Page 22 of About That Pact

“Debatable.”

In all fairness, it did cover her. Maybe his imagination got away from him when it came to her. Lately, the notion of anyone checking her out and trying to pick her up made him postal.

She tapped her hip to his. “The only thing we’re debating is furniture. Your last article was all about being a minimalist and sticking to plain white and black. I think it’s time for some color in your life.”

“It was a trend,” he lamely admitted as they walked into the store.

“Why follow a trend when you can start your own?” Charlotte glimpsed up at him.

Her smile lit up the room. He would do just about anything to make her smile. Since they’d put their rocky past behind them, each second they spent together made him want more of her time. She was smart and sexy. Mixed in with her sarcastic humor, he was becoming addicted to her. If that meant using favors to get her to be with him, he would.

“You should get that knitted on a pillow or something,” he murmured, guiding her to the escalator to look at the living room décor on the second floor.

“All I am saying is you have great taste. Don’t copy what displays are telling you to pay for, go with what you want surrounding you. That should be your next writing assignment. Go with your gut.” She giggled as they stepped off the escalator. “Let’s start with the couches.”

They moved to the living room department and sat on different couches to figure out which was more comfortable. “What if going with my gut gets me in trouble?”

She bounced on a red couch, and Rafe looked away. It was like watching every fantasy he had growing up. Hell, even now he fantasized about her. The last thing he needed was a hard-on all because the girl he’d wanted for years was testing out the comfort level of furniture. He had to get it together.

“Are we talking trouble with the police, trouble with other people, or trouble like you aren’t sure what the outcome will be so you’re risking getting hurt?” she asked, taking a picture of the retail tag of the red couch with her cell phone. “I think you should get this one. If you’re still looking to keep everything else in your living room black and white, this could be the splash of color you need. A conversation piece and your favorite color—there isn’t a bad outcome.”

“My trouble is the ladder with following your gut and perhaps getting hurt. And I agree with the couch. I need to get a throw rug and a coffee table too.”

“Off to the carpets,” she announced, grabbing his arm and towing him to the next department.

She was on a mission. Once she laid her eyes on the plush, deep gray rug, she pointed her cell phone at it to take a picture. “This would go with your color scheme.”

He nodded in agreement, still waiting for her answer about following his gut.

“Stop sulking,” she said, looping her arm through his. “I promise I have stellar advice about your dilemma. When it comes to following your gut, as long as you think it would be worth the risk, then why not go after it?”

They continued shopping, and all her furniture choices aligned with his taste. He now had a brand-new living room set to be delivered next week. His phone vibrated with a text.

“Will just text me,” Rafe told her as they walked out of the store. “He and Callie are having a Fourth of July party this weekend. Do you want to go?”

Her face shined with excitement. “And get another opportunity to bash you with your friends? Absolutely.”

“Why do I feel like I’ll regret introducing you to them?”

“You can’t take the invite back now. See you Saturday.”

Charlotte walked off to her car, and he couldn’t help but grin. Even if she planned to rag on him all day at Will’s party, it would be worth it.

He was following his gut.

WILL AND CALLIE had gone all out for their Fourth of July party. Their entire backyard was covered in decorations Callie vehemently declared her kids had put all the work into. She wasn’t fooling anyone. Charlotte had watched her fix the decorations a dozen times already while the kids played in the pool. This was all Callie’s brainchild.

Rafe was talking to a group of his friends, so Charlotte grabbed a lemonade and plate of food, and sat in a chair by the pool to relax in the sun. She was comfortable in her own skin and perfectly fine being on her own.

Melanie, Will and Callie’s eldest daughter, sprung out of the pool and sat on the chair next to Charlotte. She was nine years old with dirty blonde hair and light brown eyes that sparkled whenever she spoke.

“Uncle Rafe said I can call you Charlie,” she told her, very matter of fact. Like whatever Uncle Rafe said was the rule of the land.

“Did he now?” Charlotte gave the girl her attention. She loved his connection with his best friend’s kids. It was obvious he spent a good amount of time with them. “Do you listen to everything your Uncle Rafe tells you?”

She bounced in her seat. “Of course. He is the most funniest person ever. The last time he babysat me and my brothers, he let us build forts inside, stay up past eight, and we had ice cream sundaes before we ate dinner.”

Melanie’s eyes widened when she realized what she’d said.. “You can’t tell my mom or dad. They’ll get mad.”