“I heard about the brick through your window,” he said, his face contorted with manufactured concern.
My gaze narrowed. “How? I didn’t file a police report.”
“You should have,” he said, not answering my question. “It’s better that the police have a record on file in case anything else like this happens in the neighborhood.”
I didn’t reply; instead, I clamped my jaw shut.
“I’m glad you weren’t injured,” he said pleasantly, as if he didn’t care that Jazz and I weren’t engaging in conversation. After an awkward moment of silence, he continued, “I couldn’t help but notice the new delivery van.”
“Yep,” Jazz said.
“For catering?”
“Thinking about it,” I lied before Jazz could tell him the truth.
“So, is everything resolved with the health department?” he pushed.
“What’s it to you, Kurt?” I asked, playing his own game and not answering a direct question. “By the way, what is it you do again?”
He flashed a grin. “A little bit of this, a little bit of that. My offer still stands.”
The smarmy lech raked his eyes down my body, not at all subtly.
“Have a nice day. Enjoy your pizza.”
He left the kitchen, and the moment the back door shut, Jazz rushed to it and locked it. “That guy wigs me out.”
“Me too,” I said.
“What offer was he talking about?” Jazz asked.
“He wants to buy the building. I said no.”
She frowned. “We need to do some recon on him. Like, have we even done a basic internet search?”
I shook my head. “Been a little bit preoccupied.”
“Are you going to tell Slash?”
“Tell him what?”
“I dunno. That there’s this weird creepy guy kind of hanging around, wanting to buy your building, knowing our business. How does he know about our business?”
“Aside from the brick, everything else is out in the open, right?”
“The health inspection?”
“We still have our pending grade sign in the window,” I reminded her. “And the van with our logo on it.”
“Your logo.”
“Ours,” I insisted. “You know it’s ours.”
“No. It’s our van, but it’s your logo.”
“It was your idea to go into catering.”
“You own the building. You know what? We’re getting sidetracked.”
“Yeah. We are. And the pizza is getting cold.”
“I’m not sure I want it anymore. What if it has that guy’s bad juju all over it?” she asked, even as she looked forlornly at the pizza box.
“It’s impossible for cheese to hold any bad juju,” I said.
“Thank God.” She ripped open the box. The pie inside was still steaming. “What were we talking about? Oh yeah, if you were going to tell Slash about all this.”
“No. I’m not telling him anything. There’s nothing to tell. The guy is being weird, but he hasn’t done anything outright to me. Besides, I’m no longer going to be living here in a few days, so I doubt I’ll have any more problems.”
“I still think you should tell Slash.”
“Look, the man bought me a car and asked me to move in with him and I’d really like not to give him a reason to go into full-on overprotective mode. It’s a little much as it is. I’ll tell him—if there’s anything to tell—when we find out who this Kurt guy is.”
“Hmm. Fine. Your circus, your monkeys.”
I grabbed a slice of pizza and bit into it. I chewed and swallowed before saying, “I don’t want to be foolish about this. I don’t want to bring this to Slash and have it grossly blown out of proportion.”
She took a paper napkin and wiped her greasy fingers. Then she pulled out her cell phone. “How do you spell Creeper’s name?”
I spelled it for her.
“Mkay, let’s see what we have here.” Her thumb scrolled down the page, and she shook her head. “Nothing.”
“What do you mean nothing? In this day of social media, you’re telling me you can’t find this guy online?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“I don’t believe you.”
She handed me her phone. “Okay, I believe you,” I said after a moment or two of scrolling. “Now my red flags are like, flying in the wind.”
“I can have Brielle do some digging, if you want?”
“Brielle? As in your best friend from high school who can Irish step dance? That Brielle?”
“She’s got a knack for ferreting out information. Horace’s garage is well known, as is her brothers’ tattoo parlor. She meets a lot of people just because of her family. She needs a good project. She’s kind of bored.”
“She can have at the mystery man, then.” I finished off my slice, feeling satisfied. “Let’s get to work making this cake topper. I’ve got a hot date furniture shopping in a few hours.”
“And you say you’re not committed. That’s like uber-committed,” she said, reaching for another slice.
“The baby growing in my uterus? That doesn’t scream uber-committed?”
“Not nearly as much as a new chenille couch. Now that shit is expensive.”
I shut the door of my new car and hit the clicker. A huge grin split my face when I heard the beeps of the alarm alerting me that the doors were locked.
“That sound is never going to get old,” I said to Slash, who was parked next to me and leaning against his motorcycle.
“You’re stunning when you smile.”
A shiver of want raced down my spine and settled low in my belly. I marched up to him and placed my hands on his chest. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” He wrapped his arms around me. “Drive was okay?”
“Yep.”
“Did you do the speed limit?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Papa Biker. I did the speed limit.”
“What did I tell you about that nickname?”
“You had a problem with Biker Baby Daddy. Papa Biker is like a hot version of Papa Smurf. Don’t lie. You love the name and want me to call you that all the time.”
“Woman,” he warned.
“Don’t woman me. I’ve been driving since I was sixteen.”
He leaned down and captured my lips, silencing the both of us. I pressed into him, not caring that we were making out in the parking lot of Folson’s department store.
When I pulled back, I was breathless. “Why did you want to come to Folson’s? It’s a haul and a half from Waco.”
“Doc told me Folson’s was the best. Mia agreed.”
“Doc? Oh, you mean Linden?” I nibbled on my lip. “So they, ah, know? That we’re moving in together?”
“Yup.” He took my hand. “Don’t be surprised if they call you in a few days, inviting you to hang out.”
I warmed at the thought. “That’ll be nice.”
He opened the door for me, and we went into the department store. Folson’s was like Nordstrom on crack. It was beautiful and elegant. Slash, with his leather cut and ink snaking up his forearms, looked out of place.
Luckily, the beautiful blond sales associate was a true professional. “Hello, how may I help you?”
Slash looped his arm around my shoulder.
“We’re looking to buy furniture,” I explained, wanting to sink even deeper into his side.
“Bedroom? Living room? Kitchen?”
“Er, yes,” I said.
She beamed. “Follow me. My name’s Debbie.”
“Hi, Debbie. I’m Brooklyn. This is Slash.”
“Welcome to Folson’s. Let me know if you need any help. I’ll be close by if you have any questions.” She waved her hand toward the furniture floor.
“Thank you,” I said, my eyes taking in all the furniture setups.
“You lead the way,” Slash said to me.
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” He grinned. “Whatever you want you get.”
“You’re living in this house, too, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then you get a say.”
“As long as it’s comfortable, I’m fine with it.”
“Even if I pick out floral patterns?”
“Even then.”
“What about birds. I like the idea of birds on cushions.”
“Wouldn’t bother me.”
“Ladybugs,” I tried.
He grasped the back of my neck. “No white. That’s the only stipulation.”
“Why no white?”
Slash paused. “Gets dirty easily.”
My cheeks heated. “Slash!”
“I didn’t mean it that way, though now that you mention it—definitely no white.”
I saw an L-shaped gray couch with big cushions and immediately trekked over to it and plopped down. I snuggled deep into the pillows and sighed.
“Found something you like already?” he asked in amusement, taking a seat next to me. He leaned back and patted his thigh.
“What?” I asked.
“Put your head here, stretch out.”
“Why?”
“Trust me.”
I turned my body and went supine, resting my head on his leg. He placed his hand on my neck and began to rub circles on my skin with his thumb.
If I were a cat I’d be purring.
“Yeah, I think this is the couch,” he said with a chuckle.
“Works for me.”
He continued to rub me. “Bedroom furniture next.”
“Yep.”
I still didn’t move.
“You gotta get up, babe.”
“I’m too comfortable.” With a sigh, I sat up. “You good with the matching coffee table and stuff?”
“Yup.”
“Awesome. That was painless.”
“One room down.”
The amount of money three rooms of furniture cost made my head spin. And when Slash handed over his credit card, I was even more light-headed.
“When can that be delivered?” Slash asked.
“In about a week,” Debbie said, sliding his card through the machine. “We don’t store anything more than the floor models in the showrooms here. It all comes from our warehouse. The bedroom furniture can be delivered tomorrow, though. If you don’t mind your furniture coming in at different times.”
“That would be fine,” Slash said as he signed the credit card slip.
“Thanks for your help, Debbie,” I said to her.
“My pleasure. Enjoy your new furniture.”
Slash took my hand and led me toward the elevator. I made him stop so I could look at the directory.
“What are you doing?” Slash asked.
“We’re making another stop before we leave here.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the men’s floor.”
“Why?”
“Why?” I raised my brows. “Because you just bought a six-drawer dresser, and you don’t have enough clothes to fill it.”
“I don’t need any more clothes.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “If you don’t buy clothes with me now, I’ll just buy you clothes by myself later, except you’ll have no say.”
“You don’t know what size jeans I wear.”
“I’ll look at the tag after you go to sleep and buy them for you.”
“Why does it bother you that I don’t have that many clothes?”
“Because I won’t feel comfortable living in a rental with furniture you bought, driving a car you bought, when you don’t even have enough things to fill a drawer.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “This is important to you.”
I nodded.
“Fine. But I’m not going overboard.”