Page 77 of Badd Ass

He tugged her shirt down, baring her tits. “Marking my territory,” he explained. He signed his name with a flourish across the slope of one breast, and then the other. “There. Now it’s official. Your tits are mine.”

She glared at him, trying desperately to hold on to her stern, angry face. “You didn’t need to write your name on them for that to be official, douchebag.”

“No, but now every time you look at them, you’ll be reminded.”

She blinked up at him. “How much time do you think I spend staring at my tits, Brock?”

He shrugged. “It’s hard for me to be objective being a guy, and one who’s ridiculously attracted to your tits.”

“You’re an idiot,” she murmured, clearly meaning it as an endearment.

“Yes, but I’myouridiot.” Brock kissed her, and then stood her up on her feet, tugging her shirt back into place. “Now, let’s get these boxes down to the truck.”

He suited action to words, propping open the door, lifting two boxes, and carrying them out the apartment and down the stairs.

I couldn’t help laughing as Claire stood in front of the mirror by the front door, and pulled her shirt down to stare at Brock’s handiwork. “I can’t believe he signedbothof them. And he’s not even famous!”

“I think he’s pretty perfect for you, Claire,” I said. “You may have some differences to work out, but from where I’m standing, I’d say it’d be damn well worth it.”

She glanced at me in the mirror, letting her shirt slide back into place. “Like I said before, some things are easier said than done.”

* * *

Let me just say, moving is a hell of a lot easier when there are eight burly men around to help. My things were moved from the seaplane to the apartment over the bar in less than thirty minutes. Zane and I had agreed it’d make the most sense for me to live with him above the bar until we found a place of our own, so for now most of my things would go into storage in the basement beneath the bar, which was a tight, cramped space they only used for storing extra cases of liquor and as a workout room. My boxes filled it to overflowing, but it was only temporary, so Bast had said it would be fine.

Zane had condensed his clothes and stacked some in a few laundry baskets to give me room for my clothes, which was a sweet gesture, but fairly pointless, given the amount of clothing I owned. I would be able to fill the drawers with the essentials, hang up my favorite jeans and blouses and dresses in the half of the closet he’d given me, and I still had three contractor bags and two suitcases left over.

Zane pointed at the bags. “So, what’s in those?”

I hung my favorite sweater in the closet. “More clothes.”

He pointed at the suitcases. “And those?”

“Clothes.”

He scratched his scalp. “Then…what’s in all the boxes down in the basement?”

“Stuff? My snow globe collection, my mugs, photo albums, folders of paperwork, my coffeemaker, books, DVDs. Just…stuff.” I looked around at his room, which I just now was realizing contained very little by way of personal effects. “You really don’t have anything but what’s in this room?”

He lifted a hand. “I was a Navy SEAL, Mara. I was either on assignment or on base, so everything I owned all fit into a footlocker and a duffel. Never got in the habit of acquiring knickknacks.”

I eyed the open drawers, and then the closet. “And those are all the clothes you own?” I did a quick tally. “Six pairs of jeans, eight long sleeve shirts, ten undershirts, three button-downs, a dozen pairs of underwear, the same amount of socks, one leather jacket, and two sweaters?”

He followed my gaze. “Um, yeah?”

“We need to go shopping. You don’t even have one pair of jeans for every day of the week!”

He gestured around at the tiny room. “And where are we gonna put it, babe? Not even all your clothes are gonna fit in here, much less more of mine.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to start apartment hunting soon, won’t we?”

He sighed. “I guess so. But, just so you know, I’ve never done that.”

I glanced at him as I refolded underwear and stacked them in the top drawer. “Done what?”

“Bought an apartment.”

I laughed. “You don’t buy apartments, usually, you rent them.” I tilted my head. “And you’ve never once lived in an apartment?”