Chapter 16
16
“ I like this one and it goes with the art you have up.”
Simon looked at the couch that Carlisle pointed to. She had great taste, and she understood the assignment. She was focused on what he wanted, and he couldn’t help maybe reading into that.
Her place had more blues and greens, more color. Interestingly enough, she liked the more modern looks than he did, brighter accents, square lines. She’d gotten her cousin to pick colors that would go with the paintings, though he didn’t think he’d mentioned they were his sister’s.
Looking over at her he added, “I like it, too. It looks like the kind of couch you can relax into and maybe fall asleep on.”
He watched as she sank into the cushions, clearly enjoying herself as he tried to discreetly look at the price. Oh, hell no . He liked it but his bank account and even his credit card didn't.
Luckily, Carlisle was reaching over to find the tag herself. When she flipped it over to look, she sighed. “Well, I appear to have picked the most expensive couch in the place. So probably a different one.”
She was clearly feeling him out to see what he was going to say. But he wasn't a fool. He wasn't buying something out of his budget to impress a woman that he hadn't gone on a first date with yet. Honestly, he didn't want to date a woman who would be impressed by him buying an expensive couch. “Maybe there's a better price on another one like it.”
Twenty minutes and as many couch tests later, that was the one couch he really wanted. So, of course, he felt stuck.
“Why are you making that face?” She was standing next to him mimicking his pose as he stared at the too-expensive piece. Like him, she had her arms crossed and one leg out, but she was also leaning into him. The feel of her arm pressing against his was nicer than he thought it would be. He wanted to stay like that, but Simon did not want to buy the most expensive couch in the place.
“Yeah. My budget couldn’t handle this,” she admitted.
He appreciated the gesture of solidarity. “Right.”
“At least we have good taste?” She shrugged, her arm moving against his. And damn, he must be falling hard if he was thinking about that.
Still, he was torn. “I don't want to buy a couch that I don't like. I don't want to walk into my living room every day and think I should have bought the couch I really wanted.”
Carlisle nodded along. “A couch is a good quality investment, but . . . Look, it's the only one on the floor. Maybe it'll go on sale in a while. Worst case scenario, if they sell it they can order you another one. You don’t have to decide right now.”
Good advice when he’d had his heart set on finding something today. He’d made it this far without a couch, and she already knew about his empty house.
She turned to face him. “There's another store down the street and I usually like their furniture better.”
This he could agree to. Maybe he could find a price he liked better, too. They headed out and hopped back into his car. He’d noticed that Carlisle hadn't once commented on the fancy little sports car .
He’d told her the truth and maybe she’d been thinking it was an effort to flash some kind of superiority or ego need. It wasn’t. He did like a good luxury car, who didn't? This one really resonated more with the clients. But it solidified his thinking more that he wasn't going to do the same with the damn couch. The couch was inside his living room, for him to sit on. He was going to get what he wanted even if it might be an irresponsible decision.
It was already going on the credit card, because he never knew when his mom would call with another round of medical bills or need extra for the house payment if she didn’t make it that month. Expenses happened and he wanted a damn couch.
They walked into the next store where they were quickly greeted and treated like a husband and wife. Simon felt another slow melt when Carlisle didn’t correct the salesperson. But he had to pay attention as they were shown around and given the basic information for what was where and how to know the different kinds of couches. He’d thought there was only “couch.” He’d been wrong.
When the woman finally left them alone to browse, he leaned in close to Carlisle, thinking how sexy she smelled. Then he asked the unsexiest question he could. “Are these prices higher than the other place?”
“Yes. But did you notice the sign on the way in? It's all at least twenty-five percent off.”
A little bit of quick math revealed that Carlisle was, of course, correct. Maybe he could find the better couch here.
They did a test sit on every piece he liked, weighing what came with it. If it was a set with an ottoman, matching chairs, even end tables. He did not like any of the end tables.
Leaning back, they put their feet up on the ottomans. He liked it but, “It’s comfy but not my favorite for looks. ”
“Well, sure, but don't even sit on the ones that don't look good to you. And definitely test the ones you like the looks of. You can’t take home a couch that looks great but then you don't want to sit on it.”
He settled into the next one. He’d been eyeing it from farther down the line. “I can see us watching football on this couch.”
“Football? You mean the CTE games?” Despite the dig, she settled in close enough to press her full body against his side.
“That's the brain injury, right?”
She nodded, her chiding expression letting him know what she thought of football.
“I'm not really a fan,” he added. “More of a basketball follower.”
She nodded, but that clearly wasn't her thing either.
He tried again. “I could do a movie.”
She reached down to feel the fabric next to her. And Simon frowned a little. “You don't like the way it feels?”
“Oh, I do like the way it feels. I'm just testing how it's going to hold up to buttered popcorn.”
He couldn't help the laugh that burbled out of him.
She grinned too, and he felt so amazing and so stupid. Sitting in a furniture store. Thinking about sitting next to this woman on this couch. About how she was planning on maybe even dropping buttered popcorn on it and checking for the stain guard.
“Look,” she said with a grin, waving the tag from where she’d leaned over the end to grab it. “It's even got a warranty against animal damage.”
“The only animal on this couch is going to be me,” he added, then realized maybe that sounded like an innuendo, maybe a bit too far. But she only laughed, leaned in close, and put her head on his shoulder as though she were watching the movie with him instead of seeing the rows of other couches in front of them .
He tried not to think about a future with her—whether that was them dating or something more. He wasn’t ready for something more though. Was he? He’d been held back by taking care of his family. Not even getting the real dorm life experience in college, living at home until just a few months ago. Hell, he was buying his first damn couch. He wouldn’t be ready for her, too.
The whole thing was stupid. Despite what he’d admitted already, there was still so much he hadn't told her. So many things that would likely make her run screaming in terror. She had enough on her own plate without adding his stupid baggage to hers.
He hadn’t planned on her or any of this. He'd moved here for a job, thinking to keep his head down, do the job, collect the checks, send the money home. Yet there she'd been.
He was a sucker for her. Not for women in distress, but for some reason just drawn to her despite the screaming in the middle of the night and the obvious lingering anxiety or depression from a petrifying accident. Maybe it was just that he could relate, and so many of the women he’d dated along the way couldn’t relate to him and his life at all. He leaned over, his breath catching as her eyes looked up and locked with his.
Carlisle didn't move. She didn't lean in. But, as her tongue darted out across her lips, she didn't pull away either.