Page 62 of Guarding Glenda

“Good morning,” he mumbled as he pulled me closer against him.

“Good morning. What time is it?” I asked, just thinking aloud. I reached over to check my phone since the clock was on his side. “Nine. Dang.”

He tucked his face through my hair and nipped at my neck. “Mmm, I gotta let Bruce out. I’ll make some coffee.”

“I set the timer last night,” I told him as he climbed from the bed and walked to the bathroom. I grimaced at the marks on his back. Fucking Hammer.

The door was cracked. “You mean take the fun out of my morning suffering while I wait?”

I stretched then sat up. “I don’t like waiting.”

He walked back over, leaned down, and kissed my temple. “Well, I’ll go get you a mug ready.”

I climbed from bed, went to the restroom, then met him in the kitchen. Boxes still littered the living room. It wasn’t many, but enough to be noticeable.

He handed me a mug then opened the back door and we went out to sit.

“Brr,” I said as I climbed into his lap. “It got chilly.”

“Hop up.”

I stood up and he went back inside. I walked to the railing and looked over. Bruce was sniffing around, marking his spot.

“Here,” Leigh said behind me.

Turning around, I grinned. He’d grabbed a hoodie. “Thank you.”

“Mmhhmm.”

I put it on and he sat, so I took my spot again, sitting sideways so we could chat.

“What’s on the agenda today?” I asked.

“You’re gonna call the shrink lady. Other than that, nothing for today. Hammer said to be on standby, though.”

“Okay. I need to get those boxes put away. Where do you want me to put them? Also, I think I’ll cook today. Maybe Philly cheesesteaks? I don’t want those hoagie buns to go bad.”

He squeezed me. “Slow down, woman. What do you mean?”

“When you get bread from the deli area, it goes bad faster. Also, maybe Linny and them can come for dinner. I miss Sofie.”

He moaned. “I meant the boxes. Why aren’t you unpacking them?”

“Oh. Well, it’s my stuff, so…”

He put his mug down, both arms wrapping around me. “Glenda, you’re my woman. This is your home now. You don’t need to shove your shit into a closet. Unpack your clothes, hang ‘em up, put ‘em in the drawers, whatever you normally do. All your little trinkets or whatever, find a place for them. All your bathroom stuff, put it where you can get it easily.” He gripped my chin, his dark eyes studying my face. “Move in and toss the boxes.”

“Oh.”

He grinned. “Do I need to put your name on the title, or something? When I told you I wanted you here, I meant literally. I want you to live with me, with us,” he said as Bruce came moseying up the stairs.

I was going to keep arguing that I could just get out my clothes, or even just a few things.

He jiggled my chin a little. “Is that okay? That I want you to live here?”

Shrugging, I said, “I’m just not used to that. As a kid, I didn’t have much, anyway. In the military, we didn’t get to really have a lot of personal stuff around. And then when we were moving place to place before we got the clubhouse, it was just easier to keep it boxed up.”

“Did you not unpack at the clubhouse?”