Page 22 of Solomon’s Temple

“You're welcome.”

“I love this car too. I always wanted one of these.”

“You want me to get you one?” I asked, pulling from the curb.

She looked over at me as if I'd slapped her. “Don't play with me, Mr. Solomon. I'll turn your bank account into dust, messing with me.” She giggled.

“I have an account set up with play money. There’s five hundred thousand in it. I will add your name to it once we're solidified.”

Again, she stared at me with that same expression. I was sure she waited for me to say I was kidding, but my face stayed stoic while I hit the navigation to get to our destination.

“Solomon?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“You can say it's a joke now.”

I frowned lightly. “Why would I do that?”

“Because no man would ever give a woman access to that much money. They're too dominant and want to control everything. Even if it is with good intentions.”

I thought for a moment, then replied, “Hmph.”

“Hmph. What does that mean?”

“It means I heard you, but I don't agree. Not all men are the same, sweetheart. I don't typically comment on things that don't apply to me. I want you to know that if I say I'm going to do something, that's exactly what I'm going to do. No clauses or prenups.”

“So you’d marry me and give me access to your money and assets without a prenup?”

“I would.”

“Wow. You really do believe in God.”

I chuckled. “Although I do believe in Him, my decision to make my wife feel equal is solely because I love and trust her. When I marry you, I promise you won't even think about leaving me or taking anything from me.

“Life with me will guarantee you love, happiness, and peace.”

I could see her face return to its original relaxed state before a soft smile painted her lips.

“We’ll see one day.”

“So, you see yourself marrying me?” I asked.

She tittered. “We just met, sir. Slow down. After a couple of more dates, we’ll see if you're husband material.”

“I know I am, but I'll let you do your analysis on me.”

“You check off on the looks for sure, but until I see how big you are and test ride that dick⁠—”

“Temp,” I said, cutting her off with a salacious smirk on my face. “You gotta chill, mamas. I’m still a work in progress, and I need you to sacrifice talking to me like that for the betterment of my faith. We're going to get there real soon, and I'm gon’ make you eat all that sexy sh—stuff you keep saying to me. Trust me. Just have a little patience with me. Cool?”

“How do you expect me to chill when you keep calling me mamas? It's not even the word that turns me on; it's how you say it. Then the way you look at me . . . mm. You must be trying to take me to the courthouse right now.” She laughed but I didn't.

“Don't play with me. I ain't above doing a trial run.”

She giggled and waved me off. I was serious as hell, but I knew she wasn't ready for that yet. We both had some work to do before that happened, but I was sure it was going to happen real soon.

We continued to converse, with her telling me more about herself, her favorite color, and places to eat. She told me about her grandma, aunt, cousins/sisters, and their relationship. I loved that she was close to her family. Although she was pretty much guarded when it came to being in a relationship, seeing her face light up when she talked about her family let me know she was capable of giving love.