There’s nothing Harry loves more than spoiling her. Nothing sweeter, nothing more addictive than watching his twenty-two-year-old girl’s eyes light up when he gives her exactly what she wants—or better yet, before she even knows she wants it.

Every shop they walk into, she’s a vision—soft laughter spilling from her lips, delicate fingers brushing over clothes, trinkets, jewelry… and every time, Harry feels that deep pull in his chest. That need to give. That ache to see her happy.

She picks something up and glances at him? It’s hers.

She barely touches it, leaves it behind? Harry’s already slipping his card to the clerk, telling them to wrap it up because his girl deserves the whole damn store.

He’d buy her the sun if someone could hang a price tag on it.

They met eight months ago in Italy—a birthday trip courtesy of her brother, Tyler Johnson, who also happened to be Harry’s producer. One moment, one smile, one “hi” that was too sweet for its own good… and Harry was finished. Done for. Hooked from the very first second.

He never thought he’d fall like this again, much less for someone younger. At thirty-one, he’d been through it all—long nights, broken hearts, promises that didn’t last. But her… she was different. A dream in soft skin and wide eyes, sweet as honey and just a little spoiled.

And Harry? God, he loved that about her. He loved the way she leaned on him, the way she lit up when he took care of her, the way spoiling her made him feel like he was giving her the world she deserved.

And he’s not stopping. Not now, not ever. Because loving her like this—lavish, tender, endless—is the only thing he’s ever wanted to spend his life doing.