"That's right." She says as if I understand why she needs one.
I slow the car down and ease out of the traffic, pulling into a parking spot. Then turn to tell her, "I won't hit you … ever, even if you want me to. BDSM is a hard 'no' for me. Pull your hair? Yes. Maybe a swat on the ass? Okay. But a strike? NO. That's not going to happen."
She frowns at me. "Good. But I need a safe word."
"I'm confused." I lift my hand and gesture, shaking my head. "No, actually, I'm lost. What the hell are you talking about? What are you thinking?"
She pats my hand and states as if I'll understand without further explanation. "My safe word is Pickle."
"Okay. Pickle. That's random enough. But when you say, 'pickle,' what am I supposed to do?"
She turns to look at me. "Be mean."
I blink, still confused. "Elaborate."
"The opposite of sweet."
My face compresses in a confused frown. "Why would you want me to be mean?"
"I don't want you to hurt me."
"But wouldn't saying something mean hurt you?" I run my fingers through my hair.
"Bastian, I'll need your help to keep my feelings off my shoulder."
"What if I said you don't have to?"
"Pickle!"
"You're overthinking whatever issue this is. I can't follow along. I'm just a man, Samaera. A simple-minded man. You have to spell it out for me in logical language."
She sighs, "When I say 'pickle,' it's a warning to stop being sweet so you won't hurt me."
"Iwon'thurt you."
"When you're sweet, like that." She twirls her finger around, indicating the moment we are in. "You have to be mean to me. To bring me back to reality. To keep my heart from being broken."
I dismiss her concern as nonsense. "Your heart is going to be fine, Samaera." I squeeze her hand, lift it to my lips, and pucker up to kiss it.
Right before my lips touch it, she says loudly, "PICKLE!"
I laugh, understanding now.
No sweetness means no romance;
no romance means no love,
and no love means no commitment.
Therefore, no broken heart.
I look into her eyes, roll her arm over so the tender part of her wrist is exposed, and right before I kiss it, I tell her softly, "In that case, you're fired."
Her hand jerks, and I let her snatch it out of my grasp. Her eyes narrow. She's unsure. She needs the job, and she knows I know she needs the job. But what she doesn't know is that I'm all about the relationship. The business is the bonus.
I grin at her. "What?"
"That was too mean!" She swats my arm.
