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“I bought some candles to put in my fireplace. It’s going to be really cozy.”
“All I care about is that you don’t burn down the apartment building. If you’re going to be the reason I combust, I don’t want to be asleep when it happens.”
“I figure it’s safe since I have a fireman living next door.”
“No one wants to come home after work, just to do the same work at home.”
Luna chuckled at this. “That must make it especially difficult for you then.”
“No kidding. Why am I doing this?” he asked.
She leaned closer, whispering, “Because I’m a cornucopia of complexity.”
As if she was made of gravity, he drew nearer. “More like a cornucopia of pain-in-my-ass.”
Luna swiped his baseball hat, placing it on her own head. “I think you’re confused. I wasn’t the one to hit you with that toolbox.”
“It’s still partially your fault. Are you going to take all my clothes?”
“You’d like that wouldn’t you.”
Sam’s gaze flicked away, his lips pulling into an endearing grin.
She eyed him. “You’re not as tough as you think you are, Samderland.” Luna bet she could penetrate his shell as easily as breaking a macaron with her finger.
“That’s where you’re wrong. I don’t think I’m tough at all. I don’t even know why anyone would want to be that. When I heartough, I think about steak. And how can being so tough and chewy no one wants you be a good thing?”
She pushed a finger into his bicep. “Oh, yes, this steak is nice and tender.”
While painting with one hand, he snapped the same arm into a flex pose. Her eyes popped as a boulder developed on his bicep, stressing the sleeve hemline of his T-shirt. “I got your filet mignon right here, Queenie.”
Luna threw back her head and laughed. She couldn’t help it. They continued chatting while waiting for paint to dry, spending time with both Nicholas and Zabe. What she noticed about Sam was that he had an easy way of conversing with people. Small talk came easy to him, and he had no problems turning it into something interesting. She could get a glimpse of the storyteller in him.
In the evening, it was time to carry the faux fireplace to her apartment. “Are you looking forward to having a roaring fake fire in your fake fireplace? You can roast fake chestnuts and hang fake stockings at fake Christmas,” Sam said, reclaiming his hat from her.
“Haven’t you ever heard offake it ’til you make it?”
“I think you flipped it. You didmake fake things.”
“Okay, that was a pretty impressive comeback.”
“Now I’m impressive? What have I been doing all day?”
“Is this why you were showing off your meat earlier?” she asked.
“Oh, that was just one. I have filet mignon for two, a full rack of ribs, some tenderloins, rump roast, kielbasa and a couple of a-spicy meatballs.”
“Look, buddy, if you’re going to promise a woman an all-you-can-eat, grade-A beef buffet, you better deliver.”
With a huff, they set the faux fireplace in front of apartment seven. Sam gave her a wicked grin before knocking on the door. “Delivery. Your hot beef buffet has arrived.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Are you expecting a tip?”
“I’ve already taken care of it. This delivery offers more than just the tip.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.
“I’m not sure if I should leave a review on Grubhub or Pornhub?”
After they got the faux fireplace inside, Luna went into her bedroom to gather some pillar candles while slipping on Sam’s hoodie. She should return it, but it was also more comfortable than any of her other hoodies, like a cozy blanket she could wear when it was chilly in the morning or evening. She would return it to him…eventually.
