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Callie watches me. “Aren't you going to unlock us?”

“Eventually.”

Her eyebrows lift. “Eventually?”

I put the key on the nightstand. Then I climb back into bed. The chain pulls her with me. She catches herself with one hand on my chest.

For once, Callie Quinn is speechless.

I look up at her. “What?”

A slow smile spreads across her face. “You like me.”

“Don't ruin it.”

Her smile grows. “You really like me.”

“Chaos.”

“You want to stay handcuffed to me.”

“I'm reconsidering.”

“Nope. Too late.”

She drops back onto the mattress and curls against me.

Alibi jumps onto the bed and wedges himself against my other side.

I stare at the ceiling.

Callie on one side, dog on the other. I’m handcuffed to her. Trapped in my own fucking bed.

I should hate this. Instead, I pull the blanket over all three of us.

Callie makes a pleased little sound and presses her face against my shoulder.

“You know,” she murmurs, “this is getting pretty domestic.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“With my hitman boyfriend and our dog.”

My eyes open. “I'm not your boyfriend.”

“Okay.”

“And he's your dog.”

“Sure.”

I turn my head. She's smiling with her eyes closed.

I should correct her again. Instead, I look at Alibi. He's already asleep.

Callie's fingers curl loosely around mine. The metal cuff is cold against my wrist. But her hand is warm.

And the key is six inches away.