Lucas

“Miatta?”

“Yes, My Lord?”

“You have been scrubbing at my head for quite some time now. When do you plan to get to the other half of me?”

She paused, her hands still in my hair. “In due time, my L—”

“Don't. Just don't, Miatta.” I couldn't hide the concrete anger in my voice. “Don't try that with me. You know you can call me Lucas. You have been calling me that all day.”

She rinsed her soapy hands in the tub and walked around to the other side, leaving the ...