Page 44 of Double Trouble

“I wouldn’t,” I reassure him, then I tug him down the small hallway. I check the first door, which is a bathroom, so I close that and take him to the next door, which is a closet. He laughs as I search my way for his room. By the time we get there, he’s cracking up.

“I live in a studio,” he says. “Not like there are many places a room can be.”

“Maybe I wanted to prolong my time with you,” I quip, even if it wasn’t the case at all. He gives me a look that says yeah okay, and I push him onto the bed. I tuck him in tight, sliding my fingers against his side and locking the comforter around his frame. He lets me be ridiculous.

“Goodnight, boyfriend.” I give him a kiss to his forehead, and since his arms are pinned under the covers, he can’t reach up to keep me there. Part of my evil plan. “I’ll see you tonight?”

He nods. “You coming before closing or do we need to be bad again?”

Probably bad, considering the schedule I’ve got going today. “I’ll keep you updated.”

I brush his hair from his face and reach forward and close his blinds. It doesn’t help much, but it keeps some daylight out. “Get some sleep. I plan on keeping you up late again.”

“How am I supposed to sleep knowing that?”

Hawk jumps up on the bed and takes a spot right on his chest. He gives me the butt again.

I shake my head and pet the guy. “All right, mister. You can have him for now, but he’s mine later.”

Tanner raises a brow. “Fighting with my cat?”

“It’s between us, boyfriend. Don’t you worry about it.”

I push from the bed and blow him a kiss. If I don’t leave now, I probably won’t ever. And I really need to call Pete.

It’s nearly eight pm when I step inside my apartment I share with my siblings. Dem trudges in behind me, slumping immediately on the couch.

“Uh… I don’t think so,” I playfully scold, pulling her back to her feet. “Shower all that horse off you. Then you can sit on our very expensive furniture.”

“You spill frosting on it every week!” She throws her hand out at the sugar cookie I had all intentions of eating on the couch, but maybe I’ll use my bed just to make a point.

I spin her by the shoulders and direct her toward the shower. She smells like hay and grass and all sorts of farm life, and it reminds me of long days at work and a nice paycheck in my pocket.

“Hey, I left some dinner in the oven if you want some,” Pete calls from his room. My stomach practically claps in celebration. I’m definitely not the cook of the house, so whenever Pete makes something, it’s at least edible.

Dem does the typical whine to the bathroom, flailing arms and all, and I detour to the kitchen for some grub. I check my phone for the eight-thousandth time today, grinning at the message from Tanner.

It’s his doofy, adorable, and sexy face, his Troublemakers cap hanging loosely on his head. Behind him are Kinsley and Kolton, the two trainees he’s had the past month who drive him up the wall. The eye roll is so apparent even in a still shot.

I chuckle and respond one-handed while I open the oven, the smell of tomato sauce and garlic hitting my nose. Lasagna night!

My phone struggles to fit into my pocket, my eager hand pushing too hard just so I can get some food in me. I’m not knocking on Tanner at all, but I had to grab a fast food breakfast this morning since I’m sure his mind was somewhere other than my stomach. From there I called the tow truck company, who told me where they took my car, and luckily it wasn’t too far out of the way—an hour and a half, and Candace volunteered to take Dem to her parents’ ranch while Pete worked his shift. I was able to afford an Uber out there, thank heavens, and my car now runs without too much damage to my wallet—another miracle.

So I spent most of the day at the shop, waiting for my car, texting Tanner, and living off of the vending machines they have in the front.

I stuff half a piece of garlic bread past my lips, chewing with them partially open since the piece was huge, and then I dish out a generous portion of lasagna—corner piece. The crunchier the better.

I’m just settling into the middle cushion of the couch, plate in one hand, remote in the other, and fork in my mouth when Pete slumps down next to me.

My eyes travel up and down his body, my brows knitting at the way he’s facing me and not the TV.

“Yesph?” I ask around my fork.

“You got a second?”

I stuff the remote in the crease of my calf and thigh and take the fork out of my mouth. “I suppose. We’re not going to fight again, are we?” I’ve had a busy day already, and I just want to enjoy the bliss of having Demi here, Pete cooking dinner, a boyfriend in my pocket, and a boarding session planned.Gosh, Pete, please don’t ruin it.

He scratches his jaw. Damn, he could use a trim on that beard. “I hope not.”

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