“What are we looking for? A house or an apartment? Because I don’t think an apartment’s gonna let us install my stripper pole,” I joke to keep myself from asking a whole bunch of questions.
“Probably a house.”
Oh, that’s big time, setting-down-roots type of commitment. “Where do you want to look?” I whisper.
His serious eyes search my face. “You tell me.”
The weight of what he’s offering hovers in the air.
“Your club’s in New York. Don’t you need to be there at some point?”
“Yeah,” he answers slowly.
“So, we’ll look in New York.”
Tension eases out of his posture. Shoulders and jaw relaxing. That’s the answer he was hoping for and I’m happy to give it to him.
Truth is, I’d go to the ends of the Earth to be with Logan.
Chapter Fifty
Rooster
Fuck am I glad we’re finally on the same page.
“I don’t want to do long distance, Shelby. I can’t. I hated being away from you, even though I knew it wasn’t long. I know you need to be able to record or whatever—”
“I’ve been lookin’ up studios,” she says. “There’s a great one in New York. It’s maybe an hour north of your club. Plus, Woodstock isn’t far…”
My heart’s slamming at what she’s saying. She’s given this more than a few seconds of thought. “Everyone says to be a country artist, Nashville’s where it’s at.”
“It is. And for certain things, I’ll probably have to be here. But the rest of the time—when I’m not on the road—I want to be where you are. You shouldn’t have to give up everything.”
Thank fuck. “You’ll move to New York with me?”
She touches my cheek. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“You were waiting for me to ask?”
“Well,” she sits up, “I didn’t want you to think I was being clingy. It’d be rude if I invited myself to move two thousand miles into your home.”
I bust up laughing and pull her into my arms. “You nut. Instead of calling you chickadee, I oughta call you glue, so you understand how much I want you to stick with me.”
It’s a good thing Jiggy’s not around. He’d definitely bust my balls for staring at the ring Shelby gave me like a lovesick newlywed.
The thought she put into buying me something that represented not only us but my club rocked me down to my soul. Damn, I can’t wait to see her wearing my property patch.
Also, can’t help being amused at how much we’re on the same page. Her wandering universe ring is burning a hole in my pocket more than ever. But I’m still waiting for the right time.
My phone buzzes and I pick it up.
Jiggy: You pop the question yet?
Jesus, it really is like he can read my mind sometimes.
Me: No. I’d like it to be a surprise. Forget you know about it.
Jiggy: What about the awards show?
Me: Nah, it’s her night.
Yeah, she’ll be all dressed up and stuff, but proposing on the night of her awards show when she’ll be so stressed out and nervous feels like a douche move. Like I’m trying to steal her thunder and make the night about me when it’s supposed to be about her. No way. When the time’s right, it’ll come to me.
“What’s this?” Shelby yawns as she strolls into the kitchen.
I swipe out of my text screen and turn off my phone. “Breakfast. You need to eat before your session, right?”
Her lips curve into a sultry smile. “We did skip dinner last night.”
“Kiss me, then I’ll feed you.”
She hurries over and wraps her arms around me. I hug her back and we stay like that for a few heartbeats. “You feel so good in my arms, chickadee.”
“You too,” she murmurs.
I lean down and brush my lips over hers. “Ready for today?”
“I think so. I’m not sure if Angelina’s back yet.”
Frowning, I glance toward the front door. Shit, totally forgot Angelina was staying with Shelby.
“She wanted to give us privacy,” Shelby explains.
“Good call.”
I release her and she sets the table for us while I finish making breakfast.
“Bacon and eggs?” Her eyes widen as I drop a few crispy slices on her plate.
“One thing I can reliably make.”
“Hmm.” She watches me with a thoughtful expression while munching on a slice of bacon. “Good to know. I’m used to eating at work. Or my momma cooks for us. Sorry to say, I never paid a lot of attention in the kitchen. I make great cheeseburgers and can throw together some nice summer salads, sweat tea, and simple stuff like that…” Her voice trails off.
“Are you auditioning to be my chef or something?” I sit in the chair across from her.
“Well,” she glances at her plate and pokes at her scrambled eggs, “we talked about living together…”
“We’re both adults. I’m sure we can figure out how to feed ourselves.”
“Aren’t you used to the girls at the clubhouse cooking for you and stuff?”
I pin her with a hard stare. “You’re not a club girl.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She drums her fingers over the table, clearly annoyed with me. “I’m trying to discuss the division of labor like an adult.”
My own temper flares. I open my mouth, then close it as her words sink in. Didn’t she tell me her dad was a lazy piece of shit who came home from work and expected to be waited on?
“Hey.” I reach across the table and rest my hand over hers. “I’m not a ‘fetch me a beer’ kind of guy.” I tap my fork against the edge of my plate. “I’m a grown-ass man who can feed myself if I’m hungry.” I brush my knuckles over her cheek. “Who also wants to take care of his woman when she’s had a long day.”
She ducks her head, a shy smile spreading over her face. “You make my girly bits tingle every time you call me your woman in that way.”
I fight my own smile. “What way is that?”
“A little bit sweet. A little bit savage. Like you might toss me over your shoulder and carry me back to your cave.”
She’s totally serious and probably not far off the mark. I bite the inside of my cheek and try not to laugh. “I’m not an asshole looking for a mommy or a bangmaid, Shelby. I’m not a slob, either. I don’t think we’ll have issues dividing the labor.”
While I’m mildly annoyed she’s worried about me turning into a jerk just because we’re living together, I respect the fuck out of her for wanting to discuss our expectations ahead of time. All I care about is spending every second with her. She’s trying to make sure we’re both happy. We’re a damn good team.
“Hello!” The front door thunks shut. “Yoohoo! Is it safe to come in?”
“We’re in the kitchen!” Shelby yells.
Angelina appears in the doorway and wiggles her fingers at us. “Hey, Rooster. How was your ride?”