Arson meowed in distress but allowed Honey to hold her until I finished the bed.
“There. Let her go.” Honey tossed Arson on the bed and she curled up in the middle and shut her eyes.
“Where are we supposed to sleep?” I asked Arson. She just sighed.
“I have no idea what she’s got to sigh about.”
Honey laughed and leaned over to kiss my shoulder. She’d been sweet and tender in the shower and we’d had fun spotting the marks we’d left on each other.
“I don’t want to go to the marketplace tomorrow,” she said, leaning against me.
“Me neither. Monday can’t come soon enough.” I’d never been bothered much by working weekends, but now I had Honey in my life and there weren’t enough hours in my schedule for her.
“How are we going to make this work?” I asked.
Honey stepped in front of me, forcing me to give her all my attention.
“Make us work, you mean?”
I nodded.
She tucked some of my damp hair behind my ear. “Well. We figure it out. You can come and stay with me sometimes. My apartment is separate from the rest of the house and if we get home late enough and leave early enough, you won’t even have to see my family.”
I thought about that. “It wouldn’t be terrible. Seeing your family. I mean, I see them a lot already.”
She smiled and bounced on her toes. “Really? Because I want to show you the farm. Have you meet the bees.”
“Oh, you were serious about that?” I asked.
“Of course. The bees already know about you because I told them, but they should officially meet you.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. She was very comfortable with them, but I didn’t want to get stung.
“Can I wear the outfit?” It would look silly, but it would protect me.
“Hell yeah you can wear the outfit. You’d look so cute. I’ve actually had fantasies of you in the outfit.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“Oh yeah?” I slid my hands down her back and grabbed her ass, making her squeak, and hold onto me. “I’ve got to hear about these fantasies.”
“Get in bed with me and I’ll tell you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Honey
Bren’s bedwas bigger than mine, but I still ended up plastered against her and woke up with her hair in my mouth in the morning and one of my legs slung across her belly.
She cursed as she shut off her alarm and then I heard a soft meow from the vicinity of my feet.
Arson had curled up at the end of the bed, but was up and stretching, walking across our limbs to come and poke at Bren.
“Good morning, little baby,” I said to Arson as she stared at me as if to ask “you’re still here?”
“I’m not that little. I’m taller than you,” Bren mumbled, turning to bury her face in my hair.
“I was talking to Arson.”
She laughed softly and then leaned back so she could look at me.