Page 182 of Foreplay on Words
“You can add personal chef to that list too. I mean, if you’re making one,” I chuckled, knowing he was trying to use sarcasm to relax me. This guy knew it was one of my love languages.
“I’ll make sure to show them my apron.” He nodded, bringing one of my hands to his mouth for a kiss.
“And the spoon. Can’t forget that. It really completes the ensemble.”
“Well, we do have a box of them on this truck somewhere, so I can always hand them out as wedding favors. Tell them the bride specially designed it to make our wedding weekend memorable.”
During the downtime after my last book was published, I’d developed a bit of a habit of designing swag to give away at book signings. A wooden spoon with the words Please Spank Responsibly had been in one of my midnight online orders.
“Yes, I’m sure all your mother’s book club ladies would love to own one for themselves.”
The Snow Leopards were already on the guest list for the wedding because I knew they’d crash it if we didn’t invite them. Several of them had started following me on social media and regularly sent me testimonials about scenes from my books they’d tried in real life. It was humbling knowing your writing was the reason for someone’s Viagra prescription.
“Are you ready to get out of this truck yet?” he asked, his nose wrinkling. “I’ve been trying to breathe through my mouth for the last two hours, but this thing smells.”
“You mean dirty freight truck isn’t listed on your places to make romantic declarations?”
“Is that what you’re doing?” he laughed, reaching over to push his door open. “I thought you were having a freak out over the fact you think I’m not aware you’re a bit of a slob.”
“I prefer the term Spicy Disaster. Or maybe even Hot Mess. I’m not dirty; I’m just disorganized.”
“And if you think I didn’t know that before I put a ring on it, you’re delusional.” Evan hopped down from the truck and walked around to open my door, offering me his hand to climb down. “Let’s start getting these boxes into the garage while we still have daylight. I have plans for later.”
“What kind of plans?” I asked, following him to the back of the truck. He unlocked the rear sliding door and pushed it up, revealing the dozens of boxes I’d brought. Overall, it wasn’t a lot, but as he’d pointed out, my organizational skills were lacking. Maybe we should collaborate on that next.
“Talia sent me a box a few days ago before we left.”
“And you hid it from me?” How dare he. I thought it was agreed upon prior to our engagement that sex toys were communal property. We’d even written some of them off as business expenses. Research implements were an important part of our writing process.
“She told me it was an early wedding present.” He climbed into the back of the truck, carefully releasing the ropes that secured the boxes in place.
“That’s all you’re going to share?”
Evan grinned as he coiled the rope and tossed it to me where I stood outside the door. “And Emory tucked in some reading material as well. You up for trying out some Shibari?”
Was I ever.
“Fuck the boxes. Let’s go research our next book. I have a feeling it will take us a long, long time to master all those knots well enough to describe them.”
Evan shook his head as he handed me a box, nodding toward the open garage door. “Help me unload these, and I’ll even let you tie me up first.”
Fuck me. Living together was going to be fun.
The End
