Page 43 of Their Tracked Obsession

“Yeah. Great idea,” Saint agreed as he stood beside his best friend and nodded. “You can learn how to defend yourself with a weapon.”

“No way, guys.” I shook my head in disagreement. “I’m not ready for guns.”

“Oh, yes, you are.” Sin nodded.

“Nope.” I popped the P. “You can go. I’ll take a—”

Sin hoisted me up and threw me over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” I protested.

My hair dangled in my face, my fists pounded his back, and I thrashed my legs. The effort didn’t help. Sin held me tightly, trapping me while he chuckled at my urgency to escape.

Saint tapped my ass, bent over, and smiled at me. “This will be fun.”

“No, Saint! Not cool! Put me down this instant!” I cried out.

“Not yet…” Sin heaved while he carried me across the street. “Not until you calm down. This is for your own good.”

Horns honked. People watched. My face went bright red. A mix of embarrassment and a damn head rush.

“He’s right, Liv…” Saint added while he held the door open for Sin. “We only have your best interests at heart. You need to protect yourself.”

“I already know self-defense.” I grew dizzy when Sin spun around.

“Not with a weapon.” Sin heaved a grunt while he put me down on the floor, and he held me by the waist. “Easy does it.”

“Let go of me.” I pushed his hands away and fixed my hair. “I’m fine.”

“You’re angry,” Saint said.

“Of course I am!” I whisper-shouted and glanced around.

Fuck. Now I was the one making a damn scene while Sin and Saint stood in front of me with their arms crossed. My chest heaved, and I blinked away black dots. My vision grew clearer; people quit staring and went back to minding their own business.

“Are you done having a tantrum, sweetheart?” Sin tilted his head and nodded toward the firing range. “Can we teach you how to shoot a gun?”

Sin and Saint were only being supportive, and I was fighting them. I guess deep down I wanted to be normal. I wanted to have a productive day of wedding errands with them and go home to the penthouse to make sweet love. But our love story wasn’t the standard normal of everyday life. We had targets on our backs, and somewhere at the flower shop I had forgotten all about the danger.

“Fine,” I huffed.

“Atta girl.” Sin smirked.

Sin turned around and went to the front desk to sign in. Saint walked over toward me, studied me carefully, and tilted his head. He stopped beside me.

“What?” I asked with an attitude.

“God, I love it when you’re a brat,” Saint whispered in my ear and ran a hand down my back. “I missed your spunky attitude. Gives me a hard-on.”

I ran a hand down his chest. “Blue balls too?”

“You bet,” Saint replied.

“I have a fix for the problem.” I went lower and crept down to the waist of his jeans.

“Is that so?” Saint smirked.

I nodded playfully. “Uh-huh.”