Harrison glanced down and saw the sincerity and affection shining in the girl’s eyes. He couldn’t hide the tremor that ran through him.
The emotions swelling in his chest were impossible to put into words. All he could do was pull her into his arms, holding her so tightly he wished he could draw her beneath his skin—let her become a part of him.
“Ana…” he breathed.
His Ana.
“Babe, you’re hurting me,” she whimpered, her voice plaintive.
Harrison immediately eased his grip, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Sorry. I lost control for a second.”
He rubbed her slender waist, concern softening his tone. “Does it still hurt?”
Anastasia lifted her long-lashed eyes, pouting just a little. “It does. Only a kiss from you will make it better.”
His voice went husky and tender. “Alright, a kiss it is.”
Logan, who’d become an expert at reading the room, wheeled Marcus out of the living room without hesitation. His movements were swift and practiced.
“Wait—hey, where are you taking me?” Marcus protested, not quite catching up with the situation.
Logan’s reply was unruffled. “Anywhere else we’re supposed to be.”
Marcus blinked. “Anywhere else? Where, exactly?”
“Anywhere but here.”
“…Right.”
Anastasia proved, with actions rather than words, that there was nothing a little playful affection couldn’t solve. If it didn’t work the first time, she’d just try again.
Half an hour later, her lips were a little sore, but the outcome was more than worth it—her husband had completely dropped the subject of those two earlier incidents. The way he looked at her was impossibly gentle, making her heart flutter wildly in her chest.
“Give your phone to Logan in a bit,” Harrison said suddenly.

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