And that’s the way we would do it from now on.
Nobody needed to know why Michael was tatted up head to toe.
Because we only lived by one motto now.
And that was to live and let live.
***
Five hours later
“Michael! I’m too big!” I yelled as Michael’s hands went around my waist as he opened my door. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
He ignored me, sweeping me up into his arms and walking steadily towards the house.
“You forgot to close the door to the truck,” I said lightly, wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning my head against his face.
“I’ll get it later,” he murmured.
“Later…like tomorrow later…or later like later this night later?” I teased. “Because we live in the woods now. There’s no telling what’ll be in the truck come morning.”
Michael knew I was right.
He’d had this new house of ours built in the boonies with absolutely nothing around. Literally, the closest Wal-Mart was forty minutes away, if that tells you anything.
“Fuck,” he growled, turning on his heels and walking back to his truck.
“You could put me down,” I suggested lightly when a light sheen of sweat started to dot along his brow.
“I’m fine, Nik. Quit worrying,” he muttered just before slamming the truck door closed with his boot covered foot.
It slammed closed with a bone shattering thud and he turned on his heel to head back towards the house.
“You really don’t look fine,” I said laughingly.
“Nikki,” he gave me ‘the look.’ “I’m fine. I can bench press three hundred and fifty pounds and squat twice that. Trust me, I’m okay.”
“You can squat seven hundred pounds?” I asked skeptically.
“Yes,” he answered.
“With your legs?” I countered.
He shot me a look, and I shut up.
There was no way he could squat seven hundred pounds. That was unheard of.
He was in a good mood, though, so I wouldn’t pester him about it…today.
“How are you going to get the door open?” I asked once he reached the front door.
A set of keys fell into my lap from where he’d tossed them from his hand across my back.
“It’s the pink key,” he said, a smile in his voice.
It was indeed pink. With purple flowers on it.
I assumed that one was mine, but whatever.
“Why didn’t we just go in through the garage?” I asked while I unlocked the door.
He grunted.
“Because I’m supposed to carry you over the threshold. It doesn’t work the same way if I carry you through the garage,” he muttered, sounding slightly breathless.
“Okay,” I said slowly, drawing the word out. “Whatever you say, my dear.”
He pinched my ass just as I swung the door open, causing me to jump and squeak, followed by him cursing.
“Hurry up and carry me over before you break your back,” I squealed.
“I’m not going to drop you!” He roared.
I had to smother a laugh as the moment he walked through the door, he unceremoniously dropped me to my feet and walked off towards the kitchen.
“Hey!” I said indignantly. “You were supposed to carry me up to our room and ravish me!”
Wasn’t that how it worked in movies?
My husband must not have gotten the memo.
“Where are you going?” I asked, following behind him.
“To get something to eat. That dinner we supposedly had was shit,” I heard him mutter from in front of me.
I smiled as I ran my hands over the walls.
They were beautifully done.
As were the floors and ceilings.
We’d gone more ‘home and country’ rather than modern.
We wanted our house to be warm and inviting, and our contractor accomplished that to a T.
When I breached the door to the kitchen, I found Michal standing at the fridge with his head stuck in it.
“We don’t have any food in there,” I muttered. “What do you think you’re going to find?”
He backed out of the fridge with turkey, cheese, mustard, pickles, lettuce, tomatoes, and mayo, causing my brows to shoot up to my hairline.
“Where’d that come from?” I asked in surprise.