Page 84 of His Innocent Muse

I finally smile and stroke her cheek. “No. There is no quantity cap on things you deserve, and I’ll give you as much as I want.”

“Fiiiine,” she teases, and I allow it because frankly, it’s adorable. “Can I…have the gift now?”

“I’d like that.”

She glances around, gaze lingering on the stage a moment before facing me again. “Where is it?”

My grin continues as I stroll down the aisle to the decorated table. Keeping my eyes on hers, I lean over and pluck the small box from underneath. Eustice did a fine job wrapping it, though its size undermines the importance of what’s inside.

Lucy’s mouth falls open, hands clasping under her chin in excitement. “I love it.”

I laugh, sweeping her into my embrace, holding the box out of reach. “You don’t even know what it is.”

“No, but it’s from you, which means I love it.”

“Just by default, hmm?” I nuzzle her neck.

“Mmhmm.”

“What if,” I pull back and take her hand, leading her to the stage, “it’s a roll of stamps?”

She taps her chin thoughtfully. “Are they cute stamps?”

“No. The most hideous stamps the post office has ever designed.”

“Aww, that’s the best. Those stamps deserve love, too.”

I laugh again, shaking my head as we near the edge. “I see.”

Yet more proof that Lucy is far too perfect for this broken world. Too perfect for me.

I scoop her up, hugging her tightly as if I could somehow mash her goodness into me.

She leans her head against my shoulder, arms around my neck, as I simply hold her, mind racing.

I’m assaulted by flashes of Roman’s face, her old house, Chuck’s slimy grin, the marks on her, the way she looked coming out of that trunk, how she looked fresh out of the shower, the scum whose face I broke in the alley.

There is still a large piece of the puzzle missing, maybe more than one. Roman’s reaction is important. He knows that name and fears it, which in itself is a wonder. The man believes himself truly untouchable. So who is this Damian? Why does he want my code?

More importantly, how do I keep Lucy safe from him when I don’t even know what he looks like?

“You really do give the best hugs,” she murmurs against my skin.

But I’m too keyed up to find that exciting. I set her on the edge of the stage, but she squeezes my neck tighter.

“Lucy.”

As usual, she picks up on my tone shift, and quickly drops her arms to her lap.

“Yes, Sir?”

I settle myself directly in front of her, gripping her knees.

“I know this isn’t the easiest thing to talk about, but I need to know what Damian looks like.”

She winces for a second, chewing at her lip before nodding. “Uh. Okay. He’s…blondish. A slight underbite. Mean eyes. Ears are a little big. Honestly, I think he used to be a fighter, because he’s really strong. But–but he’s not, you know, a big, muscly guy. Just.” She stutters a breath. “Strong.”

A shadow crosses her eyes, one hand locking around her other arm as she curls in on herself.

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