Page 9 of Chasing Fireflies

“I got the job,” I tell Sara as we sit on the floor in front of the couch. We’ve unpacked the whole house, and our coffee table is filled with things we both love. Beef jerky has made my teeth hurt, and Sara’s hands are buttered up from popcorn.

“I figured you would,” she says, wiping her fingers off.

“Well, aren’t you going to say congratulations?” I ask. She sighs and tosses the kitchen towel onto the table.

“Is this what you want, Cash?”

My eyes look over when a soft curl falls from behind her ear.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Well, then congratulations.” She unfolds her legs and stands up.

“Where are you going?” I ask as she walks away from me.

“I want a shower.”

“Are you mad, Sara?” I stand, too. She doesn’t respond, and I watch her walk up the stairs.

“Baby,” I call, following her. “Sara, I want you to be okay with this. I need you to be okay with this.”

“I’m fine!” she yells and shuts the bathroom door harder than I’d like. I decide to follow some more. The sound of running water flows through my ears when I come near the door. I tap on it.

“Can we talk about this?”

“No.” I hear, and as I go to twist the doorknob, the door flies open. “You know what?” she says and my eyes look down at her in nothing but boy shorts and a black bra. “I’ve changed my mind. We can talk about this.” Mad love rushes past me, and I turn around. “You never even discussed this with me,” she says, pacing back and forth. “You didn’t say, ‘Sara, when we move I’m going to get another cop job.’ You just stuck your head right out of that stupid window and asked the chief if he was hiring. I wasn’t even included in the conversation, Cash. You act as if I’m a child. I am an adult, baby. A grown woman!” she yells.

“I know that.”

“Oh, you know, do you?” she replies, all smart-ass. “If you know I’m a grown woman, then why don’t you treat me as one? I’m sick, Cash, not stupid.”

“I’ve never called you stupid,” I say, deadpan.

“You don’t have to.” She crosses her arms. I step toward her, and she steps back.

“Sara.”

“Cash,” she replies, turning her head sideways and lifting her brow. I step forward again, and she moves her foot back.

“Stop moving away from me.”

“I don’t think so, Mr. Deputy. I think I will move away from you, and I think I’ll sleep away from you, too.”

I know wrinkles are now on my forehead, and I narrow my eyes. “So, you’re not going to sleep in the same bed as me?”

“Nope. You, my husband, will sleep on the couch down there with the mice!” she says, likeha!

“Oh, really?” I question with a lift of my brow line. This time she narrows her eyes when I step forward again.

“Cash,” she warns and backs up two steps.

“Where are you going?” I ask her as I step forward again. I see it when her emotions betray her, and a small smile tugs at the corners of her lips. I launch forward, and she squeals as she takes off running. I chase her down the stairs and grab her just as she turns into the kitchen. “Don’t ever run from me, Sara.”

“Put me down.”

“Nope.” I smack her ass and set her down on the table. Putting my arms at her sides, I cage her in and search her pretty blues.

“I’m sorry,” I say. She goes to speak, and I quickly put my finger over her lips. She clamps her mouth shut. “From now on, I won’t do things without discussing them with you first.”

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