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“Shut up,” I moaned. “This isn’t fair. I can’t go on dates to the movies for the rest of my life!”
“We can think of something.”
“What about after you? When I marry you for your money and divorce you after we’ve had a baby to get child support?”
“Okay, first,” he said, not bothering to hide his laughter, “You’re so clumsy you’re going to need a nanny, and my affair with her is probably going to be why we divorce anyway.”
“Fair point.”
“And second, you’ll get custody because I’m a pig, so you won’t have time to date anyone.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh. So just because I get custody of our hypothetical children, I can’t date? You’ll have them at weekends, you know.”
“That’ll still give me three extra days to date.”
“Ugh. I might have to rethink the children.”
“Wise choice. They might get your inability to walk in heels and talent for knocking things over. I could never cope with two of you.”
“I couldn’t cope with two of me. Never mind you coping with two of me.” I laughed, leaning right back against my headboard.
A wave of happiness flowed through me. At this moment, he wasn’t my boss. He was just a guy I liked, and we weren’t thinking about a boss marrying his assistant, we were joking about a guy marrying a girl.
It made my heart happy.
Could hearts be happy?
That was such a weird phrase.
Hearts weren’t a clitoris. Now, a clitoris could be happy.
“Can I come by tonight? I promise to bring dinner,” Cameron said after a moment in a much softer voice.
“What dinner are you bringing?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. “And it’s not like I’m going anywhere, is it? I’m hardly going line dancing.”
“Can you line dance?”
“Not the point, Cameron.”
“I like it when you say my name.”
“Stop it, or I’ll pull out the Mr. Reid card.”
He barked a laugh. “Pull it and see what happens to you. Also, I’m bringing a salad.”
What?
“A salad? Who the fuck brings an invalid a salad?”
“An invalid? Is that what you are now? Jesus, settle down, Mrs. Shakespeare. Save some drama for somebody else.”
I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my laughter. “I’m a cripple! I can be dramatic.”
“Stop it. I’ll bring you food. Clearly, that’s the way to your heart.”
“Uh-huh. Food and orgasms.”
“Luckily for you, I’m good at giving both. See you later.”
The bastard hung up, mostly because he knew he wouldn’t be able to get the last word on that. That didn’t mean I wasn’t a: blushing, and b: going to pull out one of my rare good-flirt cards and text him.
Me: If you give me good food, I might just let you give me what you call a good orgasm… And then I’ll let you know.
***
“That is the worst reason to murder someone. It’s so obvious.” Cameron put some popcorn into his mouth. “Life insurance? Really?”
“That was three million dollars!” I pointed at the screen. “I’d murder someone for three million dollars!”
He turned to me, one eyebrow raised. “Should I be worried?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m going to divorce you for screwing the nanny, take all your money, then murder you and get your life insurance policy. Bingo. I’m set for three lifetimes.”
“From other people, that might scare me, but the only thing you can murder is carbohydrates.”
“Maybe I’ll kill you with them.”
“Impossible.” He trailed his finger up and down my arm. “You can’t kill someone with carbs. It’s like killing them with kindness. You might get a stomachache, but they won’t actually die.”
I sighed and leaned back into him. “Shame. I’ve tried to kill a few people with kindness.”
“Really? You?”
“Do you want me to kick you out of my bed?”
“Technically, I’m on it, not in it.”
“Only because Aunt Grace made you swear on the bible you wouldn’t get in bed with me,” I reminded him. “And I’ve seen you trying to creep under there.”
He grabbed a handful of popcorn. “Yeah, but that’s where your ass is. And where I can give you an orgasm.”
I looked at my foot, then at him. “Seriously? I have frozen sweetcorn on my ankle. Is that hot to you?”
“I thought it was peas.”
“I’m working my way through the frozen vegetable aisle. And what?”
“Nothing.” His lips twitched, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hide a laugh. “No, frozen vegetables are not remotely attractive.”
“Good, because I’ve had enough of this today. Can you take it off?”
He handed me the popcorn and removed his arm from around me to grab it. “What am I supposed to do with this?” He held the bag by the corner. “Re-freeze it?”
“Re-freeze it? No, you donut. You can’t refreeze things. It’s bad for you!”
“You’re not eating this, Hurricane. You’re using it so you can get back on your feet and stop annoying everyone.” He grinned.
“You’re starting to annoy me.”
“Easy fix.” He got up and tossed it in the trashcan to join the peas.
