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Her eyes flashed. “Far from you, you mean.” She stepped forward, invading his space with her body and her scent. “Why are you sending me away, Anthony?”
His thoughts and arguments were quickly fleeing, replaced by nothing but thoughts of her. "I can't let you two be in danger because of me,” he managed to say. In his mind, that was the end of the discussion. Their safety was more important than anything else.
“It’s a good thing you don’t control me. Or my daughter,” Kaylie quipped.
“I’m not trying to control you,” he groaned. This woman would be the death of him.
Kaylie studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Running away won't solve anything. I won't let fear dictate our lives any longer. I want to be here. With you. Don’t you want that?”
Tank felt his resolve crumbling. “Fiamella,” he said with an exasperated tone.
“What does that mean?” Curiosity colored her voice, her earlier ire dissipated. Her eyes were locked on his.
“Little flame,” he admitted gruffly. “Small and warm, but more powerful than you think.”
Her cheeks bloomed with pink, and Kaylie's gaze softened. “I’m staying,” she declared gently, before continuing in a tone just above a whisper. “I’m not scared to stand with you, Anthony. Quite the opposite, actually. I’m terrified to not be here with you. I never dreamed that the chronically messy guy I cleaned for would turn into the second most important person in my life.” She glanced at Lia, clearly indicating who was the first. Her arms wrapped around his waist, glancing up at him with questions in her eyes.
Tank's heart swelled at Kaylie's words, the vulnerability in her admission echoing his own. The weight that had settled on his shoulders began to lift, replaced by a warmth he hadn't realized he was craving.
Tank shifted and returned the embrace, holding her tightly. He never wanted to let go. Kaylie's arms around him were a promise of solidarity, a shared commitment to face whatever challenges lay ahead. His eyes slid to Lia, who was looking up at them with innocent eyes, her smile growing as she saw them hug.
Tank couldn't help but lower his head. Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss—a promise, a reassurance, a recognition of the bond that had grown between them. Kaylie saw him the way no one else did. Somehow, she saw beyond his grumpy face and terse comments to the real him.
As their lips brushed together, warmth coursed through him, melting away the armor he had donned over the years. Kaylie's touch ignited a fire within, a flame that burned away the shadows of doubt and regret that had haunted him. All the decisions and sins of his past had led him to this moment, with her. The softness of her lips against his was an exquisite torture that he would gladly repeat every day for the rest of his life.
“Are you sure?” he asked, not quite able to believe she was really choosing him. “I’m a killer,” he whispered.
She shook her head. “You’re a protector.”
She pressed her lips to his again. “A good man.”
Another kiss, his lips tingling at the contact. “A hero.”
And another, just a half a breath longer. “And a decent boss,” she said, a smirk playing on her lips before he crashed his own down on them.
“Sassy,” he murmured, loving the way her smile curled against his.
Something crashed against his legs, and he broke the kiss to look down. Lia’s bright brown eyes looked up at him hopefully. “I want kisses too,” she declared.
Tank looked at Kaylie, her face holding an amused smile.
“Well,” he said, bending down to grab the little girl and holding her between the two of them. “I can’t very well say no to a princess, can I?”
He and Kaylie both leaned in and covered her cheeks with loud kisses until she squealed to be let back down. He set her down and then pulled Kaylie back into his arms.
Tank looked down, letting his eyes memorize her features. “I love you, Kaylie.”
Her eyes widened slightly, the pupils dilating instantly. Her mouth fell open with a soft gasp. Then she buried her face in his chest.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, simply enjoying the way she fit there. She didn’t have to say it back. Not yet. He knew he’d been harboring feelings far longer than she had. “I should have told you sooner, but I was scared what it would mean. I’m not… I’m pretty messed up,” he admitted.
Her body shook with laughter. She pulled back slightly, and he could see the broad grin on her face. “You protected me from two men sent by my abusive mobster ex. Then I ran away so you had to rescue me from him before he was about to sell me to an evil man bent on world domination. And you think you’re messed up?”
Tank pressed his lips to her forehead. “You’re perfect.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m definitely not. But I love you too much to care.”
Tank’s mouth fell open at her words, his heart full to near bursting. “You do?”
