Page 18

King

“King, I don’t need all of that.”

“I plan on coming over for dinner. That means I need you to have it.”

“That’s insane. Besides, all of this won’t fit in my car when I go to Denver. There will be too much stuff.”

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes. For now, it will be in your kitchen where it belongs,” I counter.

We’ve been shopping for over two hours. All of that has been in one store.

Gabby took forever looking at curtains and sheets.

Then, she got lost picking out paint colors.

I picked up her gray color she wanted, with one small caveat.

I asked the woman there about paint fumes and pregnant women.

She directed me to the section made especially for that purpose.

It contains less VOC’s—whatever the hell that means.

I know it was more expensive and when Gabby tried to balk, I put my foot down.

This is where a fight ensued. Mine by being an ass, her by being silent.

It was a stalemate until I tried to pay.

Then Gabby turned into a rabid dog. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had bitten me.

The woman got so worked up I started worrying about the baby.

For that reason, I let her pay for the paint.

Since then, though, I’ve been putting shit into her cart I know she needs and have made it clear I’m paying.

She thought she was being smart and tried to take it out when I pretended to be distracted.

It was a strategy that was fun to thwart.

Things escalated to the point where I tagged a store worker to secretly collect the items she was putting back and place them in a separate cart.

Gabby will lose her mind when she sees what I’ve done, but I don’t give a damn.

The only thing we’ve agreed on without a clash are the curtains, blankets, and paint for the baby’s room.

I don’t know much about colors, but the pale green she chose is pretty, and the baby blanket has greens, browns, and yellows in it.

I find myself hoping she’s carrying a boy, because it seems to me a little girl should be covered in pastel colors, but then what do I know?

“Are we finished, you think?” I ask when she just seems to be wondering along, lost in her own world.

“I think so. When I get paid again, I’ll come back and get those yellow curtains and sheets for my room. I don’t mind waiting. I can make do with what I have now. Yellow would definitely brighten that room, and the length of the curtains can fool others into thinking the window is bigger.”

I nod, not bothering to tell her it is already in another buggy, or to ask how in the hell curtains can make a tiny window appear bigger.

For one, she can’t make the latter make sense, and as for the curtains and sheets, that’s the first thing I told the guy to collect.

I also told him to pick up the gray thing she called a coverlet and the fluffy pillow covers that had tiny yellow flowers on them.

Trust me, it wasn’t easy to explain what I wanted either.

I’m pretty sure the guy thought I was insane until I told him I’d pay him two hundred bucks.

I figure at that point he knew I was insane, but just didn’t care.

“Let’s head on out then. I’m starting to get hungry.

We can run by the grocery store, and you can dazzle me with your cooking. ”

“I don’t cook a lot,” she warns. “I make some things good, though. Well, at least I think they’re good.”

“I’m sure I will, too, then,” I assure her, making myself a promise that I will eat whatever she fixes and act like I’ve never had anything better.

It won’t matter tonight. By the time we get back the crew should be there.

Dani texted me and said it was going to be potluck, but that I needed to buy a grill while I was out.

She said we needed it for the steaks that Dragon and Crusher were bringing along.

“Hey, do you mind if we go back to the outdoor section? There’s something I need, since I’m going to be staying here for a while. ”

“You are?” she asks immediately, and I like the happiness I hear in her voice. She doesn’t want me to leave.

“Yeah. It’s a good club. I like the men. Plus, I’d like to be around when jellybean is born. It’s not every day that your best friend brings another person into the world.”

“King …” she whispers, heavy emotion in her voice.

“Friendship is a two-way street, Gabby. If you think I’m your first true friend, you should know you’re mine, too. I’ve allowed you in deeper than anyone I know.”

“That’s sweet. I doubt that, though. You were married. I’m sure Shelby knows things I’ll never uncover.”

I think about that but shake my head. “Oddly enough, not so much. In the beginning, I guess we shared. Now, that I think back, after learning where I came from, it slowly became all about her family. It seemed to be one drama after another that we had to deal with. Which was fine, but I just slowly stopped putting myself out there, you know?”

“Boy, do I,” she jokes, making me smile as I shake off the bitter memories. “What is it you’re going to buy?” she asks, and I know she’s changing the subject for my sake. I take her hand and lean in to kiss her forehead again, letting her know her efforts aren’t unappreciated.

“I need a grill.”

Her face scrunches up and I watch with a smile on her face. “Dude, the clubhouse has like five grills and one huge one with a smoker. I don’t think you need to add another to the mix,” she cautions.

“Did you just call me dude?”

“Eek,” she whispers, as if she just caught it. “It slipped out.”

“Woman, I am not a dude.”

“You kind of are.”

“Gabby—”

Her hand comes up and presses against my chest. “You’re a dude with a big dick. Is that better?” she asks with a grin.

I throw my head back and laugh. “Yeah, sweetheart. That’s better,” I finally answer, looking down at her. Gabby is looking up, staring at me with eyes that seem glued to my face. She’s wearing a wide smile that a man could get lost in. Just like that, Dragon’s words come floating back into my head.

She feeds the man inside so that he’s better because he has her.

This woman will give her sweetness, her laughter, and joy, her calm, her temper, and most importantly, her love.

Love—that she will give completely in a way that no matter what happens, she won’t take it away.

This woman doesn’t mind telling you that and does it in a way that you know if you hurt her, it will fucking destroy her.

She’ll have his back and fight a war with him to keep what they have.

Fuck me. He’s right. I can see it in Gabby. How in the hell did this happen?

I push my thoughts aside and we spend the next thirty minutes buying a pellet grill and smoker combo that I told her I’m going to keep at her place. I thought she’d have a cow again. Instead, she just shook her head.

“King, I don’t grill. If you think you’re buying that for me, you’re sadly mistaken. That’s big dick territory, honey, and I don’t have one.”

After I finished laughing, I told her I intended to have a lot of dinners at her house while she was here, and I’d be doing the grilling.

She still tried to kick in on it, but I told her there was no way that grill would be going to Colorado, which proved it truly was mine. With that, she let it go.

I already know our real fight is going to happen at the checkout.

She begins putting stuff she bought—a very small pile to show for the hours we’ve been here—on the conveyor belt.

The stuff I managed to keep piled in—which wasn’t a lot—stays in the buggy.

In respect of her wishes, I let her pay for her items—including those cheap-ass sheets that I never want her using.

Those things were so itchy, they’d harm your skin.

I’m sure of it. Once that was done. I put my items on the belt, then motion to the guy that I’ve deemed my personal shopper. He moves the buggy up behind me.

“Here ya go, man,” he says helpfully. Then, he goes behind the counter to help the checkout girl by bagging everything.

“What did you do?” Gabby demands, her voice laced with anger and something else that I can’t define.

“I had him collect all the shit that you kept putting back that you didn’t think I caught you doing. Sorry, Sunshine, I saw through your ploy from minute one.”

“I didn’t have these in the buggy!” she growls, picking up the comforter and matching pillow things.

“Nope, but they should have been, so I made it happen,” I inform her.

“Well, you can unmake it happen!”

“Nope, it’s done,” I tell her and to prove I’m right, I look at the girl who is checking us out. “Ring these up now,” I snap. She takes them immediately, her hands trembling slightly like she’s afraid I’ll slam her against the wall if she refuses.

“Stop being mean to the nice checkout lady. She’s not responsible for you being a jerk!”

“How am I a jerk? I’m trying to buy you the things you need. Things you also like, by the way.”

“Because I’m trying to start over and pay for my own stuff. I want to make my own way,” she grumbles.

“The lady kind of has a point,” the checkout lady replies quietly. I look at her and pin her with a look that makes her take a step back.

“Thank you!” Gabby exclaims to her, making the woman smile.

“It’s my money and I want to spend it on you. I should get to choose where I spend it, woman,” I argue back.

“He’s kind of right,” my personal shopper says. “I don’t see the big deal. He’s spending his money on his woman and he’s obviously doing it for you. I mean, no man I know would willingly buy pillow shams with little yellow flowers on them.”

Shams. That’s what she called them.

“I’m not his. I’m my own person,” Gabby huffs, and damn if that doesn’t piss me off—even though it shouldn’t.