So Wendy and I took Jonas to the mall and spent three hours torturing poor Jonas (who didn’t mind the mall, for, say, the first five minutes, then, just like his father, he found it not so fun) until I found something. I bought it because Wendy swore it was perfect. She swore it was me and she advised I had to be me because the judge would see through anything else. And I bought it even though I thought it made me look more milf than mother and I bought it because Jonas looked ready to beg the next woman he saw to adopt him immediately.
I also bought Tate the picture of the bikers driving into Carnal. I bought this from Stoney who didn’t want to sell it. As in, he really didn’t want to sell it. This meant I had to go all the way up to one thousand five hundred dollars to buy it in the haggle-with-a-biker to end all haggles-with-a-biker, one I obviously lost. This was a little insane but it was also how badly I wanted Tate to have it. Pop went to go get it and he and Jim-Billy fixed it to the wall over Tate’s bed.
Seeing it there, I didn’t mind that it cost an absolute fortune. I was right, it was perfect. It made the room.
And it was Tate. The minute I walked into Stoney’s and saw it up close, I knew he had to have it, I made it mine to give, I gave it to him and it was worth every penny.
But I worried Tate would find out how much I spent and lose his mind, even though I swore Stoney to secrecy.
Tate didn’t get a chance to see the surprise in his bedroom to get pissed off about it.
No, he was pissed the minute he walked into the house.
I knew this because I was standing in the kitchen, Jonas was in the living room playing a video game on the TV and Tate walked in, his eyes locked on mine and I didn’t even get my mouth open to say hello before he growled, “Bedroom.”
Then he prowled toward the hall, only his head turning toward Jonas to whom he said, “A minute, Bub.” Then he disappeared down the hall.
I thought he’d heard about the picture and I followed him, taking my time, not wishing to rush to my punishment, and I threw a curious-looking but grinning Jonas a nervous smile before I hit the hall.
I cleared the door to the bedroom and Tate, standing in the middle of the room, his back to the bed and the picture, his arms crossed on his chest, ordered, “Close it.”
I took in a breath, turned and closed the door.
Then I leaned against it and started, “Tate, I know you’re –”
He cut me off on a snarled, “What the fuck, Ace?”
“I wanted –”
He interrupted me again. “I thought we had this straight.”
“We did, I just wanted –”
“Space?”
I blinked, confused. “Sorry?”
“Christ almighty, Lauren, I’m gone half the time.”
I shook my head, not following. “Gone half the time?”
“You and Amber went to look at apartments. Stella saw you and told me.”
Oh, that.
He couldn’t be angry about that. He hadn’t asked me to move in, not officially, and he didn’t seem bothered that I was living out of suitcases. Obviously, he wasn’t ready for me to move in and it was too soon to be living together, living together. He had plenty of help with Jonas; I would even help out when I got a place. But I needed to get settled and not in a hotel and not crashing at his place to take care of his cat and his son while living out of a suitcase. He loved me, he couldn’t want that for me. I needed to call someplace home, the time had come. And he loved me, he’d want that for me.
“I need to settle, Captain. I’m tired of living out of a suitcase,” I said softly.
“So fuckin’ unpack,” he returned as if it was as simple as that.
I blinked again. “What?”
He threw his hands out impatiently. “Unpack.”
“Here?” I asked disbelievingly.
I watched his face go hard. “Why the fuck not? You need space, babe, I’m on the road half the time. You want a fancy couch, fuckin’ buy it.”
“I…” I shook my head, “um…”
“You, um, what?” he shot at me. “What do you need to make this good enough?”
“Good enough?” I whispered.
He took five long strides to me, they were so fast suddenly his face was all I could see.
“Get your damned blinds, buy a fuckin’ couch, re-carpet, I don’t care, just unpack your fuckin’ bags,” he growled.
“Are you…” My head jerked spasmodically and I tried again. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”
“Sharp as a tack, Lauren,” he bit out, one of his barbs that stung.
“No,” I whispered as the point of the scene dawned on me, “You’re telling me to move in with you.”
“Unpack your… fuckin’… bags,” he clipped.
I stared up at him.
Then I glared up at him.
Then I planted my hands on my hips and leaned in, getting even closer to his face.
“You know, Captain,” I whispered in a voice that sounded more like a hiss. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me for weeks, weeks, to make it official and move in and you do it like this.” I flipped a hand out and then returned it right back to my hip.
I was too angry to notice the change in his face, I just kept right on hissing.