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Jesus Christ. The way she sucked that candy back in, cheeks hollowing slightly. Looking at me through her lashes like she knew exactly what she was doing.

"You're enjoying this," I said.

"The security planning?" All innocence. Another slow lick. "I'm finding it surprisingly engaging."

"That's not what I meant."

She grinned around the lollipop. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Soldier Boy."

But she uncrossed and recrossed her legs, making sure I noticed. Making sure I suffered.

"You know," I leaned back, forcing casual into my voice, "you're one of the smartest tactical minds I know. You just hide it under . . ."

I gestured vaguely at her whole setup. The organized chaos. The deliberately bratty attitude. The sex-on-legs thing she had going with that damn lollipop.

"Under my devastating beauty and artistic genius?" she supplied, batting her eyelashes.

"Something like that."

I didn't deny it. Couldn't, really. She was devastating. Beautiful. Some kind of evil genius specifically designed to make me lose my mind.

The bell chimed before I could say something stupidly honest, and Mia burst through the door like sunshine incarnate.

"Lena! Ready for bridesmaid tattoo planning!" She bounced—actually bounced—across the shop, tote bag swinging. "Brought my coloring books in case we run long. Duke's parking—"

She noticed me and smiled, all warmth and innocence.

"Oh hey! You doing security stuff?"

But I wasn't watching Mia. I was watching Lena.

And what I saw made everything click into place.

Her entire demeanor shifted the second Mia mentioned coloring books. The bratty confidence vanished like smoke. Her shoulders curved inward, making her seem smaller. Younger. Her fingers tightened on the lollipop stick until her knuckles went white.

Longing flashed across her face so pure and desperate it took my breath away. Then envy, sharp and bitter. Then want—deep, aching want for something she wouldn't let herself have.

All in maybe two seconds before she slammed the mask back down.

But I'd seen it. Seen her.

How had I never noticed it before?

"Yeah, just going over some upgrades," I said to Mia, keeping my voice normal while my mind raced.

Lena pulled the lollipop out, tossing it in the trash with forced casualness. "All done here anyway. Ty was just leaving."

Ty. Not Tyson or Soldier Boy. Just Ty.

"Actually," I said, standing slowly, "I need to grab some measurements for the window sensors. Won't take long."

A lie. I'd gotten every measurement I needed. But I wasn't ready to leave. Not when I'd just figured out the puzzle that was Lena Rivera.

She was a Little.

All the pieces fell into place like dominoes. The way she bristled at strict protocols—someone had used rules to control her. The flashes of vulnerability under the bratty armor. How young she looked when scared. The longing in her eyes when Mia casually mentioned something as innocent as coloring books.

She was a Little without a Daddy, and it was killing her.