Page 131 of Imperfect Arrangement

Nerves flicker in my chest, but I don’t hesitate. “I love you, Ray.”

His lips twitch before his mouth curves into a devastatingly sensual smile. His head dips, his breath teasing against my lips. “Just remember that tomorrow.”

* * *

This morning,when I open my eyes, a slow, unstoppable smile spreads across my face. I’m in Ray’s bed, and the first thing I see is him—his beautiful face and his green eyes shining with amusement like he’s been waiting for me to wake up.

“Good morning.” My cheeks instantly warm as last night comes rushing back.

After we said goodbye to Decent Joe, Ray drove us home, his hand never once letting go of mine. The moment he parked outside the garage—hell, even before he fully cut the engine—his mouth was on me. He didn’t even wait to get to his room. He pressed me against the wall in the hallway, kissed me until my knees were weak, and touched me like he had thirty days to make up for…which technically, he did.

Meanwhile, I, the logical, responsible one, was the one worried that Quill would catch us before we got the chance to tell her that things have changed between her dad and me.

“It’s a very good morning,” Ray murmurs. “So good that it still feels like a dream.”

My cheeks ache from grinning so wide. “Dream about me often, Teager?”

His mouth tugs at the corner, wicked and knowing. “You have no fucking idea how many times.”

Holy crap.

Gone is the sentimental Raymond Teager who makes wishes to fairies and whispers confessions into the night. This is the man who takes what he wants and doesn’t second-guess himself. The shift sends a shiver through me, and I open my mouth to ask what exactly he’s dreamed about when…the door flies open.

A blur of red pajamas and messy golden hair barrels straight toward me.

“Willow!” Quill launches herself onto the bed, her little body colliding against mine with a force that has me gasping before I can even sit up.

Ray groans as she lands half on top of him, half on top of me, and just like that, my entire body melts.

“Hey, Bug.” I laugh, smoothing her hair back as she snuggles against me. “I missed you.” My hands running over her small back freeze.

What the hell?

Something cold and metallic presses against my wrist, the weight of it suddenly registering as I pull my hand away from Quill’s back. A handcuff.

I jerk my head toward Raymond, my jaw practically unhinging when I see the smug, self-satisfied grin stretching across his too-handsome face.

“What the heck is this, Ray?” I demand, lifting my arm. The long chain rattles ominously between us.

Ray casually lifts his own hand—where the other cuff is secured tightly to his wrist.

He tied us together. He freaking handcuffed me.

My brain short-circuits. One half of me is overheating because, holy hell, what is more romantic than your guy literally shackling the two of you together? The other, more rational half of me is screaming about boundaries and privacy.

“I was being a good sport,” he says casually, completely unbothered by my rising hysteria. “Taking DJ’s advice seriously.”

Oh. My. God.

“You didn’t,” I hiss, yanking at the chain, but it barely moves against his strength.

Ray has the audacity to chuckle. Quill, still curled against me, giggles.

“Did Daddy tie you together so you won’t run away again?” she signs innocently, blinking up at me.

My glare snaps back to him, but that damn grin hasn’t budged an inch.

“I’m not taking any more chances, Firefly,” he murmurs, sending a shiver right down my spine. “You can keep running, but just know”—he tugs lightly at the chain between us, pulling me the smallest bit closer—“wherever you go, I’ll be right there with you.”