That’s the moment Rix decided to walk into the kitchen, hair still wet.

I swear he just took the shortest shower in the history of the planet.

“Good, because I ain’t got a ring.”

I choked on the last sip of my coffee and started coughing. Trinity’s eyes lit up, and Rix opened the fridge, ignoring both our reactions in favor of orange juice.

Again, this whole scene was wildly domestic. And somehow . . . easy. Except for the fact that my espresso had gone down the very wrong pipe called what the hell did you just say.

Rix held up the OJ. “You want some, duchess?”

I nodded. “Please.”

“Trinity?”

“I already have some, thanks.”

And so our morning started with Trinity cooking to keep us all from getting food poisoning and keeping Rix from knowing about my complete lack of skill in the kitchen.

Conversation was light as we ate, mostly about the Saints and Trinity’s plans for art school. She was strangely silent on the Derrick front, but I didn’t bring him up. I was assuming that she and Rix knew way more about what was going on with him, and for once, I didn’t want to know.

There, Rix. I can play your game when I choose to.

As much as I loved hearing Trinity going on and on about art school, I was a little concerned what would happen when Derrick was back in the picture—if he came back. She was still a very young eighteen, and that boy had clearly melted enough of her brain that she didn’t make the best decisions.

On the other hand, if she hadn’t gotten wrapped up in him, I wouldn’t be sitting at my kitchen table with his “boss” either. Which was another situation that was only half-resolved and didn’t seem to have any easy answers.

Rix’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he stood to take the call. As soon as he’d left the room, Trinity turned to me.

“You’re gonna marry that man. I already know it. You better learn how to cook, girl, because he’s the kind that comes with quite an appetite.” She winked at me.

I wasn’t going to touch that statement with a ten-foot pole, especially not with Rix only one room away. The deep rumble of his voice carried just enough for me to lose the easy feeling I’d had most of the morning.

“I want patrols 24/7. We’re not fucking around. They’ll be back for blood.”

Chills ran through me at his prediction to whomever was on the other end of the call. Trinity’s face went blank and she gathered up the dishes. I decided to follow her lead, because I didn’t know what else to do. Any questions that I had would be met with silence or a refusal to answer.

If someone was coming back for blood, I didn’t think I wanted to know when or how or who, so long as they stayed far, far away from me. And I wanted them to stay far, far away from Rix. I was not okay with him needing more bandages. The idea of him hurting made me want to draw blood from someone else.

Whoa. When had I turned into this woman? Being around Rix had some very unexpected side effects.

When he ended the call and walked back into the kitchen, his face was set in an implacable expression. “I gotta go. Be back when I can. I’ll take Trinity home too.”

“Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone.”

He turned, and I followed him back into the living room where he’d taken the call. Only this time I shut the French doors behind me.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I heard some of what you said anyway.”

“And?”

“And I want to know if Trinity is going to be safe at her gran’s. The woman is elderly and not in the greatest health. If anyone is looking to use her as leverage again, won’t they just break in and grab her?”

“I guess you did hear plenty.” He lifted his hand to my face and tucked my hair behind my ear again. It was an intimate gesture, and one that was at odds with his stoic side. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to her. She’ll have someone watching out for her around the clock. I don’t expect they’ll retaliate that way, but I’m prepared for it regardless.”

“Good. Thank you.”

He shook his head. “You don’t need to thank me, duchess. I take care of the people under my protection.”

“So does that mean someone’s watching me too?”

Rix’s stare intensified. “I’ve had my guys on you for a while. Now, you’re never unprotected.”

Surprise rippled through me, but it wasn’t altogether unpleasant . . . until I recalled the dates I’d been on with Rhett. I wondered if he’d heard about those. My thoughts must have been written on my face, because Rix frowned.

“I didn’t always like what I heard, but I heard it anyway.”

Well, that answered that.

“You opening the gallery today?” he asked.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you have a plywood front window and you need to learn how to take a break.”

I stiffened at the second part of his statement. “I don’t tell you how to run your . . . business, so I don’t think you get the right to tell me how to run mine.”

He stepped closer, leaving no space between us, my breasts pressing against his chest. “Working six or seven days a week is gonna burn you out, duchess. And I want you smiling. Besides, tonight I got plans for you.”

He was right about the burnout. As much as I loved the gallery, threads of resentment were starting to form. My life was dictated by my work, which was completely normal for a small business owner, but I was starting to feel the weight of it more than I ever had in the past. Maybe because in the past I hadn’t had anything else competing for my attention like I did now. I hadn’t had a life outside my business.

“Now that Trinity is back and if you’ve got people staked out for security, I can see if she’s interested in taking on a few more hours a week. Remy already asked for more hours.”

Rix slid his hand into my hair and closed his fingers around it. The gesture was so him, so possessive, it unleashed butterflies in my stomach. “Good. I like that. So, tonight I’m gonna send you a text with instructions, and I want you to follow them to the letter.”

“What kind of instructions?” I asked.

“The kind I want you to follow without question. I may not be able to sit across a table from you at a fancy restaurant, but I can still take you out and show you a good time.”