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“Aren’t you going to wear a coat?”

“In the car?” I ushered her out the door and locked it behind us. “No. Only when I’m on the bike.”

“You don’t wear a coat unless you’re riding the motorcycle?”

“I guess if it was snowin’, I would.”

“Why?”

“Don’t need one.”

“But it’s cold.”

“Not that cold.”

“It’s the middle of winter.”

“And?”

“Fine,” she huffed as I opened her door. I held back a smile as I closed her into the car. “But I’m wearing a coat. I don’t like to be cold.” She continued as soon as my ass hit the driver’s seat.

“I wouldn’t let you leave the house without one,” I assured her.

“I thought you wanted me to do whatever I wanted?” she countered.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I really fucking liked my wife. “Now, you’re just tryin’ to start shit.”

“I would never.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m amiable!”

“Vocabulary words have no currency in the Mustang,” I teased, glancing at her as I backed out of the garage.

“Amiable means agreeable and friendly.”

“I know what it means.”

“Okay,” she sang like she didn’t believe me.

“Let’s go get you a phone first,” I said as we headed toward town. “You have any idea what you want?”

“Something that makes phone calls,” she replied slowly.

“Do phones even make calls anymore?”

“Very funny.”

“We’ll get you a nice one.”

“I don’t need anything fancy,” she argued.

“Nice doesn’t meanfancy.”

“Nice means expensive. I don’t need anything expensive either.”

“You need somethin’ that takes good pictures,” I said, glancing at her. “Can we agree on that?”

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