House Hunting

“Ah, ah,” she said with a shake of her head and a wag of her finger. “I’m not changing again. You get one pass on my wardrobe, no more.”

Rafe wordlessly glared at her, making his feelings about the subject much known. Talia had to hold herself back from sticking her tongue out at him to annoy him further. She walked towards the front door, her boho bag slung over her shoulder and snickered at a pouting peeved Rafe.

His hand shot up and grabbed her by the upper arm, Talia gasped as he brought her to a complete stop.

“Not so fast,” he said, reaching for the coat closet door with his free hand. He opened the door, released her and grabbed her long black overcoat with a jerk that the hanger rattled in the enclosed space in protest. He pushed the door closed with his fingers, then held the coat open in front of her with a raised brow. The man just refused to lose.

But then again, in her petty need to whine, she’d