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“You’ll find out.”
Their destination turned out to be a garage sale on the other side of town. “I checked the ads this morning.” Mary slammed the van door and headed toward tables set up on the front lawn of a trim bungalow. “They said they have quilts.”
“Ah, I have a clue. This huggling business involves quilts.”
“You can guess any time.”
“Nahh,” Van said, “you’re not nearly through tormenting me with curiosity.”
“Here, what about this one?” Mary spread out a lumpy, thread-bare red quilt with pink polka dots. She giggled.
He shielded his eyes. “The colors! Oh, the agony.”
“But they match the colors of your face when I make you blush.”
The sound of her new giggle echoed cheerfully in the pit of his stomach.
Mary sauntered off on her renewed search. Van kept himself happily occupied watching how her bottom rounded out her jeans as she moved from table to table.
Suddenly she pounced. “This is it.”
He strolled over, willing to look at a quilt as long as he could get back to his preferred viewing soon.
“Look. Don’t these shades of chocolate and cream make you want to drool?”
Not really. But her bottom did.
“Feel it.” She thrust it into his hands. When he let the quilt lie there, she grabbed it, rubbed it against his cheek and scrunched his hand around it. “Go ahead.Tellmethatisn’tthesoftestthingyou’veever felt.”
Oh, no, not by a long shot. He hardened as he thought about the parts of Mary that really were the softest things he’d ever felt.
“It’s — nice.”
“Nice? Is that the best you can come up with? This is real down and a few feathers, I tell you.”
He took the quilt from her and strode over to the middle-aged woman with orange hair seated behind a cash box. Shopping was interfering big time with what he really wanted to do with Mary.
“How much do you want?” he asked the woman.
“Ten dollars.”
He reached for his wallet.
“Van, stop that. We have to haggle.”
He handed over a ten-dollar bill. “No, we don’t. We have to go home.”
“No, we don’t. We’re done here, but we have to go to a carpet store.”
Van grumbled.
“Oh, stop it. Be patient. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”
Van found a few ounces of restraint, but only because he was getting an inkling of what this huggling might be all about. It must involve lying on the floor, wrapped up in a quilt. As long as the lying and the wrapping up involved Mary in very close proximity, and very soon, he’d try to wait.
Luckily, Mary found what she wanted quickly.
The rug’s pile was a mile high, which was all he caredabout.Hepridedhimselfonplanningahead.In businesscircles,theydidn’tcallhimthePrinceofthe Long-RangePlanfornothing.Inthiscase,heplanned to have something very soft and cushy between his bonesandthefloorashelearnedhowtohugglewith Mary.
