Page 106 of Going Deep
“I asked you first.”
He laughed. “Yes, I forgive you.”
“Okay, me too.”
“We’ll do better, okay?” He eased back to look at her. “Both of us.”
She nodded, blue eyes shining. “Yeah, we will.”
He lowered his forehead to rest on hers. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too. Don’t kiss me!”
He froze, his mouth a breath from hers. “Uh, why?”
“Because my brother-in-law is coming over to help take apart my bed in like—” she leaned around him to look at the clock. “Ten minutes. And my little sisters are upstairs sleeping ”
“Well, shit.” Resigning himself to blue balls, he straightened. “I don’t suppose I could take a cold shower, then.”
“Little sisters sleeping,” she reminded him. “One bathroom.”
He sighed. “Forget that, then. How complicated is this bed?”
“Pretty complicated. It’s also big and heavy. Jake—that’s my brother-in-law—is going to drive it to Chicago for me next weekend.”
“That’s nice of him.”
Ginger rolled her eyes. “Not that nice. I’m paying him in Cubs tickets and crash space for him and a buddy.”
“What kind of bed is this?”
“Four poster tester,” she supplied. “Why?”
“I’ll take care of the Cubs’ tickets,” he decided. “You handle the crash space.”
“What? No,” she protested.
“I have box seats,” he told her. “It’s not a big deal.”
“I don’t want to take advantage,” she began, unease flickering in her eyes.
“You’re not,” he assured her. “I’m going to get a lot of use out of this bed.”
Her lips twitched. “Oh, are you?”
“We both are,” he assured her, and ignoring the impending arrival of one brother-in-law, kissed her.
EPILOGUE
Michael let the apartment door slam behind him. “Ginger? You here?”
“In the office,” came the reply.
He grinned and started down the hall, shedding his jacket along the way. Summer had held on through September and halfway through October, but they were two weeks into November now, and shorter days and cooler weather had finally come to Chicago. The cozy warmth of the apartment—kept at a slightly higher temperature than he normally liked in deference to the often naked woman in his life—was welcoming. And while he might have preferred a slightly cooler temperature, the knowledge that warmth equaled a naked Ginger more than made up for it.
He stopped off in the bedroom to drop off the jacket, and his suitcase. He’d made his last trip to New York for the month, and was glad of it. He didn’t like leaving town much these days.
Leaving the bedroom, he headed for the office. Once a spare bedroom and storage area, he’d insisted on turning it into a space Ginger could use for work. The work she did at the Center was mostly hands-on, but she sometimes brought work home, and he’d wanted her to have a comfortable space in which to do it. She’d protested the transformation of the space as unnecessary. She had her own apartment, after all, and an office there—she didn’t need two. He’d ignored her objections, outfitting the space with a comfortable sofa, bookshelves, and a desk in gleaming mahogany.
