“Hey, yourself.” He wrapped his arms around me. “Drive was okay?”
“Yep.”
“Did you do the speed limit?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Papa Biker. I did the speed limit.”
“What did I tell you about that nickname?”
“You had a problem with Biker Baby Daddy. Papa Biker is like a hot version of Papa Smurf. Don’t lie. You love the name and want me to call you that all the time.”
“Woman,” he warned.
“Don’twomanme. I’ve been driving since I was sixteen.”
He leaned down and captured my lips, silencing the both of us. I pressed into him, not caring that we were making out in the parking lot of Folson’s department store.
When I pulled back, I was breathless. “Why did you want to come to Folson’s? It’s a haul and a half from Waco.”
“Doc told me Folson’s was the best. Mia agreed.”
“Doc? Oh, you mean Linden?” I nibbled on my lip. “So they, ah, know? That we’re moving in together?”
“Yup.” He took my hand. “Don’t be surprised if they call you in a few days, inviting you to hang out.”
I warmed at the thought. “That’ll be nice.”
He opened the door for me, and we went into the department store. Folson’s was like Nordstrom on crack. It was beautiful and elegant. Slash, with his leather cut and ink snaking up his forearms, looked out of place.
Luckily, the beautiful blond sales associate was a true professional. “Hello, how may I help you?”
Slash looped his arm around my shoulder.
“We’re looking to buy furniture,” I explained, wanting to sink even deeper into his side.
“Bedroom? Living room? Kitchen?”
“Er, yes,” I said.
She beamed. “Follow me. My name’s Debbie.”
“Hi, Debbie. I’m Brooklyn. This is Slash.”
“Welcome to Folson’s. Let me know if you need any help. I’ll be close by if you have any questions.” She waved her hand toward the furniture floor.
“Thank you,” I said, my eyes taking in all the furniture setups.
“You lead the way,” Slash said to me.
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” He grinned. “Whatever you want you get.”
“You’re living in this house, too, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you get a say.”