“And I would rather be safe then sorry,” I tell her, drying off my hands then leaning back against the counter and pulling her to stand between my legs. “I need to know you’re safe,” I say, and she studies my face for a long time before letting out a breath.

“Okay, but only for today.”

“I’m not negotiating with you, Ellie, not when it comes to you or Hope’s safety.”

“Having a boyfriend who’s a badass is annoying,” she mumbles under her breath, making me smile.

“You’ll get used to it eventually,” I promise her, running my hands up the curve of her waist.

“If you’re done bossing me around, can I go finish getting ready for work and make sure Hope hasn’t painted herself or another wall?” she asks, referring to the last time we left Hope alone and she started painting the wall in her room with glitter nail polish.

Feeling my brows pull downward, I look her over and ask, “I thought you were ready.”

“I still need to do my makeup, and I want to get Hope dressed before I go. No offense, but the last time you watched her and she wore her green Christmas tights and her frozen dress, I was a little embarrassed.”

“She wanted to dress herself.” I shrug, grabbing her ass and pulling her closer. “And you don’t need makeup, you already look beautiful.”

“You’re such a guy.” She smiles, leaning up and kissing my jaw.

“I want a real kiss before you go,” I say, hauling her tighter against me and dipping my face towards hers.

“Boss—”

Cutting her off, I cover her mouth with mine and swipe my tongue across the seam of her lips, groaning when her lips part and her tongue slides across mine, leaving behind the taste of her and coffee. Pulling away slowly with one last kiss, I smile when her eyes flutter open and her hands reluctantly release my tee.

“Tonight,” I tell her, watching her eyes heat and feeling her body melt into mine.

*

“Can you paint my nails, Ax?” Hope asks, coming into the kitchen, where I’m standing and going through surveillance for one of the local businesses that’s been having a slew of break-ins over the last two months.

“I…” Looking at the polish in her hand, I know this will be disastrous, even worse than her doing it herself, which is bad, considering she had polish covering her and her clothes the last time she did them. “How about we go get your nails done?” I say instead.

“Weally?” she breathes happily.

“Sure, sweetheart, then after, we can go see July at the vet.”

“Yay!” she screams, dancing around in circles, making me laugh.

“Go get your coat and shoes,” I tell her, and she runs out of the kitchen. Shutting down my laptop, I grab my hat from the counter and pick up my keys, putting them in my pocket.

“I can’t find my coat.” Going to the front hall and opening the door for the coat closet, I pull out her jacket that is hanging on one of the lower hooks.

“Did you even look?” I ask, handing her the coat, knowing she never looks for anything; she always just says she can’t find whatever it is she’s looking for so that someone will get it for her.

“I looked everywhere but there,” she says seriously, making me fight back a smile.

“Do you know where your shoes are?” I ask.

“Yep,” she says, running to the living room and coming back a few seconds later with a pair of sparkly, red, kids’ plastic heels on that remind me of The Wizard of Oz.

“I don’t know if you should wear those,” I tell her, watching as she attempts to walk in the shoes, which are too big and are only made for playing dress-up.

“But they wook pretty,” she states, looking down at herself and tapping the toes of the shoes together.

Knowing Ellie won’t be happy if she wears the heels, I go to the front door and pick up her tall, rainbow-striped rubber boots and ask, “How about these instead?”

“But I wike dese ones,” she insists as her bottom lip wobbles and tears fill her eyes.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. You can wear them, but we’ll take these just in case.”

“Okay,” she says with a smile as the tears dry up instantly, letting me know I just got played.

Walking into the nail salon thirty minutes later, carrying Hope, because she can’t walk in her shoes, I wonder if this was a huge mistake. There is nothing but women inside, and by the way they are all looking at me, you would think I just walked into a speed-dating meet-up.

“How can I help you?” an older woman asks, looking at me then Hope, who has suddenly gone shy.

“She would like to get her nails painted,” I tell her.

“Oh,” the lady says, smiling at Hope. “Do you know what color you want?”

“Pink,” Hope says, laying her head against my shoulder.

“How about I show you some of the pinks we have, and then you can pick your favorite?” the lady asks with a gentle smile.

“Okay,” Hope replies as I set her on the ground so she can follow the lady in her sparkly heels to a large display of polish. Feeling heat on my back, I turn around, noticing a few of the women in the salon have their eyes on me, and most of them have an approval there that is making me uncomfortable. Turning and going to Hope, I watch as she doesn’t only pick pink, but purple and sparkles as well, before handing the colors off to the woman, who then leads her over to one of the chairs.