“Butter chicken,” I told him.
“Noted,” he said.
“Or chicken tikka masala,” I shared.
“Right.”
“Or chicken korma,” I said.
“Rosie—”
“Or shrimp biryani.And onion bhaji, mushroom bhaji, tikkaskewers, samosas.Anything with paneer in it.I also like keema.And don’tforget the pilau rice, naan and papadums.”
I shut up.
Snap stared at me.
I continued to be silent.
“You done?”he asked.
“Aloo gobi,” I said quietly.
He busted out laughing.
He gave me a quick kiss on the lips still doing it, andcontinuing to do it, he pulled away and asked, “What do you want me to make youfor breakfast?”
“LaMar’s,” I shared.
He shook his head, still laughing, and also asking, “You gotone or two choices to give me or do Igottagetthrough another recitation?”
“Buttermilk glazed or Bavarian cream.”
“Gotcha,” he said, gave me another quick kiss, then rolledaway.
I watched his ass as he got out of bed and I watched a lotof things as he walked around the end of it to the bathroom, all of themawesome.
Then I lay on my new mattresses (that Snapper gave me) andlooked to the ceiling of my bedroom in my new house (that Snapper gave me).
And I thought,What the hell am I doing?
I knew.
But I didn’t know.
I knew it was right.
And I was terrified it was wrong.
I wanted to grab hold to all that had been given to me (andmy mom) from the instant we walked into this carriage house.
And I felt fear tearing into me that if I did, I’d finallyhave it all again.
Which meant having everything to lose…
Again.
Chapter Six
