I slid my arms around him from behind. “Declan, did you really want your family reunion to happen in the busy airport pickup area?” We’d been emailing the twins for several weeks, setting up their visit, even traded a few phone calls, but this would be the first time he’d seen them in years. He wouldn’t want to have that moment in a pickup zone, cars honking at him to move.

“No,” he grumbled.

My poor, anxious wolf. “Give them a little space to get their bearings between the flight and now. You can reimburse them for their Uber or whatever if that makes you feel better.”

He huffed. “I would give them space.”

He would try, but he hadn’t seen the twins in a long time. If I wasn’t careful, Declan would be glued to them every second of the day.

“Let them ease into things,” I said. “Shit like this is awkward.”

“I know.” He rubbed a hand over mine before turning so he could pull me into his arms.

I touched his face, silky smooth where his beard normally would be.

“You don’t like it?”

I dropped my hand, curling it on his chest. “I like your beard. It’s soft. But I like this, too.” He was handsome with the beard. Without it? He was devastating.

A bachelorette party was gathering outside before going into the brewery, all of them glancing over at him covertly, even the bride. I couldn’t blame them, really. He was ridiculously handsome. I mumbled a few words, letting go of the spell with a flick of my fingers. Hexing certainly wasn’t my specialty, but I could manage it.

I chanced a glance over at the women. One looked over, her cheeks pinked, but she grinned and gave me a thumbs up.

Declan put his face against my neck, laughing. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” I said.

He sighed. “It’s on my back, isn’t it?”

“I promise that it’s not bad.”

He pushed us over to a window so he could turn and look at his back. The word “taken” danced along his shoulders, bright as a neon sign. He threw back his head and laughed. “Was that necessary?”

“Yes,” I grumbled into his chest. “I’m not proud of myself.”

He tipped my chin up. “If I kiss you in front of all of those nice ladies, will you take the hex off?”

I sighed, and cancelled the hex. “No, it’s fine. You’re not property.”

He kissed me anyway and I heard a collective sigh from the bridesmaids. “I don’t mind being property,” he mumbled into my mouth. “As long as I’m yours.”

“Declan…” With his history, I wasn’t sure I was comfortable with him labeling himself as property.

He bumped his forehead against mine. “It’s not like that. I’m yours, like you’re mine. It’s like…joint property.” He gave me a smug grin. “Give up, Lou. You’re mine.”

I turned away with a sniff, my nose in the air. “Well, I hope you appreciate what you got. I’m a pretty good catch for someone with a probation officer.”