Rakshasa Pirate Boyfriend Atticus 2 (special preview)

I look down at his paw and I don’t pull my hand away. “My dad did a good enough job. But still,” I grumble.

Atticus squeezes my hand. “That explains a few things,” he chuckles. He takes my hand, lifting it and kissing my knuckles. “Let me give you your gifts.”

I sigh and pull my hand back. “Why?” I huff.

“Because they’re for you. I can’t give them to anyone else,” he chuckles. “Please?” He asks. “Or else they are just going to go to waste.”

I sigh. “Ok, fine,” I grumble.

“Wonderful,” he stands up and extends his paw to me again.

I reluctantly take it, letting him lead me to the ballroom. It’s full of crates and boxes, apparently Atticus and his crew are using it as storage and a napping area. He leads me to a stack of wrapped boxes and hands me one.

“Did you really have to go the extra step and wrap them?” I ask as I tug loose a bow.

“I did,” he chuckles. “I do so find it enjoyable to watch a woman open gifts.”

From inside the box, I pull out a simple dress, light and soft fabric the color of a poppy blossom. 

“I knew you wouldn’t care for gowns and frills,” Atticus says as he rubs the fabric between his fingers. “I got you several along with the fireproof one.” He hands me another gift.

“Do you always try to woo women like this?” I ask.

Atticus shrugs. “Men, women, everything in between,” he grins. “I prefer to get to know someone before I do any sort of wooing,” he replies. “I like to create lasting relationships.”

I look up at him. “Are you telling me you’re a polygamist?” I ask.

Atticus throws his head back and laughs loudly. “Of course not!” He says. “I make love and keep friends,” he says. “Is that such a strange concept?”

“A little,” I mutter.

Atticus captures my chin and tilts my head up. “I find attraction, I desire company, only once the bond is cemented do I truly wish to make love.”

I drop the box I was holding and hear something clattering and crack.

Atticus chuckles and kicks the box aside. “Am I shocking you?”

I swallow and take a step out of his reach. “I think I should be getting home.” I quickly turn and leave the ballroom. Atticus is close on my heel.

“Why the rush?” He asks. “I thought we were having a good time.”

I go outside and to the cart. “I need to make the hinges,” I say as I try to get into the cart. “Then I can install this with my father.”

Atticus crawls up into the cart with me. “Let me go with you.”

“No, really, just stay put!” I snap at him