Page 37 of Holley Jolly Biker
I listened to him. Took in his words.
And decided to mentally say, fuck it.
The way this man was.
The way I’ve never been treated.
So, I asked... “Can I rearrange the kitchen?”
He threw his head back and laughed, then he nodded, “Baby, you can change anythin’ your little heart fuckin’ desires.”
I lifted a brow at him.
He winked, “Tellin’ you right now. You want to change the whole house layout, you just say the word. You want to paint all the rooms, tell me what you need, and I’ll get it. You want to paint the house pink on the outside, you tell me, and I’ll see that it’s done. Don’t ever hesitate to make this house your home. Because that’s what it is. Okay?”
Those were the words Saint had said to me the morning after we moved in with him.
Four days later, standing at the paint counter, I took Saint’s words to heart.
Then I bought the paint.
Three hours later, with paint in our hair and on our clothes, Soraya and I stepped back from the wall.
The wall at the mouth of the hallway that was caddy cornered in a way and surveyed our work.
It didn’t look bad.
Not bad at all.
Seeing as it was almost Thanksgiving, I had this idea a long time ago when I still allowed myself to daydream about what life could be like.
And every season, I had wanted to paint a wall to match it. That was why the wall was now a deep burnt orange in color.
Yes, it would probably seem weird to other people, but to me, it made complete sense.
Taking in Saint’s words, if something made sense to me, then it didn’t matter what anyone else thought.
And now, because of this amazing man I had the pleasure of meeting on a chance encounter, I was living that dream.
***
I was at the bathroom counter curling my hair.
Saint had called me earlier in the day and asked if it would be okay for Soraya to go over to Harold and Lilly’s house to help Lilly make cookies for a bake sale her school was having.
He also told me that he wanted to do something special with me.
Therefore, I was curling my hair.
Saint had left to take Soraya to Harold and Lilly’s.
I had just finished my hair and applied a light coat of eyeliner and mascara when I felt strong arms wrap around my waist.
His face nuzzled in the side of my neck, his lips skimming side to side, “Mmm, you smell good.”
I giggled, and then I inhaled an amazing scent that was all Saint.
Turning my face slightly, I said, “So do you.”