She held up the invitation in illustration. “It’s easy. You make a bunny ear, go over, go under, around, and through. See?”
Fuckin’ serious? “I know how to tie my shoes, V. How’d you do it so easy? Around the card?”
“Luck?” Apparently, it was no big deal to her.
“You’re in charge of ribbons. I’ll put on the stamps.”
“You’re not using the Love stamps?” She nodded to the stack of American flag stamps he’d picked up earlier.
“What the fuck are Love stamps?”
“They’re the stamps with hearts and they usually have ‘love’ written on them. They coordinate better. I’m pretty sure that’s what Claire wants.”
The stamps he’d grabbed had Old Glory blowing in the wind. Fuck. Aspen’s notes said nothing about special stamps.
“A stamp’s a stamp.” He stuck a stamp on the corner of an envelope. “They’re patriotic.”
Velma didn’t look convinced.
“You might want to make that a little straighter.” Velma reached for the stamp and peeled it off, repositioning it exactly where he’d put it before.
“That’s how I had it.”
“Yours was crooked.”
The zombies on TV were more and more interesting. “You gonna yap the entire show?”
“No. But don’t you want to put on a shirt?” She waved a hand at his bare chest.
Sprawled out on the couch, he pressed more patriotism onto the froufrou envelopes. “I’m good. But if you’re uncomfortable, you can always take off your top. Won’t bother me.”
A frustrated gurgling, gagging noise came from her throat. Still, she settled against the throw pillow beside her. Fuckin’ cute.
“Velma?”
“Hmm?”
“What happened to that picture over the fireplace? The one with the pansy-ass dude dancing with the hot chick showin’ off her legs?”
“Okay, one, that was a limited-edition Jack Vettrianosignedprint. Two, the dude was not pansy-ass. And three, the woman’s dress was appropriately modest for living room art.”
Living room art had a modesty level?
“Where’d it go?” he asked.
Blanket readjusted, she continued, “I bought it as an investment a while back. I finally found a buyer for it.”
They settled in and finished the invitations. One episode morphed into two, and two into three. She stretched out on her side and yawned. Turned out Velma liked zombies after all. She didn’t talk the whole way through the show, either.
Her feet crept closer and closer to his cutoff-sweatpants-covered thigh. He took a breath and focused on the images on the television.
This was not a date. Running his hand along her calves would probably land him out on his ass without a place to live.
So, he refrained from touching her. Barely.
Chapter Five
Countdown to Claire & Dean’s Wedding: 7 Weeks
