Page 154 of Until Joy

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, the front door was opening and Graham's voice was calling out.

“Joy? You home?”

“In the living room,” I called back, grinning as I heard his footsteps stop abruptly.

“My God, woman. Did you buy out the store?”

I peeked over the back of the sofa to see Graham standing in the doorway, staring at the transformed room with his mouth slightly open.

“You had a lot of space to fill,” I laughed.

He walked around the sofa slowly, taking in every detail of the room. His fingers trailed over the soft fabric of the sofa cushions, and he tested the firmness of the armrest.

“You actually bought furniture,” he said in wonder.

“We bought furniture. It was your credit card.”

“Joy, this is...” He sat down heavily beside me, his hand coming up to cup my face. “This is incredible.”

“You like it?”

“I love it.” He kissed me softly. “I love that you made this place feel like home.”

“Our home,” I corrected.

“Our home.” His voice went rough on the words. “How was I so lucky to find you?”

“Mutual luck.” I curled up against his side, breathing in his familiar scent. “How was your emergency at the shop?”

Graham's body went tense. “My what?”

I looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “Your emergency. You know, the one that was so urgent you had to abandon me in the middle of furniture shopping.”

He sighed, his arm tightening around me. “There was no emergency.”

“I kind of figured that out.”

“You did?”

“You damn near skipped out of the store like a little girl,” I giggled.

Graham threw back his head and laughed. “Nice visual. You're not mad?”

“I'm not mad.” I shifted so I could see his face properly. “But you owe me.”

“What kind of owing are we talking about?”

I slipped my leg over his thighs, settling myself in his lap. His hands immediately went to my waist, and I felt him go still beneath me.

“The kind where I get to torture you for abandoning me with throw pillow decisions.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Instead of answering, I leaned forward and kissed him. Soft at first, just a brush of lips, then deeper when he opened for me. His hands fisted in the fabric of his t-shirt at my back, but he let me control the pace.

When I pulled back, his breathing was already uneven.

“You know,” I said, trailing my fingers down the front of his shirt, “we should probably test out our new furniture.”