Page 103 of Charmed, I'm Sure
“I know you’re joking. But just for clarity's sake, if this couch goes home with you, I won’t.”
The mischief in her eyes told a different story, so I leaned in, close enough that my nose brushed her ear. “Yes, you would. And you’d love every single second of me sinking you into these cushions.”
A shiver ran down her spine as she turned to meet my gaze, but the quirk of her lips had my smirk faltering. “I think the couch beat you to it, cowboy.”
A laugh exploded from my chest, Magnolia joining in as we both slipped deeper into the cavernous trap somehow marketed as a couch.
“How we doin’ over here, folks?” A bubbly redheaded sales clerk appeared, her grin far too wide to be endearing.
“We’re fine, thanks. Just looking,” I said, stifling a laugh as Magnolia wiggled against the deep-seated cushions, her escape attempts failing spectacularly.
“Well, if y’all need anything, my name’s Katie, and I’ll be around.”
“Thanks, Katie,” Magnolia grunted, still flailing in the couch’s grasp.
“Hang on, sunshine,” I chuckled as Katie walked away.
“She could’ve at least offered to drag us out of this devil’s nightmare,” she grumbled, blowing a stray strand of hair from her face.
Scooting to the edge, I pushed to standing and held my hands out. “Upsy daisy, sunshine.”
“You’re so weird.” Laughter laced her voice as she grasped my hands and let me tug her to her feet.
“Perhaps,” I said matter-of-factly, pulling her into my arms and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “But then again, so are you.”
“Touché, Dr. Hallows. Touché.” Wrapping her arms around my waist, she kissed me briefly before turning to scan the rest of the showroom. “Want to look at the sectionals?”
Words died on my lips as I took her in. She looked everywhere but at me, oblivious to the way my heart tried to claw its way out of mychest every time she touched me. I wasn’t sure when this feeling would stop—if it ever would. I didn’t think I’d ever tire of her presence, of wanting her in my grasp, even if it was just basking in her gaze from across a crowded room. She’d become a source of light in my life, her smile brightening my days, her wit and sarcasm keeping me perpetually on my toes. And like a kick to the gut, that elusive four-letter word I’d been fighting back with a goddamn two-by-four came skipping to the forefront of my mind.
“Taylor?”
My name on her lips pulled me from my thoughts. All I could do was smile. She was simply breathtaking—clusters of freckles dusted across her cheeks and nose like tiny constellations, full lips tinted the barest hint of pink from the lip balm she’d applied before we walked in. Effortlessly beautiful. And I was the lucky bastard who got to call her mine.
“If you stare any harder, cowboy, you’re going to bore holes into my face.”
“Sorry, sunshine.” I pressed a kiss to her brow. “Can’t help it.”
Despite the snarky roll of her eyes, a flush colored her cheeks. “Come on, Casanova. Let’s find you some furniture.”
We meandered through the store for the better part of an hour, testing every couch that seemed evenremotelyreasonable. Magnolia, ever the planner, had brought a measuring tape despite the clearly labeled dimensions—not that I pointed it out. I loved watching her determination to make my house a home, transforming it from just a space with four walls and a roof into something lived in, something ours. Little did she know, I would have been happy with just a mattress on the floor and candlelight, as long as she was the one I shared it with.
When we’d—or rather,I’d, since she insisted the final decision was mine—finally settled on everything, Magnolia practically skippedtoward Katie with the list of item numbers. I may be a doctor, but even I was grateful for payment plans as we walked back to my car, my wallet significantly lighter. I was now the proud owner of a sectional with way too many pillows, a dining table and chairs, a rug I didn’t actually hate, a coffee table, an accent chair—whatever the hell that meant—and some actual bedside tables to replace the boxes I’d been using. There was still more I needed, but at least the main areas of the house were covered.
“So, what’s next?” I asked as we settled in the car, flipping Magnolia’s seat warmer on since Louisiana had apparently decided to take December seriously this year.
“How do you feel about Christmas decorations?”
I quirked a brow at the giddy smile spreading across her face. “They’re fine, I guess?”
“Fine?Youguess?! Taylor, whatever-your-middle-name-is, Hallows—”
“Michael.”
“What?”
“My middle name is Michael, sunshine.”
“Ah, thank you. TaylorMichaelHallows!” She clapped her hands together. “Christmas is the best holiday. The lights, the sparkle, thewhimsy!” Each word became more wistful as she listed reasons to love it.
