Page 118 of Goose

“Uh huh.”

She laughed. “You’re such a dork.”

“I’m not a dork,” I insisted.

“You are. In a good way. A cute dork.” She took a step toward me. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

She was exactly what I wanted, and so much more than I deserved. I’d somehow reached a point that nothing else mattered to me but her. The money. The house. It all became immaterial without her. If she could find it within herself to grant my wish, my life would be complete.

“For as long as I can remember, my life has been missing something,” I explained. “I didn’t realize what that something was until I met you. When you leave, I feel like a part of me leaves with you. When you come back, everything is how it’s supposed to be. I don’t want to give you a reason to leave.”

“Don’t say another word.” She closed the gap between us. “End it with that. It was perfect.”

“Is that a yes?” I asked.

“When I’m away from you, my eyes hurt. I don’t like it when my eyes hurt.” She kissed me. “So, yes. It’s a yes.”

I kissed her. Not a simple kiss, like the one she’d given me a moment before. It was a toe-curling kiss. The kind that caused my mind—and my breath—to escape me. When our lips parted, I was dizzy, breathless, and extremely satisfied with what my life had become.

She traced the tip of her index finger over her lips. “I really like kissing you.”

“I like kissing you, too.”

“I have a question,” she said.

“What?”

“It’s a three-car garage, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I park my car in there?” she asked.

“The Bug?”

“No.” She laughed. “Not the Bug. I’ve got another.”

“Oh really? What is it?”

“A twenty-year-old Porsche,” she said, pronouncing the word Por-shuh. “I had it shipped here in an enclosed trailer. I’m as anal with it as you are with your house.”

“Is that the one you set the track record in?”

One corner of her mouth curled up. “It is.”

“Sure,” I said. “You can put it right beside your SUV.”

“My SUV?”

“Ghost said whoever became the getaway driver was supposed to make that car their own. He said, becoming one with your getaway car is crucial, or something like that.”

“Okay,” she said with a smile. “I’ll park it beside my ‘red’ getaway car.”

I smirked. “Speaking of red, I’m seeing red right now.”

“Why?”

“I can’t remember the last time we fucked,” I said with a laugh.

“All you’ve got to do is ask.”

I didn’t want her to think all I wanted was sex, because it wasn’t. I shrugged. “I don’t want to over-ask.”

“We can’t have too much sex,” she explained. “No matter how often you ask. And, for what it’s worth, you don’t have to ask. You can just say, ‘Ally, take off your clothes and assume the position’.”

I lifted her chin with my index finger. “Ally?”

She grinned. “What?”

“Take off your clothes and assume the position.”