Baby,” his voice gentled, “this is me seein’ to that soft spot when I say quiet-like that I... will... be... there... in ten. And what I mean is, when I get there in ten, your ass better be there.”
Oh boy.
“Are you coming on your bike?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m in a tight, short, little aquamarine dress with high heels. I can’t get on a bike.
“You’re in a tight, short dress and high heels?” Tack asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ll be in there in five.
