Chapter 10

I woke up the next morning wrapped in his arms as he played with my hair.

"Hey," I said sleepily as I looked into happy green eyes.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beautiful," he said as he leaned down to kiss me gently.

I made a happy noise in the back of my throat. "Good morning," I said as I snuggled closer. "What's got you so happy this morning?"

He chuckled and I blushed. "I didn't mean that! I mean your face looks happy!" I could feel that other parts of him were happy too. Very happy.

"I am happy."

I peeked up at him. "About what?"

"This. Us. Giving it a shot. Aw hell, I can't explain it," he groaned.

I grinned. "I understand. And at least I'm not the only one who gets tongue-tied."

He smiled and kissed my hair.

We cuddled together for a while before the call of nature forced me out of my nice warm bed, and the even nicer, warmer arms that were in my bed.

Then we chatted while I got the coffee going and stuck some frozen waffles into the toaster. I didn't have any syrup, but I did have peanut butter, so I smeared the golden brown waffles with copious quantities of peanut butter and called it done.

What, peanut butter has protein. Who said I couldn't cook?

Les smiled at his breakfast and ate without a word. My kind of man. Wait, what? Never mind, think about that one later, Plum.

We sat on the couch and chatted for a bit before I reluctantly had to go to chase skips. He offered to go with me, but I declined. "Okay, I'll go, but promise you'll call if you need backup?" he asked with his tongue doing magical things to my ear.

I'd have agreed to anything at that point as long as he kept doing that thing with his tongue. And his lips. And dear God, his teeth.

"Baby?"

"Back up, yeah," I managed to whisper distractedly.

"Good," he murmured before he went back to nuzzling my ear

I sighed a minute later when he eased back. "You're going to be hell on my blood pressure," I murmured.

He laughed. "You're hell on mine, Beautiful," he told me before he pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "Call me later?"

"You call me. I don't want to bother you while you're on a stake out or whatever, so you just call me when you have a free minute," I offered.

"You're never a bother," he told me. "You can call me anytime and I'll answer if at all possible. But I'll call you before I go on duty tonight and when I get a break. Okay?"

"Okay. Be safe," I told him.

"You too," he said with one last kiss that left my knees weak and my lungs heaving. Damn, but he was good at that.

I managed to round up a couple of skips and I didn't even get covered in crap. I spoke with Les several times during the day, and my heart sped up ever time I heard his ring tone. I'd changed it to LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It" because it just fit his personality so well, and I had the urge to shake my tush every time it played.

Plus the idea of a bunch of Merry Men in nothing but g-strings dancing around behind a g-string clad Les made me drool on myself.

He was on nights for the next couple of days, so we didn't see each other as much, but we spoke frequently. And he'd come by and have dinner with me before he went on duty.

Those dinners were lighthearted and fun, just like things always were with Les. The only difference was that he kissed me frequently, touched me constantly and told me that he loved me before he left to save the world.

It was decidedly weird.

I was enjoying dating Les, and the making out part was fabulous, but I was still nervous about being married. It's not like my one attempt had worked out well for me. I'd caught The Dick doing the horizontal mambo with The Skank before the certificate was dry. And Joe had claimed that he'd wanted to marry me, but he'd once again cheated on me with Mob Boss Barbie.

So maybe there was just something wrong with me? My mom certainly thought so.

I woke up a week later on Saturday morning to find a green-eyed hottie sleeping peacefully next to me. I slipped out of bed as quietly as possible and took care of my personal needs before playing around on my laptop in the living room until Les joined me shortly after noon.

"Hey, baby," he said with a kiss as he picked me up, laptop and all, and plopped me back down in his lap. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm fine this afternoon, and you?" I squeaked once I stopped moving.

He grinned. "Better now. I woke up lonely," he said with sad puppy dog eyes.

"Aww, poor baby," I replied. "I woke up confused that I wasn't alone."

He grinned. "I missed you."

Aww. "I missed you, too."

"And I'm off today, figured I could spend the day with my beautiful wife." he said.

I blushed at the word wife. "Shh! Someone will hear you! And if my mom finds out, you'll be a widower!"

Les just grinned and kissed me. "Baby, we're in your apartment. No one else is around, so no one else can hear me. And I'll protect you from your mom."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"What about from my grandma?"

"You're on your own, Beautiful."

I snorted. "So much for 'til death do us part then!"

"It would be my death if she got her hands on me," he said with a big grin. "Or hers. And you'd hate me if I killed your granny."

Eh, he's probably right, but I wouldn't be able to blame him. Much.

I rolled my eyes at him. "I need to follow around some skips today, figure out how best to nab them, but you're welcome to come with me if you're that bored," I told him. Wouldn't be the first time we'd done stakeouts together.

He reached around me to pick up my stack of files on the coffee table. "Hey, this guy works at the Lowe's just down the road! We can stake him out and check out stuff for the house!" he said with a grin. "Two-for-one day, score!"

Will Jacobson was wanted for assault when he'd gone all gonzo on his brother in law after a hockey game. Apparently the brother in law had made disparaging comments about Will's favorite teams, and in his state of inebriation, Will had whacked his brother in law with a 2x4 in his truck. Repeatedly.

Yikes.

I called the store and pretended to be a customer who'd been helped by our FTA previously. Will wasn't at work yet, but he should be there within the hour. Lucky me, I had to go look at tile and paint samples now.

Les insisted we go by his house and pick up the plans for the improvements just in case we saw stuff we liked while we stalked Will. Er, gathered intel. Same difference, right?

I have to admit, I actually had a lot of fun playing home decorator with Les. Of course, when do I not have fun with Les?

He'd brought the design plans and then ran through the house snapping pics on his iPhone so we could remember what the rooms looked like currently. Like those images weren't burned in horror in my brain.

I was also horrified by the price of appliances, cabinets, tile and stuff, but Les just laughed at me and told me not to worry about price, just to pick stuff that we liked. Hello, has he met me? I have to worry about the price of stuff! If they raise the price of donuts, my carefully constructed budget will be screwed!

"Baby, please, don't worry about it. I've budgeted for it. And I want to get this shit done, but I need help picking out stuff," he said as he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Can't you get Ella to help? Or hire a decorator?" I asked in shock as I saw the price tag on a stainless steel French door fridge. I'd owned cars that had cost less.

He laughed. "Yeah. But I'd rather it be us."

I stared at my shoes. "But what if…" I said before stopped.

"What if what, Beautiful?" he said as he pulled me close to his chest.

"What if things don't work out great with us?" I said in a rush.

"I think it will. I have to think to will or I'll lose my mind worrying about it. So it will, and we have to pick a fridge for our house because that green monstrosity has to go."

I looked up at him and grinned. "So you're the King of Denial, huh?" I asked. Good to know the monarchy was still strong in the land of Denial.

"And you're my queen, baby," he said with a smile as he pulled me down the line of fridges. "So which ones do you like?"

It was fun once I was able to stop worrying about the price of everything. And once Les whipped out a black Amex, which I knew had no limit, we were surrounded by sales people willing to do absolutely anything for us.

Les wanted his house done fast, and between the black Amex and the 'do what I want or woe be unto you' look on his face, they would do what he wanted. One person was at the computer looking to see which appliances were in stock while another was on the phone with their cabinet supply company to see which brands could be expedited. A third was frantically looking up warranty and Energy Star info on every fridge, stove, microwave and dishwasher in the place so she'd be able to cite chapter and verse if and when we asked.

I, however, was trying not to wet my pants laughing.

Les dropped his badass mask long enough to wink at me, which only made me laugh harder.

The cabinetry guy came back and had a list of cabinet styles that we could have ready to install in seven to ten days. Les unbent enough to nod at him, and we sat down at a table to look through the options.

We both liked the darker wood options, and neither of us were into fancy designs. So we picked a simply shaker design in a mahogany finish that I figured would go well with the historic style of the house. It was one of the suggested styles from the architect, so I figured we had validation of our style choice.

The cabinetry guy tried to schedule a time for someone to come take measurements, but Les just handed him a detailed plan and set of measurements from the architect and contractor. Cabinetry guy opened his mouth to say something, took one look at the look on Les's face and nodded, waiving that requirement. Smart man.

After picking the cabinet styles and colors, we went back to pick the appliances. "Just 'cause you're buying top of the line shit doesn't mean I'm going to turn into Susie Homemaker!" I warned Les.

He pulled me into an alcove where a fridge used to live. With a big fridge on either side, we were hidden from the anxious kitchen design people who wanted to rack up the digits on Les's credit card.

"Beautiful, I know you're no Martha Stewart. I don't want that, I want you. But I do want a place to keep the beer cold, and you'll need a freezer for the Ben and Jerry's. And we'll need a microwave and stove and all that shit. I'm not Morelli, I'm not expecting you to be anyone other than you. Got it?"

I nodded and he kissed me thoroughly before pulling me out of the gap. I won't lie, it's a good thing he had his arm around my waist because I wasn't so steady on my feet yet.

We picked out stainless steel appliances that I figured would look good with the dark wood cabinets and the gray stone fireplace on the wall between the kitchen and dining room.

By the time we finished with appliances, cabinetry guy had several choices of counter tops available for us. All of them could be ready at the same time as the cabinets. A black Amex could really work wonders. Of course, the fact that he could buy a freaking Caribbean island with the thing probably had a whole lot to do with it. And the fact that Les looked like he could kill them all probably helped as well.

I made Les pull out his iPhone and the photos the architect had printed, and we both picked a faux granite that matched the stone of the fireplace pretty damn well. Les wanted real granite, but I didn't once I learned it had to be sealed twice a year and required quite a lot of work. And real granite would take two to three months to be cut and delivered.

That part right there convinced Les that the fake stuff looked good enough. Plus it was easier to take care of and was "green" because it was made out of recycled glass bottles.

And the fact that it came in smaller tiles for a backsplash had me sold. It would all match and just needed to be wiped down on occasion. As Les pointed out, Martha Stewart we are not.

Once we had the kitchen pretty much settled, the cabinetry guy was left to frantically print up an inventory and price list for Les's contractor. And he was also making a pretty little color drawing of what it would look like when it was done for me since I'm a visual person. Les looked at his watch and gave him an hour. Cabinetry guy swallowed hard and practically sprinted to his computer.

I turned to Les and grinned. "You did that on purpose," I accused.

He grinned back at me. "I haven't flexed my badass muscles much recently. Gotta make sure they still work."

I rolled my eyes. "They work."

Then Les dragged me off to the bathroom fixtures aisle. I started slobbering over a giant jetted tub that reminded me of the one in our hotel room in Vegas. Les just laughed at me, until I told him about my memory. Then his eyes went from peridot to emerald and he caught the eye of a staring young woman in the blue Lowe's smock.

"Hi there, honey," she drawled as she walked over, completely ignoring me. "Can I help you with anything?"

"I need the dimension on this tub and when it could be delivered," Les said as he turned back to me. "My wife seems to like it."

"Les!" I squeaked.

"Yeah, baby?"

I jerked his head down so I could hiss in his ear. "I thought you were going to be careful about saying that in public! We're only three freaking miles from my apartment!"

Les kissed my cheek. "We can claim we're undercover if anyone asks," he whispered back in my ear before he bit down gently on my ear lobe. I tried to suppress a moan but I think I failed.

I looked up to see the girl still standing there with her jaw open. "Go check, please," I said sweetly. "He can do things in a tub that should be illegal."

She snapped her jaw shut and stomped away, but I could have sworn I heard her whisper "lucky bitch!" as she walked away.

I could feel Les shaking with mostly repressed laughter next to me. "Illegal, huh?"

I stood on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "Oh yeah. Remember when we took that bath together in Vegas? I'm surprised the water didn't turn to steam."

He pinned me against the display shower and kissed the living daylights out of me until the sound of a throat being cleared pulled us back to reality.

I looked up in a daze. The snippy girl from earlier was standing there with a bright red blush on her face. I blushed too as I realized what we'd been doing for everyone and their cousin to see in the middle of the store.

She wordlessly handed a sheet of paper to Les, who took it without letting me go completely. He compared it to the dimensions on the plans from the architect. "And when could it be ready?" he asked in a husky voice that almost made me moan again. Or throw him to the ground and yell "Hi-ho silver, away!" while I rode him like Zorro.

"Um, anytime," the girl squeaked. "We have two in stock."

"Reserve one," Les said as he handed her his black Amex.

We had a bit more debate over the vanities. The in-stock selection was pretty limited and basic, and the girl who'd helped us earlier was too busy staring at Les's ass to be of any real assistance.

I finally got fed up with her and went in search of the kitchen cabinetry guy from earlier. What? It's still cabinetry, just for the bathroom instead. He was much more helpful, and didn't stare at either of our asses.

We finally decided on a style that was basically the same as the kitchen cabinets, a simple style in a dark finish. Hey, we'd both liked that and it should fit the style of the house.

And since the new master bathroom was going to be so big, the double vanity in there was really freaking long, five feet long to be precise, but that was the dimension from the architect. And there would be two linens towers flanking it on either side. Oh, the storage space for all my makeup and hair supplies. Be still my heart.

Wait, when did I start thinking about this being my house too? Shit.

I didn't have time to think about it much before Les was dragging me off to look at tile for the bathroom floors, walls and the showers.

In the end, I liked a pale gray that came in big square tiles. I might have avoided as much domestic stuff as I could, but I remember my mom complaining about grout lines and the tiny tiles in the bathroom at her house.

I snagged a passing employee and asked her. "Oh yeah, honey. Bigger tiles are definitely better if you're trying to avoid scrubbing grout lines all the time. But they can do tinted grout now and it's a whole lot better than when I was your age," the kind older woman said. "I remember when those tiny one-inch tiles were popular. You'd spend all your time trying to keep those white grout lines clean, but it was impossible unless you could scrub them every day!"

Pass. So not going to happen.

I kept this sweet lady, her name was Sarah, with us while we picked out bathroom things. She was nice, knowledgeable and she didn't try to stare at Les's ass. So basically, she was perfect.

She said she was kind of a Jill of all trades, and she knew a little bit about most things. Her husband had been a contractor professionally, and she'd helped him for years. But once her kids were grown, she was bored, so she worked part-time at Lowe's for the supplemental income and to get away from her now retired (and cranky) husband. Huh, sounded like my dad and his cab.

She helped us pick out tile for the bathroom and suggested we continue the same tile on the floor and walls to make it seem bigger. Worked for me. Les just grinned and let us pick stuff out.

"Don't you care?" I asked in exasperation.

"Honestly, no. If you point out something I hate, I'll speak up. But the whole reason why the whole damn place is white right now is because I don't know anything about color and tile size and all that stuff. That's why I waited for you. You know about this stuff, I'd have never even thought about the size of the tiles," he admitted.

Sarah laughed. "Newlyweds?" she asked.

I blushed and Les nodded. "You're too cute together," she answered.

He grinned at me. "We're cute together," he said as he kissed the top of my head. "Even strangers see it."

I rolled my eyes at him and followed after Sarah as she showed up the glass shower doors. "Now these come in standard sizes, or you can special order them in other sizes," she said.

Les leafed through the stack of papers and handed her a sheet. "Here are the sizes we'll need."

Sarah studied them for a minute. "These are all standard sizes, so they should be in stock or here very quickly."

Then she looked curiously at the stack of papers. "So what else do you need to get?"

I have a feeling she just adopted us.

"Yes, I have. You're my special project for the day," she said with a grin. "So let me help you spend your money. What else do we need to pick?"

I looked at Les with wide eyes. "Out loud?"

He laughed at me. "Yep. But it seems to have worked in our favor. Our fairy godmother is eager to find everything we need. With her help, we might be able to get everything we need today!"

Les grinned and explained about his contractors being ready to start the renovations once we pick out everything. Sarah just grinned and whipped out a notebook from under her computer workstation. She flipped to a new page and started a list.

"Alright, so we've got the shower doors and the glass panels," she said as she wrote down the item numbers from her computer screen. "So let's go take a look at the tile you liked and see if we've got enough in stock or available to get here quick or if we should pick another color."

Within the next few hours, we'd picked out everything, and I do mean everything.

We'd started with the tile before moving on to the faucets. We'd picked faucets for the tub, shower, a double vanity in the master bath, the kitchen sink, and faucets for the other bathrooms. We'd decided on a simple brushed nickel that should look good for years to come. All Les had asked was no more brass. He shuddered when he said that, and I had been in complete agreement.

For the upstairs bathrooms, we picked simple white shower/ tub combo units in smooth fiberglass. We went with classic white toilets, because seriously, who the heck wants a pink toilet? And we went with the big boy versions, because the Merry Men ain't exactly petite.

But the thought of Tank using a tiny pink toilet was freaking hilarious and almost convinced me to stick with pick and tiny. But the thought of what Tank would do to me if he learned I left it that way on purpose convinced me otherwise.

The master bath would have custom-built walk-in shower to go along with the drool-worthy tub, and we'd use the pale gray tile that had launched my discussion with fairy godmother Sarah.

Then we'd picked out light fixtures for pretty much every room in the house. Sarah told me to go with our first instincts, so we had. My only objection had been when Les had wanted a God-awful ceiling fan with bear claw pulls. He wanted it for the living room. I'd gaped at him in horror until he busted out laughing and said he was just kidding.

Then Sarah had pulled us over to the paint area and had parked us in front of a historic collection.

I found myself drawn to certain colors, and Les said he liked them too.

The kitchen, pantry and mudroom would be a soft, pale sunshine yellow that I figured would be cheerful without being overwhelming in the dark wood and silvery room. The pantry and mudroom were smaller and windowless, and the yellow should brighten it up a bit.

I really like a silvery blue for the master bedroom and bathroom. Les said it reminded him of my eyes, so he was perfectly happy with that color. And he'd like to do all the bathrooms in that color since it would go so well with the light gray tile.

Of course, in retaliation, I found a light green that matched his eyes almost perfectly and declared it perfect for the living room. He laughingly objected, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked it.

"Come on! It's pretty and I'll think of you every time I'm in the living room. And don't you want me thinking of you?" I said as I batted my eyelashes at him.

"Baby, I can guarantee that I can make you think of me when we're at home together," he growled against my neck.

Sarah stood back and laughed at us. "It's an older house, right?" she asked.

Les nodded. "Colonial," he confirmed before pulling out his iPhone to show her a picture.

"It's beautiful," she said admiringly. Then she pulled out several booklets of color chips for us to look at.

"Take these home and think about them. You can certainly go with other colors, but these would be historically appropriate for a colonial-style home," Sarah said.

I flipped through them and found several colors that I liked on first review, so I nodded. "We don't have to know the exact colors yet, right?" I asked Les.

He shook his head. "No. Contractor just needs to be able to order the tile and cabinets and all that stuff. I'll need to get the lists from everyone and I'll drop them off with Charlie first thing Monday morning so he can get on it. But I'm pretty sure we can pick out the paint and stuff later."

Sarah nodded. "Paint will probably be one of the last things they'll do," she explained. "You don't want to paint and then get it dirty or dusty from the other construction work. And since we mix it up here, there's nothing to order. So you should have plenty of time with that."

I just nodded. My head was spinning and I was freaking starving. I couldn't believe all we'd accomplished, but if I didn't eat soon, I couldn't be held responsible for what happened when my stomach crawled out of my body to terrorize Trenton like Godzilla did Tokyo.

"Okay, kids, I'll type up your lists while you get the info from the kitchen design people," Sarah said. "I'll be at my computer near the tile section where we first met."

We nodded and headed off to the kitchen area. It had been well past the hour that Les had given the cabinetry guy, so I felt sure he had stuff ready for us. And he did.

The color pictures were really cute and even Les seemed impressed. "Damn, baby, it's going to be nice!" he said.

I nudged him with my hip. "Don't sound so shocked, Santos!"

He grinned and pulled me close. "I'm not. But this is why I begged you to help. I told you that you'd make it look good."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now feed me."

"Ma'am, yes ma'am. Let's get the list from Sarah and I'll take you wherever you want. I can't believe we've got everything ready to order after only one day!" Les said in a shocked voice.

"And I can't believe we never once set eyes on my FTA," I grumbled.

"Oh shit," Les muttered. "I forgot. I'm sorry. Forgive me?" he asked with sad green eyes.

"Yeah, if you feed me."

"You're easy," he replied with a grin.

I punched him in the shoulder. "You should know I'm not!"

His eyes darkened and his lower lip went between his teeth. "No shit!" he muttered.

I stuck my hands on my hips. "What was that?"

He sighed and pulled me into his arms. "I said no shit. I take at least two cold showers a day. So I know you're not easy. It was just a stupid joke, sorry."

"I'd make you sleep on the couch tonight, but there are laws that prohibits cruel and unusual punishment," I told him. "And I told you I wasn't like your other dates, so you were warned."

"I know, Beautiful. And I'm happy to wait. Okay, happy isn't the right word. Resigned, maybe. I'm hornier than hell, but I'll wait until you're ready for more than just dating," he promised.

I blushed bright red and buried my face in his chest. "Le-es!" I wailed, turning his one-syllable name into two.

I could feel his chest shake as he laughed. "You wanted me to be honest."

I had no response for that so I just walked off. I could hear him laughing as he followed me. Stupid boys. Why do I bother again?

My face had gone from fire engine red to merely rose by the time I'd trudged through the store to Sarah's computer station. She smiled when we approached. "Almost done!" she called out.

I plopped down on a stack of tile. My feet hurt, I was starving and I was embarrassed. If I was honest, I was also a little turned on myself from Les's comment, but I'd never admit to that one.

Les stood beside me, his hand on my shoulder. "You okay?" he whispered.

I nodded without looking at him.

"Steph, baby, what's wrong?" he asked as he squatted down in front of me, his eyes full of concern.

I shrugged and looked down at my hands in my lap. He tilted my chin up with his index finger. "Please tell me?"

Shit, he knows I can't resist please.

"Just tired and embarrassed, I guess," I finally answered.

"Tired, I get. I have been dragging you around all day without stopping to think about how long we've been here. Sorry, I got excited about finishing the house and didn't think about how tiring it was. But why are you embarrassed, baby?" he asked.

"Can we not talk about it here?" I asked with a quick glance at a curious Sarah, who was trying to pretend like she wasn't watching us.

He followed my gaze. "Yeah, if you'll promise that we can talk about it later."

I nodded reluctantly. Anything to make him stop talking about it right now.

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. "Okay. So be thinking about what you want for dinner, then," he said as he straightened to his full, impressive height. He tucked a curl behind my ear before he walked over to speak with Sarah.

Five minutes later, I had decided that I definitely needed a manicure, since my cuticles were awful, I wanted something other than Pino's for dinner, and Les had the best ass in all of New Jersey, possibly the whole US. But then he was back with a very thick stack of printed out of stuff.

"Ready, Beautiful?" he asked.

I nodded and he held out one hand to help me to my feet.

I accepted his help and turned to Sarah. "Thank you for your help. We'd still be looking at tile without you!" I told her with a smile.

She smiled back. "You're welcome. My name and everything is on the first page, so just let me know if you need anything else. And bring in some pictures once you're done! I'd love to see how it all turns out."

"We will," I told her with a fond grin. "Thank you again."

With that, Les wrapped his arm around me and guided me out to his SUV. "Where to, Beautiful?"

"Anyplace other than Pino's," I replied. "I run into Morelli every time I step foot in there lately, and I'm just not in the mood to deal with him tonight."

Les turned to look at me. "Is he giving you trouble?" he asked in a soft growl.

"No, he just seems to think that I should ignore the fact that he cheated on me. Same old bullshit as usual. 'Cupcake, Bob misses you. The boys miss you.' Then he'll ask me to come watch a game," I replied with a grimace. "I keep telling him no, but that just seems to make him more eager to wear me down or something."

Les slammed his hand against the steering wheel and I jumped. "Son of a bitch!" he practically roared. "First he cheated on you, and now he expects you to forgive that? What the fuck?"

I reached out and put my hand on his tense arm. "Hey, it's not like it matters. There's no way in hell I'm ever getting back with him, no matter what. And well, with things between us like they are, well, I don't want to mess anything up," I told him. "So you don't need to worry about him."

It took him a minute to get himself under control. "I'm not worried that you'll give in to him, baby, I'm pissed that he would even try after what he did," Les explained, his face still hard and foreboding.

I scooted across the seat and inserted myself into his arms. "Don't worry about Morelli. Last I heard, Terry's Uncle Vito wasn't very happy with him either, so he'll be getting his sooner than later. And it's not smart to mess with the Family," I reminded him.

That coaxed a half smile from Les. "Maybe. But it's not wise to mess with me and mine either," he said in a flat voice.

"Oh, just think of the look on his face when he finds out that I'm yours," I cajoled. "He'll shit a brick!"

That earned a full smile. "Yeah. He will. But are you mine?"

Shit. Trust him to pick up on that line. "Yeah, you know I am. I've been trying to be honest with you, the thought of being married again scares the crap out of me, but this thing with us, well, it's great. I like it. I'm trying, I really am, to figure everything out as fast as I can."

I guess he needs a little reassurance, too. So cute.

With that, he kissed me gently. "I know. And I'm trying to be patient. Don't let me push you on this, okay? I love you, you know this, but I don't want to push you into anything. I don't want you to feel pressured. When you're ready, you let me know. Okay?"

I kissed him back. "Okay. But you need to feed me now before I starve to death."

He laughed and kissed my nose. "Yes, ma'am. Sure you don't want to go to Pino's and let me go all macho Latin lover on Morelli's ass?"

I laughed at the mental image. "Not tonight, my Latin lover."

"So maybe tomorrow night?" he asked in a hopeful tone.

I grinned. "Maybe."

"Deal. How about Mexican then?"

I shrugged. "I need lots of food, and fast. I don't care what kind."

He grinned and put the car in gear. "Los Amigos is fast and good."

"Then drive on," I ordered as I slid back over to my seat and put my seatbelt on.

He was right, it was fast and good, and the portions were gigantic. Considering how hungry I was, that was a very good thing!

Les brought in the stack of papers from Lowe's and the stuff from his architect, Charlie, to look through. "Damn, Beautiful, I think we picked out just about everything but the paint! The only thing left is to decide what color to refinish the hardwood floors."

"Which rooms will have wood floors?" I asked as I sucked down a glass of Diet Coke and practically annihilated the chips and salsa.

"All except the bathrooms. Those will be tile," Les replied as he ate a chip dripping with salsa.

"What about the bedrooms?" I asked.

"Wood. Figured we'd get some big area rugs to make it a little softer on the feet. But old houses like that pretty much had wood or tile floors, and I've been trying to go historically accurate when possible. Would that work for you?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me. I just haven't ever lived in a place that didn't have carpet in the bedrooms, so it was a surprise."

"Baby, maybe I'm being real optimistic here, but I hope you'll be living there with me as soon as the renovations are done. So I want you to be happy. If you'd rather have carpet in the bedrooms, we'll have them put down carpet over the wood floors," he insisted.

I reached out to grab his hand. "Les, please. This is your house. You bought it and want to make it historically accurate, so do what you want with it. And honestly, wall-to-wall or area rug carpet doesn't matter to me in the slightest."

He sighed. "I just want you to feel comfortable there."

"I do. I will. If you're there, I'll be comfortable there."

"Yeah, but I want you to be comfortable there if I'm not there. If I'm gone on business or something, I want you to be at home there too. That's why I wanted you to help me pick out stuff. Yeah, part of it was because I don't have the first fucking clue how to pick out shit, but part of it was because I want you to be able to look around our house and see stuff that we picked out together."

Way to melt a girl's heart, Santos. "You're the sweetest guy around, did you know that?"

He looked disgusted and ate another chip. Guess badasses don't do sweet.

I grinned. "No really, you are. I'm being all freaked out about everything, and I'm sure it's making you nuts, but you still want me to help pick out stuff for your house."

"Beautiful, I told you that I'd be patient. I've waited for years, never expecting that I'd be anything but friends with you. So you take whatever time you need to be sure. Because once you decide that you're really mine, I'm never letting you go. It's forever, Beautiful," he cautioned.

My heart, and doo dah, warmed at that thought of forever with Les.

"You're incredible," I murmured. "And I don't deserve you."

"Baby, I don't deserve you. I've done a lot of bad shit in my life. I've been a player because I figured no woman would truly want me once she got to know me and all the dark and twisted shit I've done. Hell, that I still do sometimes if I have to. But you know me better than any woman in the world, even my mom and sisters, and you still seem to think I'm an okay guy. So I don't deserve you."

Okay, this is getting entirely too emotional. "So hardwood floors?" I asked.

He laughed at me. "Too emotional?"

"Damn skippy."

He grinned. We discussed options for a bit until the food arrived, but we ultimately decided on a lighter colored finish for the floors. With the darker wood tones we both liked for furniture, we figured lighter colored floors would be best since it would be too hard to match the floors with furniture finishes. Plus we could always change up how the floor looked with the area rugs.

After a dessert of deep fried ice cream, which left me moaning and Les groaning at my moaning, we headed back to my apartment, since it was closer and I was beyond tired.

"No problem, baby. Your place is fine, we just have to cuddle a little closer on your bed," he said with waggling eyebrows.

I smiled. "Somehow, I doubt you see that as a hardship," I said wryly.

"Oh, it's hard alright, Beautiful," he replied.

I blushed and looked away. Les, one. Stephanie, zero.

"You're sexy when your cheeks go all pink like that," Les mused as he drove. "Makes me think about when I've done something to really turn you on, 'cause your face flushes like that then too."

And with that, my face went fire engine red again. "Les!"

He shot me a smug grin. "Yeah, baby?"

"Stop it!"

"No way, Beautiful. Too much fun, and you're too damn sexy when you look like that," he told me. Les, two. Stephanie, still zero.

So I just rolled my eyes and looked out the window while he drove back to my apartment. He scooped up the stack of papers from the backseat and grabbed a black overnight bag that I hadn't noticed from the floorboard.

Then he was holding his hand out to me as we took the elevator up. Huh, guess he knows me after all.

Author's note: Sorry for dropping off the face of the planet!

So it's been an insane few days. Wednesday was just plain busy, and I ran from one meeting to the next. Sometimes literally. I'm sure I looked cute dashing across campus in my heels. By the time I finally had a free minute when I got home, it was after 8 pm and I was completely wiped out and the thought of even editing stuff I'd already written was beyond what my brain could handle.

Then yesterday I met with my dissertation chair and he basically told me to start over with chapter 4. I spent months and untold hours writing that 80 page academic document with almost no guidance from him, and then he said he didn't like how I had it organized and that I needed to completely redo it. I managed to suppress my first reaction, uncontrollable tears, and even my second, a strong urge to commit murder, but my third was general anger and rage that I still haven't gotten over. He gave me only 3 sentences worth of guidance, which I followed, and now he doesn't like what I did. Well, maybe if you gave me some freaking help on what you wanted from me, I wouldn't have wasted four damn months writing 80 pages that you now say is basically worthless!

Can you tell I'm seriously displeased?

So I was in such a dour state of mind by the time that I got home that I just couldn't handle anything beyond shoving comfort food in my face and then going to sleep. I think I'm turning into Stephanie Plum! If only I had a few Merry Men to got put the fear of God into my dissertation director…

And then my grandmother-in-law had another stroke (or stokes) last night and we're waiting to hear back on how she's doing.

This week officially sucks. I want a do over!

So here's a very late chapter. I'll do my best to post at least one chapter over the weekend to make up for missing two days!

Please, PLEASE review. I need them more than you can possible know!