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Presses them gently against my knuckles, wordlessly promising everything will be alright.

That he’ll protect me.

Now.

Always.

Forever.

Chapter 7

Hogan

“Dock”

My ankles roll around in the cool water, grin incapable of shrinking courtesy of Emaline’s loud and enthusiastic excitement, “He’s so blue!” I lean myself back onto my palms at the same time that she shrieks. “And fast!”

Great Blue Herons really aren’t that fast.

But I’m not gonna tell her that.

No reason to.

She’s happy.

I like her happy.

I like being the reason she’s happy.

“Gahhhhh,” she further croons, binoculars smashed against her glasses, “he’s so…majestic.”

“You want me jealous.” An amused grunt is expelled. “Done.”

Giggles shake her frame, diverting my attention to the little, beautiful “blemishes” I can’t get enough of.

Like the lock of hair that didn’t make it into her side ponytail.

The random tattered strings that must’ve gotten snagged on something during the one time she wore the jacket before.

Hell, even the tiny bit of pink panties peeking out from underneath her jeans lets me know she’s not commando.

Not expecting to drop those bottoms to fuck me wherever.

See.

That’s the shit I like.

Emaline isn’t put together like a thirst trap image.

She’s not putting on a performance.

She didn’t spend hours putting on makeup or fussing over every strand of hair on her body to please the outside world.

Yeah.

She clearly put on this little Grease tribute to impress, but that’s the thing.

She didn’t have to.