I turn and stalk toward her. I put my hands on her biceps and grip just barely.
She doesn’t pull away, but I can see she’s about to tell me off. The urge to kiss the words out of her gorgeous mouth is strong, but I ignore it.
“I’m not going to help with the house,” I say quickly. “I’m also not going to rip you a bloody new one for living in a house without heating, even though I really, really want to. But I am, as your friend and your contractual husband, and technically your boss,” her eyes go wide and I lean in until our breaths dance dangerously together. My voice lowers at the proximity, “Oh yes, darling, I’m going there. I’m pulling the boss card. All my cards. Because Iwillbe buying you new clothes.” I lean back a bit to look at her. “New boots, thicker coats, warm sweaters. Hell, you can take my card and get it all by yourself if you want, but you are going to get new things. With my money.” She starts to protest but I lean down again, closer still to her full, pink lips. More dangerous. More tempting. I grit my teeth, and almost growl the words, “Right bloody now.”
“F-fine.” She says, eyes still locked on mine.
I nod but don’t back away.
Even a bit worse for wear, she smells divine. I want to inhale her. I want to hug her. I think I’d like to bite that sass right off her bottom lip.
But I finally release her instead.
“Let’s go shop then.”
19
BEN
“Right. So is the goal to get the most apples or the best-looking ones?” I ask.
“Boss, for the millionth time, this one isn’t a contest. We just pick apples.”
“Why?” I frown.
“For fun, of course,” she says, with zero enthusiasm. I mirror her disgruntled expression as she goes on. “I know, it’s a weird tradition but they’re supposed to be super fresh right off the tree. Plus, when we see them at home we can think, ‘look, I picked that.’”
“And that is supposed to be superior to ‘look, I DoorDashed that?’” I ask.
She laughs.
Hell, yes.Score another one for me.
She laughed all night long last night at stupid Ameri-Mart. I cannot believe we bought out the entire women’s section of that store for so few dollars. But I suppose I can. Not exactly the finest quality. Still, Janie was happy and the press ate up every moment of us shopping, quote,Like real people.After our experience at what’s called Self-Checkout I’m not sure I want to be “real people.”
I went along with it at Janie’s insistence but also had Samantha pick some designer clothes for her as an “early Christmas gift.” The woman needs a real winter coat, for one thing. And real boots with Italian leather.
Honestly.
She laughed over dinner too. Only called me gross once. Only rolled her eyes twice. I was starting to think maybe she’s growing friendly, fond of me even. But when we arrived home after our shopping she said she was tired and disappeared into the guest bedroom without so much as a “Goodnight.” And this morning she only appeared downstairs in time for one grunt over coffee before it was time for this activity.
Two steps forward and a few back, I suppose.
And, I don’t need her to be fond of me, right? Right.
I just want to be a good friend. I’m keeping up my end.
“Eh, we’ll just do it for the photos,” she says, handing me a big basket.
“Speaking of,” I start, wagging my eyebrows. She just glares at me, clearly not looking forward to our planned kiss. We agreed we needed to get at least one mouth-on-mouth image in circulation. Even Dad asked me about some sort of trouble in paradise afterthe neck incident.“Come on, let’s find the best spot.”
“I mean, there are a few of those,” she points to a photo backdrop set up for families and those Instagram influencer people.
“No, not that,” I say.
“Okay, then where?”
I smirk at her, “I’ll know it when I see it. Something that will look real.”
