Diving Deep (UK Crush #2)

Chapter 8

Later, as we were falling asleep, I asked him if he could take me to a yarn store the next day.

"Of course. What are you planning to make?" He asked, running his fingernails up and down my back.

"Something for baby Juliet," I answered. "I mean, nothing I make can compete with what you're giving, but I can't show up empty handed, and the third is just a few days away."

He kissed me. "You're so sweet," he said sleepily. "But honestly, it's not necessary. We can put your name on the card and it can be from both of us. They won't be expecting anything separate from you."

I sat up and looked at him. "Please, who is going to believe I contributed a penny of that money? It's ridiculous. I have to give something that's from me, I'd never show up with nothing for a baby, it's just not me. Surely you know that?"

He rubbed my back and shoulders. "Yes, I do know that, darling half-Japanese cupcake of mine," he said with another sleepy smile. "Anyway, the yarn shop tomorrow is not a problem. Now, can we please go to sleep, before I get another hard on and we have to have sex again?"

"Oh, is that a promise or a threat?" I asked, running my fingers through his hair.

"Oh my god, it's neither, just a fact," he said, smothering a yawn. "But, honestly, I'm so exhausted, I can't speak for the quality of my performance. Truly, sleep is your best option."

"Okay, let's sleep," I agreed comfortably, hooking my leg over him.

"Closer, darling," he whispered, "please..." So I pulled myself closer, eliminating all open space between us.

"Perfect," he said, barely audible at this point. "Love you so much..." and he was sleeping, warm, gentle exhalations purring into my ear.

I chose a beautiful blend called cashmerino, in a gorgeous mix of pink and yellow, and selected enough to make a capelet with a hood and matching overalls with attached feet.

When the time came to pay, I pulled out my card and handed it over, but I noticed as I did so that it looked nothing like my card. The cashier was already ringing it through, so I said nothing, but I scrutinized it when she handed it back. It had my name on it, but it was from an English bank, and looked completely unfamiliar. I opened my wallet and looked. It was in the spot where my bank card usually went, but it was definitely not my bank card. Everything else in my wallet was exactly as it should be, driver's license, library cards, social security card, all but my bank/credit card. I felt like I'd stepped into the Twilight Zone. And I knew who was to blame last time that had happened.

I left the shop and waited for Teddy, who was driving around the block until I came out. He pulled up, and I could tell from the look on his face that this was his doing. I buckled up and waited until he pulled away, and I could see him steeling himself for what he knew was coming.

"Theodore Shelley, what in the hell happened to my credit card? Hmm?" I turned to him.

"Here we go. Okay. Don't get in a strop, please," he begged, keeping an eye on the road, cutting his eyes over to me as often as he could.

"I am not getting in a strop, damn you," I said, knowing full well that I probably was. "I just want to know where my B of A card went, and how it got replaced with this card that I've never seen before that magically has my name on it?"

"Look, could we possibly just wait until we get home to have this conversation please?" He looked over at me pleadingly. "It's just that traffic's really really bad right now, and this is definitely not a good time for me to split my concentration."

"Fine," I said. I held my bag and purse on my lap and looked straight ahead, fighting to keep my composure as he maneuvered through the late morning traffic out of central London. Truth be told, I was fighting to hang on to my anger, too, because usually in these situations Teddy's motivations turned out to be made of pure gold, my anger ended up evaporating into thin air, and I eventually wound up crying into his chest and apologizing for being such a bitch.