Heaven and Hell (Heaven and Hell #1)(128)

“Yes, and I can rent one from Avis or something, like you did when you were in Indiana.”

Sam’s head cocked to the side again and his brows drew together again at the same time which I thought might be a scary combination.

“Baby, I live here.”

I was getting kind of impatient. “I know, Sam.”

“And you’re my woman.”

Uh-oh. Not this again.

I had a feeling there was an additional nuance to me being his woman that he thought I should get that I did not.

“Sam –” I began to tell him this but he turned fully to me, lifting his hands and curling his fingers around either side of my neck, his face dipping to my face, his was serious so I shut up.

And I would find he was serious when he said, “This isn’t a vacation for you. You’re not here a few days to relax and enjoy the beach and then goin’ home never to come back. I didn’t just buy four vases because my woman wanted to fill the house with flowers. I bought four vases because my woman’s livin’ at my house and she’s the kinda woman who fills the house with flowers.”

Oh boy. I had a feeling that explained the garlic press.

Sam went on, “I dig that you gotta sort out what you gotta sort out at home. When I’m there with you, we’ll sort out what I gotta sort out when I’m in Indiana with you once you got what you gotta sort out sorted.”

Right, I followed that… kind of.

He kept going. “But we don’t have shit to sort for you when you’re here except this, gettin’ you a ride. So I’m sorting it.”

Light was dawning.

“Are you saying I’m going to be here often enough to need a car?”

This got the head cock, eyebrow draw and narrowed eyes which was definitely scary.

“Uh… yeah.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

“You with me?” he asked.

“Um… yes,” I answered then foolishly queried, “Am, I, uh… paying –?”

I didn’t finish.

Sam cut me off with a firm, unyielding, deeply growled, “Kia.”

I pressed my lips together.

Then I ventured, “Okay, then, uh… can I point out you already have a gas guzzling utility vehicle and perhaps we should spare the environment another gas guzzling utility vehicle?”

Luckily, that made Sam grin, his hands went from my neck to become arms wrapped loosely around me and he kept grinning down at me when he replied, “You can point it out but you’re still gettin’ a Cherokee.”

This was when my brows drew together.

“Sam! I have to drive it.”

“Yeah, and it’s safe, if you don’t drive reckless and roll it. Someone hits you and you’re in a Cherokee, they may not come out breathin’ but you will.”

This point held merit so I didn’t debate it.

Sam finished with, “But you can pick the color if you want.”

Well, that was something.

I glanced through the lot and, I had to admit, the green was really cool. It was so dark, it was nearly black. And since Sam’s truck was black, they’d kind of match.

I looked back and told him, “I like the green.”

“Right,” he muttered, grinning again.

Then, I didn’t know what came over me, I blurted, “You have a garlic press.”

This only got me a head c**k for which I was relieved.

“Come again?”

I said it; I had to go with it.

“You have a garlic press.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed.

“I find that surprising,” I shared.

“Why?”

Hmm. How to traverse this?

Luckily, as my mind whizzed from thought to thought Sam spoke.

“I like to cook but while doin’ it I don’t like to f**k around with shit that takes ten minutes when I can spend twenty-five dollars on something that’ll make it take ten seconds.”

Whoa. There was a lot there.

I started with the easy part.

“You spent twenty-five dollars on a garlic press?”

He grinned again and asked, “Are you not gettin’ that I like the best?”

This was true.

So I kept going, “You cook?”

His grin got bigger and he replied, “I’m thirty-five, I’m a bachelor, I’ve always been a bachelor and I was an athlete then a soldier. No one’s gonna take care of my body but me so I do but I like food. You wanna take care of your body and you like food, you learn to be creative. I learned. Before that, I was a kid with a Mom who worked full-time, sometimes she had a part-time job on top of that and I had a little brother. She put me in charge and part of bein’ in charge was gettin’ both of us fed. Canned soup and TV dinners get old real quick. You want better, you learn to make better. So, again, I learned.”

I thought this was cool and sweet.

Before I could share that with Sam, he kept talking as his loose arms got tighter, “You don’t race back to Indiana, I’ll show you what I can do in the kitchen.”

“Will it include carbs?” I asked.

That got me a full-fledged smile and a soft, “I can do carbs.”

I melted into him and replied softly back, “Then I won’t race back to Indiana.”