Page 386 of The Tempted

Sweet.

I hated when he was sweet.

It made me hopeful.

I stepped aside, getting out of the way and kicked the door open wide, just in case they got that monster of a fridge up the tiny stairwell.

Bones pushed. Riggs groaned. They both cursed their lives, the refrigerator and life in general, and by some miracle of God they managed to get it up the stairs with only clipping off a part of the bannister.

“Who’s the fucking man?” Riggs asked, grinning.

“Not you, asshole,” Bones replied as they moved into the apartment.

“Riggs,” I started, trying to warn him that his favorite person was sitting inside.

“Tell me I’m the man, Kitten,” he winked.

“You’re the man, but—” I was cut off.

“Well if it isn’t “Johnny Appleseed” himself,” my mother taunted.

“For fuck’s sake,” Riggs groaned.

“Mrs. Bianci, how are you?” Bones asked, wearing a shit eating grin.

My mother huffed as they pushed the fridge into its rightful spot in the kitchen, inspecting it for any damage.

“Does it meet your approval?” Riggs questioned, brushing his hands on his jeans before he plugged it in.

“You should’ve bought a Maytag,” she snarled, grabbing her purse off the counter. She walked over and kissed my cheek. “If you need me, call,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Riggs. “And don’t forget, you don’t need this guy to do what you have to do,” she turned her eyes back to me. “You’ve got your family,” she said, giving me one more kiss and pressing her hand against my flat stomach. “I can’t believe my baby’s having a baby,” she whispered, before she dropped her hand and started for the door.

“Always a pleasure,” Riggs called out as she reached the door.

My mother paused at the door, lifting her middle finger to him before she walked out.

“I think she’s warming up to me,” Riggs said.

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Bones said, dropping onto the couch. “Looks good Lauren,” he commented, glancing around the bare apartment.

“It does?” I asked, my eyes following Riggs as he inspected the changes to his apartment. I waited for his face to change, for the anxiety to set into his features but he remained indifferent.

“Still doesn’t look lived in,” Riggs added.

“She just moved in,” Bones argued.

Riggs turned around. “You’re going to need more furniture and I’ve got a few televisions I’ll hang up,” he rattled off, pulling off his hat and running his fingers through his hair.

“It’s fine. There’s no hurry to get anything,” I started.

“I want you to be comfortable,” he argued. “And when the kid comes, I want him to have a normal home,” he declared, reaching into his pocket.

I wanted to ask him what his definition of a normal home was, because normal was what you made of it. Pea needed a loving home, not one stocked with flat-screen televisions.

He produced his credit card from his wallet and handed it to me.

“What’s this?” I shook my head. “I mean, I know what it is but why are you giving it to me?”

“I want you to fix this place up however you want,” he said.

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