I’m struck by the resounding sense of rightness that settles over me at the thought. I don’t know how it’s happened in such a short amount of time, but I can’t deny the feeling. I want him to be mine as much as I want to be his. And that’s what’s going to happen when we’re married. We’ll be bound together for the rest of our lives.
Are you seriously prepared to make that sort of commitment?
I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.
From captive to roommate to husband, all in a matter of days. I’m a little afraid to ask what fate has in store for me next.
“I didn’t realizeyou had so little stuff.” Tommy studies the tiny corner of his massive walk-in closet that now houses my entire wardrobe. “And I checked my card. You still haven’t ordered anything.” If I didn’t know Tommy, I might be offended at his comments, but I know he’s merely stating the obvious. There’s no judgment involved, so no reason to be upset.
No, I don’t have much. That’s a fact. He’s not intending to imply I’m poor or less than.
“I don’t need much.” I smile at him. “And now that I have all my stuff, I have plenty.”
He huffs. “Go get your tablet while I take these boxes out.” He goes about his task, removing all evidence of my move. I have no reason to argue because I have no clue what he intends, so I get my computer and sit on the bed reclined against the headboard.
When he returns, he flips on the overhead light, then squats beside the bed. I’m about to ask him what on earth he’s doing when he pulls out the long gun case.
“Did you want me to do something in particular with my tablet? Or were you just wanting me to occupy myself while you clean your gun?”
“You’re supposed to be shopping,” he says while setting up his gear on the bedroom floor. “Where do you like to shop?”
“Resale shops, mostly.”
Tommy pauses to shoot me a glare. “You’re not helping. When you treat yourself, where do you go?”
I think for a moment, my lips pursing as if that somehow helps my brain trudge along. “I guess I like to window shop at Anthropologie.” The stuff’s ridiculously expensive, though, so Inever buy anything. I leave that part out as I doubt he’d want to hear it.
“Good, that’s a start. Pull up the site, and I want to see your cart before you order. It had better be full, or I’m going to hire a personal shopper to do it for you.”
I stare blankly at him, not that he notices. He’s moved on to his cleaning ritual while my brain glitches. It does that a lot since meeting Tommy Donati.
Guess it’s time to shop. I click on everything that looks cute and add to cart. More things that I even want, but his edict seems to have called me out, so I’m apparently going to rise to the challenge. I’m so engrossed I don’t notice him approach until he taps the cart icon in the top right corner. My eyes dart to the total, and when I see a string of numbers totaling over thirteen thousand dollars, I suck in a lungful of air that was supposed to be a maniacal peal of laughter but ends up choking me instead. I launch into a coughing fit.
“Jesus, Dani. Try to breathe.” He pats my back—not at all helpful but still sweet. Once I’m no longer on the verge of dying, he drops the black credit card in my lap. “Looks good. Check out, and we’ll get ready for bed. I’m beat.” Then he walks away as though he didn’t just authorize me to charge a small fortune to his card. I can’t. There’s no way. Maybe I’ll just take a few items out—some of the high-dollar pieces.
I’m still gaping at him when he stops to peer over his shoulder at me. “And if the number on my card statement doesn’t match what I just saw on that screen, we’ll pick another store and start from scratch.”
Of course, he knew exactly what I was planning to do.
“Tommy! I can’t just—”
“You can, and you will.”
Bitch, listen to the man and buy the clothes.
I roll my eyes at my inner voice as if anyone asked her opinion.
“Where are you going?” I call after him.
He peers around the corner from the hallway, only meeting my gaze briefly. “I just have to check a few things. I’ll be right back.” Domineering Tommy from seconds ago is suddenly gone, a shy, almost embarrassed version of himself remaining.
I’m so confused. What is he doing that caused him to retreat into himself like that? There’s no way to know, so I don’t bother guessing. I use the credit card to complete my purchase and try not to think about how much money I just spent. When I’m done, I tie my hair on the top of my head for a quick rinse in the shower.
His shower allows for privacy, but I can’t stop thinking about what happens after. Do I towel off and dress in front of him, or do it hidden behind the shower wall? Will he even be in the bathroom when I get out? I’m swimming in questions and anticipation as I wash my face and body, so absorbed with my curiosity that I don’t realize until I turn off the water that Tommy never even waited until I was done.
He leans against the edge of the floating wall, just behind my towel hanging on a hook. His ravenous stare laps at the water dripping down my body. The sight is just as arousing as any touch could ever be. My inner muscles clench in my core while my nipples pebble as if trying to draw the rest of my body closer to him.
“You could have joined me,” I say in a sultry tone I hardly recognize.
