“You hate shopping.”
“Not this kind of shopping.” This time when he glances over he wears a grin.
“Which is?” I prompt him, still confused at this turn of events.
I was expecting a very early dinner at Flossie’s Apple Barrel—since for some reason Rafe hustled me out of the house at three—and whatever movies they were running at the drive-in this weekend. Heck, I even packed drinks and snacks in a cooler, and packed a blanket so we could watch from the back of his truck.
Apparently somewhere along the line shopping was added to the trip. Something he failed to tell me about.
“Bed shopping,” he announces.
“You know,” I start prickly, “it would help if you’d elaborate on what is going through your head, because as useful as it would be, I am not a mind reader.”
He chuckles at my snippy tone as he reaches for my hand and slides his fingers between mine. “I’m buying you a bed.”
“I have a bed,” I point out.
“It’s a queen and the mattress is lumpy.”
“It’s big enough for me and it’s comfy.”
“For you, but since I plan on spending time in it we need one bigger.”
“Rafe,” I get his attention to try and talk some sense into him. “You already have a big bed.”
“Taz,” he mimics me. “We’re getting rid of your bed, and my bed, and buying a bed for us.”
I remind him of our conversation last night. “I thought you said we’d wait until the time is right?”
“To knock walls down, yes. Right now the time is perfect to pick out a bed we both like, without the kids running interference.”
“You’re charging ahead,” I caution him, but he has an answer for that too.
“I’m planning ahead. Big difference.”
I give up. He’s wearing a smug grin; everything I say seems to bounce off. So I mumble the only thing one can in a situation like this.
“Whatever.”
I ignore his soft chuckle as he drives us to Mountain View to shop for a new bed.
We strike out at Anderson Home Furnishings, despite the very gung-ho and borderline harassing sales associate.
I ended up being marched right out the store after the guy—in all his eagerness to make a sale—decided to help me test the bed I was trying.
I felt almost bad for him when Rafe turned around from the mattress he’d been inspecting, and in two long strides stood beside us, growling at the man as he unceremoniously yanked me off the bed. The sales clerk must’ve recognized his mistake because he didn’t even bother to stop us when we walked straight out the door. Actually, Rafe stalked and I was almost running to keep up with him, all the time fighting to hold back the fit of giggles threatening to let loose. That would probably not have gone over well.
We get to our next stop in silence. It’s not until Rafe pulls into a parking spot out front of JB’s Beds that he speaks.
“Don’t wander off on your own.”
I probably should be insulted, but his comment sparks the bout of hilarity I’ve been suppressing. I toss my head back and crack up.
I was right, he doesn’t think it’s amusing, but that doesn’t stop the tears of laughter rolling down my cheeks.
“I don’t see what’s funny.”
“You are,” I finally manage, hiccupping. “With your generally laid-back attitude, you sure hid that alpha streak well.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grumbles, getting out of the truck.
That strikes me as funny too, but one look at the dark scowl on his face as he rounds the hood to get to my side, and I swallow it down. Discovering his mile-wide possessive streak is a shockingly pleasant surprise, but I’m smart enough not to poke the bear.
Too much.
Rafe
Well, that takes care of the date.
I’m more than merely annoyed at this chain of events.
First that snot-nosed punk crawling in bed with my woman. Then bumping in to Sheila fucking Quinn in the parking lot of JB’s Beds. I’d lowered Taz from the cab of the truck and pressed her against the side to kiss the laughter from her mouth, when the woman walked out of the salon right next to the mattress store. There was no doubt the queen of the Eminence gossip tree had caught our spirited lip-lock from the shocked expression on her face.
What the fuck are the odds?
To top it off, we discovered after Taz and I managed to agree on a mattress, frame, and headboard, that JB’s Beds was cash and carry only. There’s no way I’m going to the drive-in with a bed and mattress strapped to the bed of the truck.
“You know,” Taz carefully breaks my silent brood. “We can still go for dinner. We can ask for a table by the window so we can keep an eye on the truck while we eat.”
I immediately feel guilty for my foul mood. Taz has taken the events of this afternoon in stride, even the encounter with the gossip queen, merely rolling with the bumps. All I’ve done is get increasingly frustrated because things weren’t going to plan.
I take her hand and by way of apology press my lips to her palm. “After dinner we’ll go home, rent a few pay-per-view movies, and test the new mattress on the living room floor. Just the two of us.”
The response I get is a wide grin. “That sounds perfect.”
Flossie’s Apple Barrel is far from romantic gourmet fare, but the stick-to-your-ribs home cooking seems to fit both of us better.
When we get home just the two of us turns into four of us. I’d forgotten about Lilo and Stitch, who are thrilled we are home and waste no time trying out their new giant dog bed.
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” I admit, making Taz snicker again, which she’s been doing a lot of.
But this time I flop on my back on the mattress and laugh right along with her.
“Rafe?”
I direct my gaze from the scrolling movie credits on the screen down to where Taz’s head is resting on my shoulder, her face turned up. “Yeah, Sweets.”
“Do you think Sheila is going to spill the beans?”
I bend to press a kiss to her forehead before answering. “I think that’s pretty much guaranteed.”
“That means Mom and Dad will find out soon.”
“Very likely.”
“Shit.”
I roll us until she’s on her back and I’m leaning over her. “Most definitely, but maybe it’s better out in the open. Rip off the bandage so to speak.” I touch my hand to the side of her face and she leans into it.
“But the kids…”
“We’ll make sure they’re shielded. At least until we head up to go camping in two weeks. We’ll tell them ourselves then.”
“Aren’t you worried it’s too soon?”
My instinct is to evade the question, but I promised honesty. “It probably is, but…” I quickly add, “…these aren’t exactly normal circumstances. It’s not like they’ll be introduced to someone new they have to accept into their lives. You’re already in their lives. They already love you. When you think about it, little will change for them.”