She leans closer so that the words fall over my mouth. “I want…” Her tongue snakes out and swipes my bottom lip. “To go bus shopping with you.”
I jolt. “You wicked woman—”
Laughing, she tries to pull out of reach, but I grab her, making her shriek. I topple us off our stools but hold her in my arms as I roll beneath her, keeping her off the ground.
Greta is cackling like some sexy sorceress. She sits up, straddling my hips and throwing her head back with laughter.
God, I love her so damn much.
“You want a bus?” I ask, catching my breath from too much laughter.
With big eyes, she smiles down at me, looking so hopeful.
“Yes.” The word is all breath like the thought is too exciting to bear. Her curls sweep forward over her shoulders. I grab one lock and twist it around my finger. I tug it gently.
“If my baby wants a bus, I’ll buy her a bus.”
“Really?” I didn’t think her eyes could get any wider.
“I think we can swing it now.”
“I do too! I figure if we sell the Jeep in Panama, we can put up a decent down payment and get a solid interest rate on a bus.” Greta rattles off these details as though she’s spent hours mulling them over. “And we can use the annuity to cover notes and insurance for the time being.”
She’s right. “And then we can make sure the Boys & Girls Club has a ride,” I point out.
“And we can pick up and drop off our afterschool kids.” She bounces on my lap, wiping away all higher order thinking.
“Mmmm.”
Her hands land on my chest, and I’m ready for her to lower down and kiss me. Instead, she launches into another idea.
“And I was thinking that if we sold the condo, we could probably build two cabins. Especially if we did some of the work ourselves.” She throws a look over her shoulder toward the river. “And what if we rethink the boardwalk? What if we build a couple of fishing piers instead and leave the rest of the bank unspoiled? Wouldn’t that be better?”
I’m chuckling beneath her, marveling at her energy. Her passion. Her bliss.
“Yes. Anything.”
She reels back and stares at me. “Are you… Are you just agreeing because I’m straddling you like this?”
“I’m agreeing because you’re right. The straddling is just a happy bonus.”
She arches a brow and leans down. This time, she kisses me slowly. Deliciously.
“I don’t know,” she says, sounding both lazy and thoughtful. “It might be the straddling. It’s an interesting hypothesis.”
She grinds down against me and my breath hitches.
“I mean, if this is all it takes to get me a bus…” Her fingertips graze their way down my chest and along my belly, stopping right at my fly. “Just think of what I could accomplish if I really blow your mind—”
When I knife up with a growl, she lets out a squeal. We tussle and giggle until I have her back in the tent, peeling clothes off each other again.
And wouldn’t you know it? My Greta didn’t just pack one condom. She packed six.
The woman has vision.
Who am I to stand in her way?
The sun is already up by the time we dispense with the last one.
