Santo let his breath out on a long sigh as he gave up, not on her, but on fighting his need for her. He could not live without Pet. The last six weeks had been hell. He had to try. Santo had waited too long for her to give up now.
“Are you ready to stop being an idiot?” she asked solemnly.
Santo smiled faintly. “I have been an idiot, haven’t I?”
“Yes. But you’re my idiot,” she said, her voice husky. “I love you, Santo.”
“I love you too, tesoro,” he breathed, closing the small space between them and wrapping her in his arms. “I’ll try not to be an idiot in future.”
Pet shrugged in his embrace. “You can’t help it. You’re an ass in the Chinese zodiac. It’s in your stars.”
“There’s no ass in the Chinese zodiac,” he said with exasperation, scooping her up and turning to carry her back toward the bedroom.
“Who studied it? You or me?” she asked.
Santo rolled his eyes. “You. Fine. There is an ass, and I am one.”
“Yes.” Smiling, she cuddled against his chest. “But you are my ass.”
Chuckling, he carried her into the bedroom, no longer afraid of making love to her. They had shared dreams, Bear, and if necessary, he had some chains in his garage somewhere. There were worse things than being chained to a bed while your woman made love to you, but Santo didn’t think that would be necessary. He was ready to let go of the past . . . especially if he had a future with Pet.