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“Christmas is a ways away.”
“I know,” I agree. I also know I might not have the money until after Christmas, depending on how much I spend on gifts for everyone.
“Well then, I’ll come down before that and sleep on your couch. We can spend the day vegging out, watching movies, and drinking way too much wine.”
“You got a date.” I smile, walking into the living room and taking a seat on the couch before flipping on the TV.
“Good, because I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I whisper, hating that I haven’t seen much of her since I moved.
“I hate to run, but I need to get back to work,” she says, and I look at the clock on the DVR and see it’s just after four thirty. She doesn’t normally get off until five thirty sometimes six depending on what time the bank closes.
“Okay, love you.”
“Love you too, talk soon.”
“Talk soon.” I hang up and drop the phone to the coffee table. Flipping through channels, I stop on a crime drama and end up so engulfed in the show that I scream when Harlen appears in the living room, having used the key I gave him to get in.
“Christ, what the fuck?” he asks, as Dizzy jumps off the couch and runs to him, circling and bouncing at his feet.
“You scared me.” I hold my hand to my chest, feeling my heart pound against my palm.
“I see that.” He bends to scoop up Dizzy and comes to where I’m still sitting on the couch. “What are you watching that’s got you freaked?” he asks, and I lose sight of the TV when he blocks it and I try to look around his big frame.
“A show about a girl that went missing. No one knows what happened to her. She got in a car accident and called the cops, but when the cops got to where her car was, she was gone, vanished, and she’s been missing for years now.”
“You really think you should be watching that shit?” he questions.
I shrug, looking up at him. “It’s interesting.”
“It might be interesting, but it obviously freaks you out.” He shakes his head, dropping Dizzy to the couch before bending at the waist to put his fist in the cushion on either side of my hips. “What happened to your taillight?”
“Crap.” I lean my head back and close my eyes. I totally forgot about my taillight and spaced getting it fixed after I went to the hospital and the grocery store.
“Did you get in an accident?” he asks, sounding concerned, and I open my eyes to look at him.
“No, the boys from across the street were playing in their front yard and accidently hit a ball into my car. I was supposed to take it to get it looked at this afternoon, but I forgot all about it being busted.”
“I’ll drop you off at work tomorrow and take it to the shop,” he says, and I smile.
“Thanks, honey.”
“No problem, Angel. Now, are you finally going to fucking kiss me?”
“I don’t know.” I grin, and he growls, lifting a hand, tangling his fingers into my hair, and bringing my mouth close to his.
“You don’t know?”
“You could kiss me,” I suggest, looking into his beautiful eyes.
“I could,” he agrees, but he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes drop to my mouth.
“Harlen?”
“Yeah, baby?” His gaze lifts to meet mine and I slide my fingers up into his hair, putting pressure on the back of his neck.
“Please kiss me,” I whisper, and he smiles right before he slants his head and places his lips against mine. Feeling his tongue touch my bottom lip, my mouth opens and he slides in. Liking that so much, I whimper into his mouth and lift myself higher to get more of him. Then I groan in annoyance when I hear the timer for the stove go off. “That’s dinner,” I tell him, after pulling my mouth from his, and he turns to look toward the kitchen.
“You cooked?” he asks, not even holding back his surprise.
“Yes.” I grin, wrapping my hands around his shoulders and pushing back, but he doesn’t budge, not even an inch.
“What’d you make?”
“Cowboy casserole.”
“Don’t know what that is, but it smells fucking amazing.”
“It tastes amazing too, unless it’s burnt, so you need to let me up so that doesn’t happen,” I say, and he kisses my nose then pulls me up from the couch to stand in front of him. I walk into the kitchen and grab a set of potholders as he goes to the fridge to grab a beer. Pulling the casserole dish out of the oven, I smile when I see the tater tots are the perfect color of golden brown and the cheese is melted and bubbling.
“You made tater tots?” he asks, and I turn to look at him, finding his brows drawn together.
