“A Pom Daisy? Like a pom-pom?” I questioned, secretly happy that his favorite flower was my favorite of all the flowers in his garden as well.

“Well, you can’t do a cheer with it, but yes,” he laughed.

“I bet you dated all the cheerleaders in high school, didn’t you?” A flash of jealousy hit me as I asked the question and I surveyed his face intently. I wanted to ask him what sort of girls he usually dated, but I knew that would be opening Pandora’s Box and I didn’t really want to go there.

“Not all.” He stared back at me. “Just some.”

“Oh, sounds like me, I only dated some of the football players,” I retorted instinctively. I groaned inside at my words. How immature was I?

“I’m sure they all wanted to date you,” he said lightly, his eyes piercing into mine. “Now, this flower here,” he continued and picked up another flower from my hand. “This flower is an Amaryllis. It’s a native plant of South America. Do you see how the petals are red on the outside and white on the inside? Well, I always call these petals blood-soaked.”

“Blood-soaked?” My voice rose. “Well, that’s morbid.”

“I know.” He grinned and handed the two flowers back to me. “I wish I had some roses to give you, then I could recite Shakespeare or make up my own ditty: Lucky, let me count the ways that …”

“You want to eat me,” I interrupted laughing.

“Well, among other things.”

“Zane!” I grabbed his hand and pulled him inside with me. “Let’s go out. And no more sexual innuendos for the rest of the day.”

“That I can’t promise.”

***

I licked the last drops of syrup from the corners of my mouth and grinned at Zane. “I can’t believe I’ve never noticed the way you eat before.” I watched as he put his cutlery down on the plate. “You’re so prim and proper, Miss Emily would be so proud.”

“Who’s Miss Emily?” He looked at me in confusion.

“The etiquette queen, duh.”

“Oh you mean Emily Post?”

“Yes!”

“I’ve never heard her called Miss Emily before. It must be a southern thing.”

“I’m not southern,” I growled.

“You’re from the South.”

“I’m from Florida.”

“Florida’s in the south.” He grinned. “Or do you need a geography lesson?”

“I know it’s in the south, but it’s not the South like South Carolina and Arkansas. Now they are the South.”

“What about Alabama and Mississippi?”

“Well, they are as well.” I rolled my eyes at him as if to say, duh.

“So all the states in the south are the South aside from Florida?”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“So are you telling me I’m not dating a Southern Belle?”

“I’m telling you that if you’re looking for Scarlett O’Hara, you’re dating the wrong girl.”

“Did your grandparents live on a plantation? Did they have slaves? Did your mother have a mammy?” Zane cocked his head at me and I reached over and slapped his hand.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Tell me, Lucky, what do you think of the Civil War? Do you wish the South had won?”

“Zane Beaumont,” I growled. “I do declare that you’re trying to upset my righteous mind, but I will not let you do that to me this fine morning.” I spoke in my best Southern accent and we both laughed.

“It’s fascinating though.” Zane looked up at me seriously. “Our country has such a rich and deep history. Our grandparents lived such different lives, had such different views. I sometimes wonder what life would be like if certain things didn’t change.”

“I sometimes wonder what it would have been like to have lived in the 1940s.” I paused and looked up to make sure I wasn’t boring him. “And in the Middle Ages.”

“The Middle Ages?”

“Yes, I’ve always wanted to witness what society was like during that time. There was an expansion of population of about 35 million to 80 million people in Europe between 1000 and 1347. Can you believe that? That’s incredible! And then there were the religious crusades and the system of feudalism was introduced. It’s all so fascinating.”

“Wow, you really do love history.”

“I do. My heart is with modern history, as you know, and the Civil Rights Movement, but I’m a bit of a European history buff as well. I’ve often thought about doing my dissertation on the parallels between the Middle Ages and the Civil Rights Movement.”

“There are parallels?” Zane looked surprised and I laughed.

“Well, I’d have to research. That’s the point.” I laughed and then looked down as I remembered that I may never get to do that research. I’m not sure how I would be able to do it if I were pregnant and had a baby. How would I be able to go to grad school then?

“What’s wrong?” Zane frowned as he saw my expression change.

“Nothing.” I smiled brightly, not wanting to share my thoughts with him. “Are you done? We still have to go shopping.” I changed the subject quickly.

“Did you know that when I was in school, we learned about William the Conqueror and Harold of Hastings, and Noah and I would always play a game called The Battle of Hastings comes to Los Angeles?” Zane smiled at the memory. “And we used Star Wars light sabers that my dad got us. And we would run around, zapping each other.” He laughed. “I just remembered that, that was a fun game.”

“I’m impressed that you remember what happened in 1066.” I smiled at him gently and leaned forward. “You’re more of a history buff than I thought.”

“I should note that William had R2D2 on his side and Harold had C-3PO and we weren’t fighting for England, but for the moon,” Zane laughed.

“Well, as long as it was for the moon.” I reached over and grabbed his hand. “I wish I would have gotten to meet Noah.” I spoke gently, not wanting to upset him.

“So do I.” He laid some money on the table and stood up. “Now, let’s go shopping.”

***

“I can’t believe you wanted to come to Ikea.” Zane looked lost in the sea of people. “I can’t say that I’ve ever been here before, but I’ve never heard it was the place to get bedding.”

“I don’t know that it’s the place to get bedding, but it is the place to get affordable bedding.” I made a face at him.

“I don’t want to push the fact that I have money in your face. But I don’t need to go to the Costco of bed sheets.”

“This isn’t the Costco of bed sheets, you snob.” I shook my head. “In fact, I don’t even know what that means. How can this be the Costco of bed sheets? Do you think we’re going to get a big pack of 10 sheets and duvets?” I laughed. “To go with our 100 pack of toilet paper.”

“You can get a 100 pack of toilet paper rolls?” Zane looked like a light bulb had gone off in his head. “You mean I could buy a lifetime’s supply of toilet paper on one trip?”

“Zane! Focus, we’re here to buy sheets and a duvet cover.”

“I’d still like to know why we’re in an Ikea, and not some swanky store in Beverly Hills.”

“I can’t afford to buy sheets in Beverly Hills.” I sighed. “I wanted this to be my treat to you because you’re changing them for me.”

“Lucky, no.” Zane looked at me in shock. “You can’t afford that.”

“I want to,” I said obstinately. It was true that I didn’t really have the money to buy him sheets, but I also needed to feel that I wasn’t just getting a free ride. “Besides, I’ll be getting a paycheck soon, right?”

“I don’t really want you spending your hard-earned money on me.” He frowned. “But if you insist. And if you will actually accept and cash my paycheck.”

“I …” my voice trailed off. He was right. I did feel funny about cashing the checks. It just didn’t seem right to take money from my boyfriend, no matter if I was working for him or not. It was okay when we were just friends, but to be sleeping with him and taking money made it all seem a bit sleazy.

“Lucky, you have to take the money.” Zane folded his arms across the chest. “You still have to send Leeza your rent money every month.”

“I know, I know.” I crinkled my nose and grabbed his arm. “Let’s go look at sheets, we can talk about this later.” We finally moved away from the couches and I saw a little girl staring at us curiously. She was bouncing up and down on a beanbag chair while her parents measured the dimensions of one of white couches to the right of them. I was surprised that they were considering a white couch with a kid; frankly I wouldn’t get a white couch if it were just me, not with how messy I was. I smiled at the little girl as we walked and she stuck her tongue out at me and turned her face away. I giggled to myself at her precociousness and I saw Zane giving me a side-long glance. I was sure he was likely wondering if I was crazy or not, but I just smiled and continued walking. Let him think what he wants. The crazy part might be right; I wouldn’t doubt it if someone said that I was.

“No pink sheets, Lucky.” Zane squeezed my hand. “Please no pink sheets.”

“I’m not a little princess, you know.”

“You’re my princess.” He purred and I punched his arm. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me towards him, and I squealed as I pushed him backwards. He held onto me as he fell back and we both landed on the queen-sized display bed that was behind him. “Lucky, I know you want me, but we’re in public.” He grinned at me as we lay on our backs.

“You wish.” I shook my head and tried to sit up. He pulled me back down towards him and kissed me hard and I melted against him, enjoying the warm sweetness of his lips on mine.

He smiled as he pulled away from me and licked my lips. “You taste like honey.”

“It’s maple syrup.”

“Well, it’s good.” He leaned towards me again and ran his tongue over my bottom lip slowly. I stared into his eyes, and we laid there for a moment, just gazing at each other.

“Excuse me, excuse me! You guys can’t be on the bed doing that.” I looked up, embarrassed, and saw an elderly lady staring at us with a shocked expression. “You two need to get up off the bed. This is a reputable business, not a brothel.” She glared at us and I jumped up off of the bed quickly. Zane stood up slowly and smiled at the lady.

“Sorry, ma’am, my whore and I got a little carried away.”

“Zane!” I gasped and noticed the lady’s face turn red. She turned away from us mumbling something about how rude this generation was.

I turned on him and hissed, “Zane, how could you say that?” My face was still flushing a deep red and I wanted to sink into the ground.

“You know you’re not my whore, but what did that busybody expect after saying we thought this was a brothel?” He grinned and grabbed my hand. “Now let’s get these sheets and get out of here. I don’t think I’m made for Ikea.”

“You don’t even know Ikea.” I shook my head. “I didn’t know you were an elitist about where your sheets came from.”

“I’m not. I just want to be somewhere a little less crowded with you.” He ran his hand down to my ass and I swatted it away.

“Zane,” I protested quickly. “Let’s not get kicked out.”

“I don’t mind if we do.” He looked sheepish.

“You’re bored, aren’t you?” I laughed. “Let me choose something and we can leave.” I spotted a green duvet cover with circles on it and rushed over. “Oh, look at this. I love it. Don’t you love it?” I grabbed the package and stared at it before eagerly showing it to Zane.

“Not really,” he grimaced.

“What do you like?” I put the package down and walked over to a plain sky-blue cover. “Something like this?”

“No.” He shook his head and walked over to a black striped set.

“No way.” My voice rose, and this time it was me shaking my head. “There is no way I’m sleeping in a death bed.”

“A death bed?” He looked amused.

“The color black in a home is not for me,” I said. “It’s too gloomy. I prefer bright colors. Don’t get me wrong, though, I’ll wear black clothes.” I laughed loudly. “I do like the slimming look.”

“You don’t need any help looking slim.” He purred and I hit him in the arm.

“You’re such a suck-up, Zane.”

“And you love it.” He paused. “I mean, I’m sure you loved it when I gave you super big tips.”

“You did that on purpose?” I turned around and gasped. “I mean, of course you did it on purpose, but did you do it to suck up to me?” I laughed at his ‘you-got-me’ expression. “I guess I should say thanks. You saved me from getting evicted many times.”

“You were that broke?” He frowned.

“Yes,” I sighed, remembering all the stress from the last year. “My parents didn’t have an insurance policy when they died. I had to use my student loans and credit cards to pay for the funeral expenses.”