“Mrs. Hunters, please.”
I slip into the driver’s seat. “I’m guessing you’re not allowed to touch me.” It’s not a question, because I know just how jealous and possessive my husband can be.
“No, ma’am, I can’t.”
“Then how are you really going to stop me?” I reach under the seat and grab the keys, and he jumps into the passenger seat. I let him stay there because I know he’s only trying to do his job.
It doesn’t take long for me to find my husband leaning up against a fence with a few other hands around him. When he sees me, his nose flares, and I stop only a few feet from him.
“You got something you want to tell me?” I get out of the Gator and stomp over to him. “You think I’m a captive here?” I poke him in his broad chest.
“Julie,” he warns.
“Don’t you Julie me! You can’t keep me lo
