Page 87 of Buckled in Barbwire

“Offer the man unlimited sex and watch him haul ass,” she mutters under her breath.

“Damn straight.” I’ve barely cut the engine beforeI’m out and rounding the tailgate. My motivations nearly wrench her door off the hinges.

“What the—?” She’s unbuckled and flung over my shoulder before finishing the statement.

“Hang on, wifey.” I lightly spank her upturned ass.

“I… can… walk,” she sputters.

“This is faster.” My jog jostles her in my grip but I’d never let her fall. “Every moment is precious.”

“Aww-wwahh.” Paisley’s croon resembles a hiccup. “How semi-sweet of you, and not a bad view.”

I almost trip when she pinches my rear. “Careful, woman. I’m carrying priceless cargo.”

Her giggle gets extra bouncy when I climb the porch stairs. My free hand begins tapping at the lock pad. It only takes once and I pump my fist. Just as I’m stepping inside, Dad pushes past me as if waiting for the opportunity to escape.

I turn to watch him flee, swinging Paisley around with the motion. “Where are you going?”

“Bingo at the community center,” he calls in return.

“Bingo?”

“Don’t say it unless you mean it. They’ll fine you for that.” Dad wags his finger in jest.

My stunned expression slackens further. “What…? Who…?”

“Your in-laws invited me. Mighty fine folks.” He rocks on the soles of his boots. “I’m retired now, and taking time to smell the clover.”

“But… how?” I’ve lost the ability to form a complete sentence.

“Looks like you’ve got your hands full, son. I’ll leave youto it.” Dad tips his hat and begins whistling on his walk to the truck, giving me a wave over his shoulder. “Don’t wait up.”

My wide eyes watch him leave but there’s nothing else to say.

“Um, excuse me?” My wife bucks against me, ready to get on with the fun. “Can you put me down?”

“Not a chance. I’ll give you a tour later.”

She mutters under her breath about my grumpy ass. “You act like I’ve never been here before.”

“Whatever happened before me doesn’t matter. I’ve got big plans to prove that.”

And then I’m back in motion. My boots pound on the steps as I race to the second floor. Paisley grips onto my shirt when I take a corner too tight. Hallways stretch on for what feels like miles. This house is determined to make me work for it.

Relief punches at me when we finally arrive at our suite. The French doors have never been a more welcome sight. I turn the knob, rush forward, and stop dead in my tracks.

“The fuck?”

Paisley struggles against me in an effort to see what’s earned my expletive. With a hand braced on the wall, she manages to turn herself enough to get a peek. A gasp tumbles from her parted lips. Laughter soon follows.

“Oh, I’m all moved in. That’s convenient.”

My shock spans the area in an arc but I still can’t believe it. “Everything is…”

“Pink? Yes,” she chirps. “That’s somewhat of a signature for me.”

“I can see that.”

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