“Other side, Creed. You got to break in. I get to drive.”
“Baby, scoot,” he clipped.
“I’m not moving.”
“It’s one o’clock in the morning and I just nabbed a hard drive with stolen formulas that are patent pending and worth seven hundred million dollars and now I’m standing by a truck arguing with my woman. Seriously?” he asked.
“Other side, Creed,” I answered then he moved, swiftly, and I found my seatbelt was unfastened and my cowboy booted feet on the ground.
I glared up at him.
He angled into the truck and looked down at me.
“Other side, Sylvie.”
“You’re a pain in my ass,” I hissed.
“Right back at ‘cha, baby.”
I narrowed my eyes.
Then I stomped to the other side and dragged myself in.
“Let’s roll,” I snapped.
Creed rolled.
I scowled as the landscape passed by.
Then I announced, “I’m putting out my own shingle. You’re too bossy.”
“You’re welcome to do that, Sylvie, when you’re not pregnant or nursing.”
“I’m not nursing!” I bit out.
“We’ll see,” he muttered.
I rolled my eyes.
Creed turned on the radio then switched it to news.
I immediately leaned forward and switched it to country.
“Pain in my ass,” he murmured.
“Bite me,” I replied.
Silence.
Then Creed burst out laughing.
I was in a bad mood but, still, I liked that sound so much, I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.
But I did it with my head turned to the side window so Creed couldn’t see.
* * * * *
Five months later…