She narrows her eyes at me. “I only barge in on my friends, duh.”
She spins back around, already moving on, stomping her feet.
I follow because I can’t not. That’s the thing about her, I’ll follow her anywhere, even into hell, or Home Depot on a Sunday.
She stops at a row of mirrors next, picking up one with a gilded frame, holding it against the wall, then spins to face me with a triumphant smile. “This one. It’ll make me look like a goddess when I’m putting on eyeliner.”
“You already look like one, darlin’,” I say before I can stop myself.
She blinks, her smile wavering, cheeks flushing.
Just as quickly, she recovers, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Flattery will not get you out of this, cowboy. We’re buying it.”
I grunt, shoving the cart closer so she can drop the mirror in.
Half an hour later, the cart is loaded down with a sink, two cabinet doors she swears she’ll decide between later, and at least three mirrors. She’s glowing, laughing as she pushes her sunglasses up her nose, and I don’t care that I’m spending my first day as a married man in a hardware store.
Because Catalina’s happy, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted.
She hooks her arm through mine as we walk toward the checkout, leaning her head on my shoulder. “See? Best honeymoon ever.”
I shake my head, but the truth is, she’s right.
The cashier scans the third mirror, since my wife apparently can’t settle on one piece of glass, and I hand over my card as Catalina beams beside me.
“Congratulations,” the kid behind the register says as he bags a box of cabinet hardware. “You guys newlyweds?”
Catalina flashes her ring, practically shoving her hand in the poor guy’s face. “Fuck yeah, I’m married!”
I grunt, signing the receipt, and catch the way the cashier’s ears go pink under her smile.
“Lucky man,” he says.
“Damn right,” I mutter, shooting him a look that makes him suddenly very interested in the receipt paper.
Catalina giggles all the way out to the truck, clutching my arm.
I load everything into the truck bed and get behind the wheel. She’s kicked off her sandals, curled her legs under her, and is watching me with that smug little smile that means trouble.
“You were jealous,” she singsongs, leaning her head back against the seat.
I shoot her a look as I pull out of the lot. “Jealous of a kid who probably still lives in his mama’s basement? Not a chance.”
“You growled at him.”
“I didn’t growl.”
“You did,” she grins, tugging her seatbelt into place. “It was very caveman. Very ‘back off, she’s mine.’ So hot.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and she’s damn near glowing in the passenger seat.
“Catal-,”
“You love me.”
I flick my eyes toward her, taking in her smirk, the bow slipping loose in her hair, and the way sunlight cuts across her bare legs.
My pretty darlin’, fuck, she’s so beautiful.
