Page 52 of Negotiating Tactics

I’d bought it for ten dollars and spent a hundred more to have it cleaned and fumigated, and I’d been damned proud of my resourcefulness.

Noah had threatened to burn it.

I’d countered he’d better not.

I’d taken his silence on the matter as a victory, but he’d proven his point when he’d bent me over the couch and fucked me like he hated me as much as he hated the couch.

I couldn’t help but blush every time I looked at it, something I knew he didn’t miss.

After we’d finished watching TV, I’d grumbled about getting to bed. Gentleman that he was, he lay me down gently and then lay beside me, holding me tight, the feeling so perfect that I felt tears prickbehind my eyes.

Ordinarily, he would be gone at this hour, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was happy for him to be here.

And instantly suspicious when he asked again, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

He didn’t often ask what I was doing, and besides, the answer was always pretty clear.

Either working, thinking about working, or getting prepared to go to work.

A better, more sophisticated woman would probably have made something up, but it hadn’t occurred to me to do so, and I didn’t have the energy to try.

“Why?” I asked.

He was lying behind me, his hands interlaced with mine, occasionally brushing light kisses here and there.

Granted, I’d never had much of an opportunity, but I’d never thought I would be such a big fan of this kind of physical affection.

I loved it from Noah.

Couldn’t get enough of it.

“It’s your birthday. So I want to know what you’re doing,” he said.

I twisted to look at him. “How do you know tomorrow is my birthday?”

“Birdie mentioned it,” he said.

“When would my birthday have come up with Birdie?” I asked.

“At lunch last weekend,” he said.

A lunch I had been invited to but had missed because I was doing some notary work. “She was disappointed that her and Dominic’s trip was going to conflict with your birthday,” Noah said.

“Yeah,” I responded.

Since my mother’s death, I spent most birthdays alone or with Birdie.

But this year, being alone didn’t sting quite as much as it might have otherwise.

I’d gotten over not spending any time with my father and tried to focus on the bright side. I hadn’t had much free time recently, so my plans for tomorrow were to binge watch TV, nosh on whatever was left of my lasagna, and maybe have a celebratory cake pop if I decided to splurge.

The plan had seemed perfect, but now…

“Why are you asking again?” I said, blinking at Noah.

He kissed my ear, then laid his head atop mine before giving me a squeeze.

“Don’t be so suspicious,” he said.

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