want to kiss you. It doesn’t work if there’s only one,” I complain. He rolls us, pinning me beneath him on the couch.

“Say that again,” he bosses.

“I don’t want to,” I tell him. “Maybe infifteenminutesI will.”

“Say it again,” he growls. Hmph. Yeah, right.

“Millie,say it againor so help me–”

“I love you.” I grumble. Yeesh. No need to get all threatening about it.

He falls on me, shoving his arms between my body and the couch to give me a lung squashing hug. This must be what bugs feel like when you step on them.

“You love me. You love me. You love me. You love me.” He’s stuck on repeat, muttering the words into my hair like an incantation.

My face is turning blue.

I pinch his side as hard as I can, and he lifts. Air! Sweet, sweet air!

He smiles down at me as I struggle.

“You love me,” he says.

“Not for long if you do that again,” I wheeze. “You’reheavy.”

“You love me, and I love you, and we’re married,” he ignores me.

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