Page 50 of Score Her Heart

She put her hands on her hips and stared at me with a cocked red eyebrow as if challenging me. I took the pushcart and pulled the box we needed on top of it. It was heavy, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I glanced up and saw she was still giving me that furious look.

“Don’t be like that, Fi.”

She sighed and ran a hand across her face. “I’m sorry. You know how I don’t like to ask for help.”

“No? You?” I asked sarcastically.

She glared. “Riley, you don’t have to be this guy. You don’t have to feel like you need to take care of me.”

I pulled her toward me by her slender waist and grinned as she blushed at the public display of affection. I gave her a quick kiss. “Shush. I want to. I’m your husband. Let me provide for you.”

“But you don’t have to,” she argued.

I gave her another kiss to soften her edges. “But I want to.”

That seemed to shut her up, so we went to the checkout, and she didn’t refuse this time when I paid for her damn bookshelves. I loaded the SUV with the boxes, not really looking forward to having to put it together, but I would do this for her with no complaints. She was being so stubborn today, and I couldn’t stand it. Didn’t we literally talk about trying to make this thing work? She was really gonna make me work to woo her.

Fi was looking at her phone when I got into the driver’s seat. I checked the clock and saw it was around lunchtime. Fi looked up when I started the engine. She put a gentle hand on my arm. “Thank you. For doing this for me. I know this isn’t exactly how you want to spend your day off.”

I grabbed her hand in my bigger one and brought it to my lips to kiss it. “I want to spend time with you.”

Her eyes crinkled when she smiled at me. “In that case, do you want to go to South Street today? I wanted to stop in the comic book store. There’s a good Italian restaurant next door where we could go for lunch.”

“Sounds like a date.”

“Is it?” she asked cautiously and bit her lip.

“What?”

“Is it a date?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

She shook her head. I kissed her hand one last time before letting her go and putting both hands back on the steering wheel.

We found a parking garage and then walked several blocks down to South Street. I didn’t mind, because walking in the city with her hand in mine was the best feeling in the world.

I had always dated women who were smaller than me - being six feet tall, that was a given - but Fi’s five-foot-nine height made her just a tiny bit shorter than me. I liked a tall, lean woman like Fi with legs for days and a nice ass. I had never really been a big breast-man, but I liked Fi’s. Not too small but not too big. They didn’t necessarily fit in the palm of my big hands, but they were nice. And shit, I was thinking about my wife’s tits in the middle of a public street. The tightening in my jeans reminded me that I should stop that right now.

She cocked an eyebrow at me while she stepped up into the comic book store. “What’s that face for?” she asked.

I let her drag me inside. “What face?”

“You have your horny face on.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked with a laugh.

She laughed. “You do! You make a face when you’re horny. Has no one ever told you that?”

She was still laughing as she pulled me into the back of the shop. There were rows upon rows of thick collections of comics from the floor to the ceiling. She eyed the thick, hard-back binding of what looked like an entire comic run in one book. I didn’t know shit about comics or any of this nerd shit, but the look on her face when she searched was enough to make me want to watch her look at books all day.

Was that weird?

Probably.

She crouched down to look at the bottom shelf, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t turn my head a little and stare at her ass. God, my wife was hot. She pulled a couple of soft-cover comics out of the stacks and stood back up. A red eyebrow arched at me again, and I realized I was still staring.

She reached her hand up to grip my jaw between her fingers. “Eyes up here, buddy,” she teased.