Page 128 of You Owe Me

“Okay, yes, him too, but also, how good we look on this couch together.”

“Oh, we’re doing this now.” His voice drops to that register that fries my nervous system.

“Look, I just think”—I slide onto his lap without hesitation—“that before we make a major purchase, we should verify… quality assurance.”

His hands find my hips automatically, grounding me with that controlled strength that always makes me feel weightless. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet here you are, letting me climb you like a tree in a furniture store.”

He groans, head tipping back slightly as I roll my hips. “Heaven help this couch.”

“I told you it had to withstand emotional and physical stress.”

“You’re gonna kill me before this thing gets delivered.”

I lean in, brushing my lips across his jaw. “You’d die happy.”

His mouth finds mine with a hunger that makes the world around us vanish. It’s not a slow kiss. It’s not tentative or curious. It’s ownership. Reverence. The kind of kiss that says,I gave it all up for this. For you.

My fingers thread into his hair as he deepens it, his other hand splaying over my lower back like he’s anchoring himself. Every part of me reacts—heat blooming, limbs humming, the soft weight of everything we are pressing down into the cushions.

And then?—

“Oh, my.”

We both freeze.

I turn my head slowly and, of course, standing not five feet away is an elderly couple holding hands and trying so hard not to make eye contact.

The man is grinning like he just won bingo, and the woman looks personally offended on behalf of the entire generation.

“I—uh—testing,” I sputter, waving a limp hand toward the couch. “Just… checking the, um, lumbar support?”

“Sturdiness,” Maverick adds calmly, because, of course, he recovers faster. “We believe in thorough inspection.”

The man snorts. “Hell of a test you’re putting it through.”

“Franklin!” the woman hisses, dragging him away by the elbow.

He’s still chuckling as they disappear around the corner, and I bury my face in Maverick’s shoulder, equal parts mortified and unreasonably proud.

“That just happened,” I whisper.

He kisses the top of my head, hands still lazily resting on my hips. “You started it.”

“Don’t act like you weren’t two seconds from unzipping my jeans in the middle of aisle three.”

“No comment,” he mutters into my hair.

The click of Janice’s heels approaching has me vaulting off his lap like I’m being ejected from a ride at Disneyland. I plop onto the far end of the couch, legs crossed, trying to look like someone who was definitely not straddling her boyfriend moments ago.

Janice rounds the corner, all cheerful efficiency. “So! Thursday afternoon delivery work for you two?”

“Perfect.” Maverick casually attempts to wipe lip gloss off his face without anyone noticing.

Janice taps a few things on her tablet. “Let’s get your info entered, and you’ll be all set.”

Twenty minutes later, we’re walking out with a receipt, a delivery time, and possibly a lifetime ban from the family-friendly section of the showroom.

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