Page 112 of Renard's Deliverance

“We’ve already had this conversation, Gem.”

They had?

“We have? Was I there for that conversation?” She put her hands on her hips, staring up at him as the guy handed over the receipt.

“Uh, here you go, sir.”

“Yeah, the conversation where we agreed that I was a guy.” He took the receipt and started pushing the cart out to his truck.

“That’s it? You’re a guy so you pay?”

“Yep.”

“But that makes no sense! This stuff is for my place, not yours. I mean, maybe if you were buying the sanders because you needed them it would be a different story, but?—”

“Fine, I am.”

“Oh, you are. Really?” she asked as they got to his truck.

“No, Gem. Not really. What would I need a sander for? I rent an apartment that I don’t like being in, why would I want to spend more time being in it?”

“Is it really that bad?” she asked.

“Yep. You ever see my apartment and you won’t like being in it either.”

“Well, now I need to see your apartment.” She was kind of upset that she hadn’t seen his apartment. Why hadn’t he invited her over? “How come I’ve never seen your apartment?”

He had finished loading up the back of his truck and now he turned her. “Are you mad because you haven’t seen my apartment?”

Was she?

Kind of.

“Um, yeah.”

“Fine, you can come see it whenever you want. Nothing to see and you will be disappointed.”

“I just think that when you’re dating you should see where the other person lives.”

“Right. Get in the truck, Gem.” He walked around to open the front passenger door.

“I still think that I should pay,” she told him as she pulled herself into her seat.

“And I know that you’re my woman and while you’re my woman, you don’t pay for shit. And you don’t push me on that stuff.” He grabbed the seatbelt and pulled it over her before buckling her in.

Um.

What just happened?

“Did you just buckle me in?”

“Yep.” He tugged on the seatbelt, then shut the door.

The man was nuts. And yet she’d never felt so cared for as she did right then.

As they were driving to her place, they saw a car on the side of the road with two teenage boys staring down at the flat tire.

“Jesus,” Renard muttered as they approached.

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