Claimed by The Killer Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Funny, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
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“Yeah, well, it’s easy to say those words. Different thing being a parent.”

“But clearly, you do want them.”

“I’d want to work on it,” he says. “On myself, I mean. Work on the job, the duty of being a father. I’d want to do it well.”

“I can tell you’d do a great job just from you saying that. Just from you wanting to do well. You’re a capable person, clearly. If you aimed that energy at being a dad, I know you’d get all A’s.”

It’s such a gift, being able to make him smirk away his rage.

“What about you?” he asks. “Are you too young to be thinking about that?”

“No,” I say quickly. “I don’t think my age has anything to do with it. I don’t think my age matters, in terms of relationships, family… any of that.”

“So, you don’t think I’m too old for you? Is that what you’re saying?”

“You are not too old for me,” I reply.

Is that what he thinks? Hello, roadblock. Time to crash right into it.

Then he says, “No,” and my anxiety flutters away.

“I don’t care about our age gap,” he growls. “If anything…”

“If anything?”

He bites down on a hunk of steak, chewing.

“You can stuff steak into your mouth all you want,” I say, laughing, “but you’ll have to answer eventually. What were you going to say?”

“You’re so sassily persistent, you know that?”

“I’ve never been called sassily persistent before. I kind of like it.”

“Good, because it sums you up perfectly.”

I lean forward, staring at him, knowing we have something special here, something unique. We wouldn’t be able to sink so easily into this banter if there wasn’t something real.

“Do I need to keep saying it until you answer? Then I can show you how really mature I am. Okay, fine. If anything, if anything, if anything…”

He grins. “If anything, your age would be a good thing. If we, you know… and I’m talking about the future here.”

“You’ve suddenly gone very shy for a hit man.”

Said differently, this comment might be insulting, but every time we meet eyes, I know he can read my intent. I know he can sense the positivity I’m aiming at him.

“Let’s say we get out of this alive,” he says.

“Fingers crossed.”

He chuckles.

What is happening here? I imagine a different version of us, on the run, where laughter’s only a distant dream, and I’ve spent every second torn apart by fear. With us, it’s like we can push the rest of the world away and focus on being together.

“Let’s say we keep dating.”

I’m liking what I hear more and more each second.

“Yeah…”

“Your age would help us,” he says.

I’d say there was some redness in his cheeks.

“With a family?” I murmur. “Hypothetically, obviously.”

“Hypothetically,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, it could help. You’re young enough that we could…”

“Hypothetically,” I cut in when I can sense his nerves threatening to strangle him.

“Yeah, we could hypothetically have as many kids as we wanted.”

“Whoa, how many are you thinking?”

“If you’re going to do something, might as well do it right.”

“How many is doing it right?”

“Three, four, five,” he says. “I never had siblings. I had a brother once, but I lost him.”

“Oh, Luke,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

He flinches. “No, it wasn’t like that. It was… Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. Do you want kids?”

I’m tempted to push him on the brother thing. By it wasn’t like that, what does he mean? His brother didn’t die? Maybe his brother moved away or something, but I can’t keep pushing him every single moment.

“Yes,” I say. “I always have. Call it maternal instinct. Call it anything you want. I’ve always pictured myself with lots of happy, smiling faces around me. Lots of love. Lots of joy. Lots of forward momentum, like we’re all building toward something.”

“A family,” Luke says huskily. “A home.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “All of that.”

Surely, this is more than theoretical. Surely, this means he’s seriously considering it. That would make him as crazy as me, and I’m fine with that.

“But you have to picture the bad, too,” Luke says. “That’s one lesson I’m glad my dad taught me. Whenever you think about the future, don’t romanticize it. Imagine the bad moments. Don’t just think about the love and the joy. Think about the sleepless nights, changing diapers, the fear of something going wrong.”

“Of course, think about that,” I say. “Those are challenges. If you found the right partner, you’d overcome them. That would add to the joy, not take away from it.”

“Hmm,” he grunts.

“Hmm, what?”

“Guess you’ve got me rethinking a few things.”

I wave a hand. Go on…

“I’ve never thought into the future, never let myself, I guess. I’d work, work out, save money, and go fishing now and then. I used to think that was enough. I used to think I could be okay with that, but when I hear you talk about challenges, joy… it makes me wonder.”


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