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We’d spent them watching movies and hanging out with Carly, Slater, and Kizzy, when she wasn’t on the warpath over Pierce. Basically, we were getting used to being a couple. It was weird…and nice.
“Yeah, but tonight’s Carly’s birthday.” She bit her lip. “All night? At your place?”
“Mmm-hmm. All night in my bed.”
“But your eye—”
I cupped her cheek, rubbing my thumb over her wet lower lip. “Be with me.”
Releasing a shaky breath, she nodded. “I—I need…”
I rubbed against her, slow and determined. She’d started lowering her walls with me, but I was greedy and wanted more. I wanted all of her. “Tell me, baby.”
“Napkins. And plastic silverware.” She jerked away and disappeared down the next aisle while I smothered a chuckle.
That was my Mia. If you didn’t launch a sneak attack, she’d block and defend like a pro.
A few minutes later we walked out to the parking lot to my car. That was something else we’d been doing the last couple of weeks—driving. I’d taken my car out of long term storage to teach her, despite her freaking out about refreshing her rusty skills on a ’Vette. Perfectionist that she was, she’d remembered the basics pretty quickly. We’d mostly practiced in parking lots and on back roads. We’d also gone to Long Island and I showed her some of my old haunts. She’d been okay driving there, if a little uncertain.
Now it was time to build her confidence.
“Heads up.” She juggled her shopping bag as I tossed her the keys. “You drive.”
“What? Out here? No. I can’t. I’ll get arrested.”
“Yell a little louder, why don’t you? I don’t think the cop at DD heard.” Rolling my eyes, I pulled down the passenger seat and shoved my bags behind it. “Stop being a wuss. We’re like ten blocks from your place.”
She handed me her bag and I piled it on the others. “I don’t know. What if—”
“Get behind the wheel. I’ll help keep you calm, I promise.”
She rubbed her palms on the thighs of her jeans. “How?”
“Stop stalling. We have stuff to do at your place before Carly gets back.”
“Okay, okay.” She rounded the hood.
I got in the passenger side, pushing the seat way back. I shut the door and strapped in as she did the same, watching with amusement as she went through all her pre-driving checks. Move the seat closer. Adjust the rearview mirror. Fiddle with the seatbelt. Then, finally, putting the car into gear, checking over her shoulder—both of them—and inching backward.
“I hate reversing,” she muttered.
“You’re doing fine. Just stay steady on the gas. Don’t forget your turn signal.”
“I remembered it. I wasn’t ready yet.” She navigated around a forgotten shopping cart, hit her signal and crept into traffic. Good thing we were on a residential street, because she was doing about fourteen miles an hour, with occasional surges to sixteen.
“Turn off here.”
“Why? That’s not the way back to my place.”
God, her nerves were so cute. Why didn’t I find them annoying? I couldn’t figure it out. “It’s the scenic route.”
“Scenic means more than ten blocks.” But she dutifully switched on her signal and turned onto the next block.
“Just relax.”
“Relaxing,” she mumbled, scanning in all directions while tightening her fingers around the wheel.
I shifted my hand to her thigh and she jolted. “Easy. It’s important to be aware of your surroundings while driving. You have to stay alert no matter what’s going on.”
