Mickey looked to him and lifted his brows. “Now who’s cursing?”

Conrad looked ready to explode but he had no choice but to scowl, turn and stomp away.

Mickey backed up and with our proximity he took me with him. He shut the door and locked it.

He then turned and again looked down at me.

“Babe. Seriously. You’re a fun date.”

I burst out laughing.

While I kept doing it, Mickey’s arms stole around me.

I put my hands to his chest, slid them up and curled them around the sides of his neck.

However, when I sobered, I saw Mickey didn’t find anything funny.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yep,” I answered.

He studied me closely.

I snuggled into him and assured, “I’m fine, Mickey.”

“He’s not a dick, Amy. He’s a motherfucking dick.”

“Yep,” I repeated.

He looked to the door and back to me. “You gonna get any blowback from that?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. If I do, I’ll deal. He’s already done his worst, I survived and now I’m standing in my fabulous house in a magnificent man’s arms. He no longer has any weapons that could harm me.”

His arms convulsed on “magnificent man,” but when I was done talking, he warned, “Watch your shit with that guy. He’s a man with a little dick but he still likes to swing it.”

I hadn’t really thought about it but having a man as endowed as Mickey, it occurred to me this was quite accurate.

“I’ll watch my shit,” I promised.

“Good,” he muttered then asked, “We done with that?”

“Yeah, Mickey.”

He was back to muttering. “Excellent.” He let me go, grabbed my hand and tugged me across the landing, announcing, “You owe me a hard fuck on that weird couch by your fireplace, baby.”

I absolutely did.

“It’s a daybed,” I informed him.

“Whatever. It’s sturdy.”

I thought it was fabulously stylish but Mickey wasn’t wrong.

It was sturdy.

I knew this already but Mickey and I put it to the test.

It passed.

Chapter Twenty

Comparing Dicks

The next day, feeling proud of myself, I walked out of Bertram’s Electronics Store phoning Mickey.

“Hey, baby,” he answered.

“Hey, guess what?” I replied.

“Don’t know but I hope whatever it is is good.”

I grinned as I beeped the locks on my Rover. “It isn’t good. It’s fantastic.”

“Right, then lay it on me,” he said with a smile in his voice.

“Tomorrow, someone in the firehouse needs to be available to accept delivery on a new microwave.”

Mickey didn’t say anything so I was open to give him the grand finale.

“And a sixty inch flat screen TV!” I cried, pulling open the door to my SUV.

“Don’t know what to say,” he muttered, not sounding nearly as happy as I expected him to be.