Page 81

KEENE

“T his is the last box,” I announced, lugging the cardboard carton into my bedroom and dropping it heavily on top of a dozen other boxes that littered the floor.

Waverly poked her head out of the closet, where she was hanging up slacks and dresses, and my heart pounded with delight.

I still couldn’t believe she’d finally agreed to move in with me.

It had taken me four damn months to talk her into it after she’d left her parents’ house and found a way-too-expensive, way-too-cramped, way-too-shitty one-bedroom apartment to live in.

But finally, I’d won her over and drawn her to Archer House.

Or maybe it’d been Damien’s cheap-as-fuck rent and big, spacious kitchen and not the fact that she could wake up each morning with me wrapped around her that had actually changed her mind. But I was going to continue to believe it was all me.

“Did you find Bessie?” she asked.

That damn cow.

First of all, it was a stuffed cow . Weird.

But aside from that, some other guy had given it to her.

I know, I know. It’d been a gift from her babysitter back when she was fucking nine, and there’d been no romantic undertones around it at all, but still.

I got jealous over stupid shit, alright?

And I didn’t like knowing some other dude—whether he was currently unalive or not—still owned a piece of her affections enough that she wanted to keep a present from him.

Plus, I had serious issues about having any kind of stuffed animal on my bed—or even on what Waverly’s mother had reminded me would now be our bed. That had been my limit. No fucking stuffed animals.

Her dad—who had thankfully reconciled with her mom—had commiserated with my plight and offered to take the ugly-ass cow back home with them and leave it on Waverly’s childhood bed, but Waverly had blasted me with her big brown eyes, and her vagina powers had kicked in until I was throwing up my hands in defeat.

“Fuck. Fine. The cow can stay,” I muttered moodily.

But I guess she still hadn’t trusted me not to accidentally lose Bessie in the move because she’d looked for the fucking thing in each new box I carried inside.

Which meant I was totally prepared for her question this time as I dug my hand into the open top and said, “Oh, you mean…this guy?”

“Bessie.” She sighed gratefully and opened her arms as I tossed him to her.

Catching the black and white blob to her chest, she closed her eyes in contentment and hugged it lovingly to her chest—making my teeth clench because I wanted to be the only thing lovingly smashed to those breasts—and she sent me a grateful look. “Thank you.”

Her smile made all the heat I was going to catch from my buddies for having a damned stuffed animal on my bed worth it. And I plunged my hand back into the box, saying, “It was just hanging out in here with its new…roommate.”

And I pulled up a second animal.

Waverly paused in the middle of setting her cow in the center of the pillows at the head of the bed and looked over.

Her eyebrows shot up in question. “What is that ?”

“This is Xaden,” I answered happily. “I got Bessie a buddy.” And tossing him onto the mattress, next to the lame cow, I checked them out together, sitting next to each other before nodding my approval.

Waverly, on the other hand, shook her head in confusion before she turned to face me with both hands on her hips as if outraged. “You made such a stink about having one stuffed animal on the bed that you had to go out and get a second one?”

“I mean…” I shrugged. “If there’s going to be a stuffed animal at all on our bed, it at least has to be something badass, like a dragon.” I motioned pointedly to Xaden. “You know, to make the cow look cooler. So… They kind of need each other. Don’t you think?”

Waverly blinked at the lime green dragon that made poor Bessie look very monochromatic and boring.

Which had basically been done on purpose because my stuffed animal gift had to stand out way more than Zane’s —may he rest in peace.

No offense, bro, seriously. But suck it. My presents were better than yours.

“That thing’s a dragon ?” Eyebrows furrowed in doubt, Waverly glanced at the pair, only to turn back and smirk knowingly. “And you named it Xaden? Really?”

“What?” I lifted one shoulder, thinking I looked innocent enough to convince her I knew nothing. “Is that, like, a big name in the dragon world or something?”

Brown eyes glittering with delight, she stepped toward me and danced her fingers teasingly up my chest. “You’ve been sneaking into that book series Xander’s making me read, haven’t you?”

I scoffed, fully intending to deny it, but she looked so fucking happy that I’d been curious enough about her recent obsession with a new genre of books I gave up the act pretty much immediately.

Throwing up my hands in annoyance, I shouted, “That dickhole has better lines than me.”

It wasn’t even right, dammit.

Grinning, Waverly looped her arms around my neck and rose onto her toes to nuzzle her nose against my ear as she whispered, “Your jealousy of a fictional character is cute as hell, I hope you know that.”

“Cute?” I pulled back to lift my eyebrows, my expression foreboding.

Waverly’s eyes flared with panic. “Oh, shit,” she breathed, probably remembering how Oaklynn and Faith and basically all of my friends’ girlfriends had warned her about how sensitive I was to being called cute or adorable. “Did I say cute? I didn’t mean cute.”

Instead of pushing her away and getting offended, though, I wrapped my arms around her and tugged her onto the bed with me until she was perched on my lap.

“You did too,” I argued with a husky chuckle as I set my mouth against her throat and began to nibble. “But just so you know, you are the only person I will ever let call me cute because it’s hot as fuck when it comes from your mouth.”

Grinning, she pulled back to clutch my face in her hands and hit me with a breathtaking smile. “I love you, you cute-cute man,” she said with so much emotion that I could actually feel the sentiment blast from her pores and wrap around me in a physical caress.

Groaning, I sank toward her, absolute putty in her arms. “God, I love you too.” Our lips barely touched, just a sweet, drugging brush before she pulled back again to murmur, “And despite the fact there isn’t actually a dragon with that name in any of those books, I love my new dragon too. Thank you.”

“Really?” My eyebrows arched with pleasure. “You like him?”

She nodded. “I love every gift you give me.”

“Well, thank the Lord.” I let out a big sigh of relief. “Because I got you another moving-in present even better than this one.”

“Keene,” she cried in exasperation as I reached under the bed and pulled out a flat, wrapped box. “You really need to stop spoiling me.”

“Sure, sure,” I countered with a wink. “Just as soon as you stop spoiling me .” Because she let me have my way, way more than I deserved.

Heaving out a hassled breath, she gave me a stern look that said thank you and stop all at the same time.

Ignoring it, I set the box on her lap and prompted, “Open it.”

“But I didn’t get you anything,” she complained even as she reached for the bow.

I shook my head. “I’m not moving in anywhere new.”

Growing a little more eager, she tore into the wrapping paper, then lifted the lid, only to pause at the pink and white gingham cloth that was revealed.

Glancing at me in utter confusion, she said, “What the hell is it?”

“It’s a shepherdess outfit,” I said, unable to contain my excitement as I plucked it from the box for her and held it up with both hands to display it fully.

Her mouth fell open as she gaped in dismay at the slutty Halloween costume.

The dress would barely fall to the tops of her thighs.

To go with the pink and white plaid, it had short, white puffy sleeves, a white form-fitting corset, and a poofy skirt with white lace peeking from the hem, plus crisscrossing strings to make the torso nice and snug.

But that wasn’t all. Oh no. Then there were white, fishnet thigh highs with silky pink bows at the top, some lacy white gloves, a pair of pink Mary Jane shoes, and a pink bonnet with a white sash to tie under her chin that were still sitting in the bottom of the box to complete the look.

Waverly blinked once, then twice before she glanced questioningly at me. “Wha…?”

I couldn’t stop the shit-eating grin I knew was stretched across my face. “A sheep herding costume,” I prompted, lifting my brows. “You know, since you want to be a Swedish goat herder.”

Immediately frowning, she motioned toward the costume. “I have a feeling no goat herder in the history of ever has worn something even remotely similar to this utter ridiculousness.”

“Ridiculousness?” My jaw dropped in offense. “Well, you can be the first then.” And sniffing moodily, I followed it up with a wink and a bounce of my eyebrows. “Because I like it.”

“Shocker,” she deadpanned, not at all amused.

Totally unruffled by her lack of enthusiasm, I brightened even more. “Ooh. I forgot the best part.”

As I scooted her off my lap and onto the mattress next to me so I could pop off it, I went down on my knees to dig deeper under the bed again.

“Oh God,” she groaned. “There’s more?”

“Yep. And—aha! There it is.” Latching my hands around the pole, I yanked it out and held it up proudly.

Waverly lurched backward in horror. “What the hell is that ?”

“It’s a shepherd’s hook,” I said, tossing it from one hand to another, then twirling it for more pizzazz as I grinned at her.

“Doubles as a walking staff. And this part right here.” I motioned to the curved end.

“That’s to catch wayward sheep—or goats in your case.

If one of your flock gets stuck in the mud or something, you just hook this little crook around their neck, like so, and?—”

“Keene,” she warned, lifting a finger when I extended the hook in her direction. “Don’t you even dare.”