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t shuffled some papers. “Then you’d better hop to it. Today is Friday. Take her out tonight and spank her in front of a crowd for all I care, but tomorrow morning, she’d better be out of here.”
“Or what?”
“Or…” He stopped talking and pretended to focus on something of great importance, scanning the document in his hand in an effort to read the same sentence over and over again. Finally, he sighed, perhaps giving thoughtful consideration before providing some cockamamie bullshit reply.
“Or?”
Kit slammed the papers against the smooth surface, flattening his palm against the stack. “Or else.”
“Oh good one,” Kemper teased, shaking his head. “I’ll relay the message to Holly. I’d say that right there—those very words—will scare her into packing her bags tonight.”
* * * *
Holly tossed one shopping tote after another. She swung one high and another one low, attempting to scatter the evidence of her shopping spree across the veranda just in case Kit peered outside the barn office window. She wanted him to think she had a larger stack than what was really there.
Kemper greeted her right after the last plastic sack fell. Slipping a kiss on her cheek, he said, “Save your energy. He’s not over there.”
“Hmm,” she responded, acting as if she couldn’t care less.
“He’s upstairs,” Kemper told her, watching her with wide eyes as if he wanted her to pay close attention to his loaded implication. “He’s in your room, as a matter of fact.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but when she couldn’t think of anything to say, she zipped her lips and grunted. She left the shopping evidence at Kemper’s feet and marched inside.
“Just what do you think you’re doing, Kit Keesling?” she called out, stomping toward the bedrooms.
“What’s it look like to you?” he asked as soon as she appeared in the doorway. He tossed her dresses one way, her pantsuits another.
“Let me guess. I don’t give you enough sex so you’re having a panty raid as a new form of punishment?” After a short pause, she clapped her hands and exclaimed, “Oh my goodness, that’s it! You’re such a pervert.”
“And your sarcasm leaves a lot to be desired.”
She glared at him like he’d just claimed the number one spot on her ‘men to avoid’ list. “I made myself clear earlier, Kit. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh that’s right,” he drawled. “I forgot. You’re my common-law wife. You’re entitled to certain legal rights.”
She grinned. “You actually called your attorney on that one, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Dumbass,” she said, picking the lint off her red silk shirt.
Kemper stood in the doorway with her bags over his shoulders, forearms, and wrists. His hands were full with a string hanging from eight out of ten fingers. “Where should I put these?”
Holly tapped her chin. “Hmm, let’s see. How about we hang the dresses in your closet?”
“I was thinking the same thing, Holly,” Kemper agreed, following her lead.
“Good,” she said, patting his cheek. “Kit prefers this room so you and I can share yours if that’s okay.”
“As long as you promise to sleep in my arms.”
Without a doubt, she owed Kemper big-time for his support. Her pussy clenched with the thought. She was looking forward to the evening ahead. Kemper earned every stroke of his upcoming reward.
“I promise to leave you with a smile and a very intimate kiss each and every night,” she purred, dragging her fingertips over his moist, full lips. “And don’t let me forget to show you my appreciation as often as possible.”
“I won’t,” he said, looking like a subservient man covered in all the latest styles and fashions.
So maybe that was a bit extreme.
