“So, you don’t want to talk me into marrying you?”
I shake my head, staring up at her like a puppy.
“You’re not going to hold it over my head and refuse intimacy until I cave to what you want?”
“No.”
“You’re not going to keep asking me again and again?”
“No.”
“You’re going to stop being stupid?”
I grin. “I don’t know about that one.”
“You have testicles,” she says, and she shrugs. “I can’t have it all, can I?” She sinks down onto her knees in front of me. She bites her lower lip and stares at me.
“Say it,” I coax.
She goes back to glaring at me. “Say what?”
“Whatever you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking that my knees are uncomfortable on this f**king floor, and I’m wondering how long you’re going to f**king make me stay down here.”
I laugh. God, she’s so contrary!
She takes my face in her hands. “Tonight, can I make you dinner?” she asks.
My heart does that pitter-patter thing again. “Like a date?”
She rocks her head back and forth like she’s weighing her words. “I guess you could call it a date.”
“Then yes, I’d love that.” Then I remember. “But I have Hayley tonight.”
She brightens. “Good.” She kisses me quickly and grins. “Because that’s about as close to a threesome as you’ll ever get with me.” She points to the floor. “Can I get up now?” she asks.
“Get the f**k up,” I growl. I get to my feet, too. She falls against me and wraps her arms around my waist.
“So does this mean that you don’t want to marry me?” she asks, her voice muffled against my chest. Her words touch the tattoo I just got, and it stings a little. But I don’t pull back. I don’t want her to see it yet.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t say the opposite.”
I set her back a little and look down into her upturned face. “Are you telling me you do want to marry me?”
She shakes her head and jabs a finger at me. “But I want to leave the door open.”
Oh, holy hell. She’s opening a f**king door and I didn’t even have to threaten her or withhold anything or torment her in any way. I might pass out.
“Okay,” I say.
“And Paul,” she says. “Don’t ever do that on-your-knees thing again unless you’re down there licking my pu**y because it weirds me the f**k out.”
A grin tugs at my lips, even though I want to look fierce. Finally, I have to toss my head back and laugh.
She squeezes me one last time and walks back into the work area. I see Logan reach up and high-five her.
“What was that for?” she asks.
Logan grins. “I got cuddled last night.”
“Because I rock,” she says, and she high-fives him again. He grins at me at the back of the shop and shakes his head.
He jerks his thumb toward her and signs to me, She’s a good one.
I saw that! Friday signs dramatically at him.
I meant for you to! he signs back with just as much force.
Friday
I like bustling around Paul’s kitchen. And I like it even more when he walks up behind me and wraps his arms around me while I’m standing at the stove. He pretends like he’s going to try to steal a piece of chicken from the pasta, but he presses his lips to my shoulder and lingers, his hot breath blowing across my neck. I reach up and wrap my hand around his neck and bring him down so I can kiss him. Then he pops the chicken into his mouth and grins.
“That’s pretty good,” he says, nodding.
I roll my eyes. “Glad you like my chicken.”
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about the chicken,” he says, letting his eyes roam up and down my body. My ni**les go hard, and my heartbeat thrums.
The door opens, and he doesn’t spring away from me. He stands beside me like he belongs there. Hayley comes running in the door wearing a pink tutu and ballet slippers with some awesome pink tights. She launches herself into Paul’s arms, and he dances around the kitchen with her. I love watching him like this.
Kelly comes in last, and she looks a little harried as she blows hair out of her eyes. “I’m in a big hurry,” she says, throwing Hayley’s bag down. Her gaze meets mine, and she smiles. “Oh, hi, Friday,” she says. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Paul talks around another piece of chicken that he stole. “She lives here,” he says. “Like my girlfriend.” He winks at me. “All the time.”
My face goes hot. A cloud passes over Kelly’s face, and she turns and smiles at me again. I can tell she doesn’t want to, but she does try. “So happy for you,” she says. She motions Hayley forward, and she gives her a quick hug. Suddenly, she stands up and puts her hand on Hayley’s head, petting her like she’s a dog. “Someone got in trouble at ballet for dropping the f-bomb,” she says.
Paul’s face falls. He looks over the counter and into his daughter’s face. “You dropped an f-bomb?”
Hayley looks up into Kelly’s face, her brows furrowed. “I didn’t drop a bomb. I just called the teacher a fu—”
Kelly slaps a hand over her mouth. “You don’t need to repeat it. We get the idea.” She looks at Paul. “Talk to her?”