Page 32 of His Claim

Tatum nodded.

“You got a deal, baby girl.” I grabbed the fork from her and nodded to the chair next to me. “Now, come sit down and stop waiting on me. I’ll get the brownies and ice cream when we’re done.”

She skirted around the island and plopped on the stool beside me. “You’ve got a deal, Murphy.”

We dug into our dinner, discussing whatever came to mind but keeping it light.

Neither of us wanted to delve into what we were doing and where we were headed.

Life had been fucked enough the past two days.

We could save the heavy and possibly heartbreaking talk for another day.

Chapter Fourteen

Tatum

Sequins.

Glitter.

Rhinestones.

Leather.

Motorcycles.

Funny sayings.

That was the extent of the clothes I had to wear.

Ethel had a thing for anything sparkly, it seemed, and the clothes Meg had left at the cabin over the course of her visits here were a bit more in line with what I would wear, minus the leather.

Good thing Murphy wasn’t in the MC because I didn’t think I would fit the stereotype.

Not that I was anything to Murphy other than someone he needed to keep safe for the time being.

Last night after dinner, we had turned on the TV, but only after a few minutes, I started yawning and knew I needed to get my butt to bed unless I wanted to spend the night on the couch.

I had taken Ethel and Gravel’s bed while Murphy took residence in the spare bedroom.

I had woken up this morning and was surprised to find Murphy awake. He had been out on the front porch with a cup of coffee and his phone to his ear. Not wanting to disturb him, I made a cup of coffee and headed to Ethel’s closet to find something to wear for the day.

Another problem I had was that Ethel and Meg were different body types than me.

Ethel was more on the svelte side, while Meg was curvy in all the right places.

Neither of their pants fit me unless they were leggings or jogging pants; Meg’s shirts were the only ones I would consider wearing. However, the sayings on them just made me giggle.

‘Don’t Be A Richard’ was splashed across the chest of a white shirt. In large font on the other were the words ‘That Sounds Like A Terrible Idea,’ and then in smaller print, ‘What Time?’ was underneath.

My favorite one was bright pink that had the ox and covered wagon from the computer game Oregon Trail in the center with the words ‘Get In Loser’ on top, and in smaller words underneath the ox said, ‘We’re Going To Die Of Dysentery.’

It called to my geeky girl heart.

“Dysentery and leggings it is,” I sighed.

“Words I never thought I would hear together.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com