C HAPTER O NE
S IMPLE
~Shooter~
“Are you sure I shouldn’t at least go back to work at Brinkley’s?” Tessie asks in all sincerity.
Sincere or not, I look over to her from our kitchen table as if she has two heads. It is the same fight we have month after month.
After she agreed to move in with me, she took time off to help her mom adjust and be at home more for Axel. Brinkley’s has told her she can come back to work anytime, but that is a decision I leave solely up to her.
“Baby, come here.”
She walks over slowly. When she is close enough, I reach out and pull her to my lap.
“Why do we keep having this conversation?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers. “Maybe because I’m stubborn.” She bites at her bottom lip, making my dick twitch in my jeans. God, she is even sexy in sweats and an old tank top. The littlest things turn me on with this woman. Hell, if I am honest, everything about her turns me on.
“You wanna work, then work. You wanna stay home with your mom and Axel, stay home. Baby, you’re on the bank account; you see the statements. We aren’t rich, but we damn sure don’t struggle.”
“That’s your money, Shooter,” she states calmly, just like she does every time we discuss money.
My anger rises yet again over this same topic.
“Tessie, is that my ring on your finger?”
“Yes,” she answers, looking down at her left hand.
“Is it my last name you will soon have?”
“Yes, Shooter.” She blows out a frustrated breath.
“Am I a man?”
“Andy,” she chastises my smartass remark.
“Baby, am I a man?” She nods at me. “Am I your man?”
“Yes, Shooter, you know all this.”
“Then tell me, why is it such a problem for me as a man to take care of you as my woman? To take care of my family? Are we not building something to be a family?” I watch her, trying to gauge where her head is.
“Yes, Shooter. It’s just hard. I’m so used to doing it all. It’s hard to accept help.”
Jumping up from my chair, I stand her on her feet.
“Help!” I roar at her. She flinches, not used to me getting so worked up. “Fuck, Tessie! This isn’t help. This is us being together. Dammit, I take care of what’s mine. Last I checked, you are fuckin’ mine. Unless something’s changed that you need to tell me about …”
Without a word, she rolls up on her tiptoes and kisses me. My frustration only adds to the passion as I suck hard on her bottom lip before pulling away, releasing her mouth with a pop.
“Baby, if you need to work, then work. But, please, stop the shit over money. I get it, baby, I really do. Don’t call what I do help, ever. It’s not help; it’s being a man.”
“Okay, Shooter.”
“Okay, Shooter? That was a little too easy.” I raise an eyebrow at her.
“I am yours, and you’re the type of man to take care of what’s yours. So I need to decide if I want to work for me and not about the money.”
“You gonna marry me sometime soon, then?” If she is going to concede so easily over the money, then now is the time to push my luck on the other topic we have not quite been seeing eye-to-eye on.
The wedding. The wedding that I want to happen, like yesterday. Although the road to get us here was far from easy, I have never wanted something so much in my life—to have her carry my last name, to have her carry my babies, and most importantly, to have her share my life for always.
“Shooter,” she whines, knowing this is yet another topic we will go in circles over.
“What? I want you to have my name, have my babies, and sooner rather than later. Just sayin’.” I try to look innocent, but I seriously doubt she finds any of this innocent on my end.
“So, take me to the court house. I told you this already.”
Exasperating woman.
“We are not getting married at the damn court house. First, I tend to avoid court houses. I don’t know any Hellion that will willingly go to one. Nor do I want one of the happiest days