I sit back on my seat. “Work and fucking you don’t count, I’m guessing?”
“No.” Concern creeps into her expression when I don’t have a ready answer. “We need to improve on that, Max. You don’t watch TV, for God’s sake! It’s not normal.”
“I have TVs!” I argue.
“That’s not the same as watching them. I suppose you practice Jiu-Jitsu, but that’s less about fun and more about being able to kill someone.” She takes a dainty sip of tea. “Hmmm.”
Because this isn’t a conversation I’m ever going to win, and sensing I’m about to become a “project,” I ask, “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“I have to talk to Morgan Neige about your donations to Heat N Go.”
Donations. Plural. I smile.
“What about them?”
“I think we need some mode of transportation. It’s not enough to just fill the food banks. There are homeless people who need to eat in town and the soup kitchens can only feed so many. We could set up a round or?—”
“If you ever do a shift, you tell me and I’ll get a guard to fulfill it.”
“That’s not fair!”
“Tough.”
She grumbles, “Pain in my ass.”
“I can be. If you want.” Her glare has me studying her. “Why do you do this?”
Her focus shifts to her tea. “Even before I knew more about your childhood, I had a reason to care about this stuff. Did you know Camille found sanctuary with the Sinners because after she left home, she was homeless? That she nearly starved?”
“I didn’t know that, no.” I find her hand and gently squeeze it. “She’s safe now.”
“No thanks tofamily. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let some other girl feel that way. And now I have access to your bank accountanda trust fund, apparently, so I can deliver on that promise.”
I kiss the inside of her wrist. “Brennan would have helped.”
“Yes. Eoghan, too. I just… don’t like bringing it up. It was a terrible time for her and… this is my project. Not theirs.”
“I understand,” I tell her softly. “Now, what other plans do you have?”
“I’m talking to someone about our fuck furniture.”
“That’s the official name?”
“Of course. I’ll trademark it if it takes off.” She taps her chin. “I’m putting her on a retainer so she’ll make everything I want.”
“Good idea.”
“I know. Aren’t I the best?”
“Yes,korovka.”
“I figured Mongolian cashmere would feel the best against my skin.” She shivers like she’s imagining the sensory experience. “I wonder if Miroslava knows how to get cum out of wool.”
I almost snort my tea through my nose. “Warn a man,kroshka!”
“What? It’s your fault. You produce a lot of it.” Her eyes trace me up and down. “Is that because you’re so… fit?”
When she licks her lips, I hide a smile. But there’s no hiding it when she falls into a daze, her mind enjoying the journey her imagination takes her on…
