Then he walks straight up to me and says, “Mind if we talk for a minute inside?”
“Sure.”
He takes my hand and leads me through the back door and into the kitchen, where we then take a turn into the hallway.Here, he stops and stares down at me. “I need you to do something for me.”
“What?”
“You know how much I love your mouth and your mind. But you’ve got to stop saying shit to bad guys that makes them want to hit you,” he says in a calm voice. “Please. I can feel it giving me new gray hairs every time you do it.”
My shoulders drop. “I don’t mean to.”
“But you kind of do.”
“They’re just such assholes.”
He nods. “I know they are. Doesn’t stop sarcasm from being a bad defense against a fist.”
I rest my back against the wall and sigh. “Fine.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He’s still holding the hand he led me inside by. But he’s not touching me otherwise. Just standing there watching me with those dark blue eyes of his. There’s an intimacy to this—me and him standing alone in the shadows having a stolen moment. “How was your day?”
“The horrors persist, but so do I.”
“Good job.”
“We did gardening,” I say. “I made Nash haul buckets of water. That was fun for me.”
The frown descends. “I don’t like him being around you.”
“He was fine. Bowie wanted to hang out with the girls and Nash is his security blanket, so…” I take a deep breath. “You called me ‘baby’ this morning.”
“Yeah.”
“And you called me ‘wife’ yesterday.”
He nods. “Yes, I did.”
“And ‘love’ came out of your mouth before. You need to stop making it weird between us.”
“Honestly it seems a little late for that, given everything.” He winces and thinks it over. “Can’t help but notice you don’t seem actually upset by me using any of this language.”
“Notupsetexactly.Perturbedmight be a better word.”
“Hmm.”
I don’t know what to say or do with all of this. Which is a lie. So many years of trying to make emotionally backward boys feel something besides lust for me. To stop playing games and cheating and ghosting me. This man is not without his issues. Truly. But he’s devoted to me in a way I’ve never experienced before.
“Are you even the smallest bit interested in Naomi?” I ask out of curiosity. “I mean, she’s so cool.”
“Interested in what way?”
“You know.”
He cocks his head and stares down at me in wide-eyed wonder. Then he lifts his hand and strokes my neck. His gentle touch soon turns firm, however, as he holds my neck in his grasp. I don’t know if I should be okay with this. But the side of his thumb slides over my skin and I don’t hate it. Not even a little.
“What?” I ask.
His hand returns to his side. “Don’t get me wrong, I kind of like that you’re jealous. But where the hell do you think I’m getting the time and energy from to chase after anyone’s ass but yours?”
