Most of the pieces went easily. The dresser came out without much work, as well as his bedroom desk. What caused most of the problems was the older couch that they were taking, as it barely fit through the front door with the way the entrance was angled.

"Stop for a second," Stephen said, putting the couch down after their third attempt. "How the h.e.l.l did they get this in here?"

"Maybe they had their own genie to help with that," Grace suggested with a smile.

"We might need to wish this one out onto the truck," he suggested, looking back at Grace.

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"You know the rules," replied Grace, giving him a level, suggestive look.

"I wish for this couch to fit easily through the door so that we can get to the apartment quicker to make love," wished Stephen. Grace clapped her hands excitedly, yet nothing happened with the couch himself.

"Did that work?" Stephen asked, puzzled.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief, "See for yourself."

Stephen went to grasp the couch with both hands, steadying himself to pick up the weight. However, as soon as he had it in his hands, the couch popped up effortlessly. His eyes went wide. A couch that had weighed next to a hundred pounds a moment ago was almost as light as air now. He shuffled forward, trying to get it around the corner, and to his amazement, the couch bent around the corner, as if it were nothing more than putty. In no time at all, he had it around the corner, out the door, and sliding onto the back of the truck.

"That was much easier," he laughed.

"I was hoping you'd see things my way. Can't wait to collect later," grinned Grace, as she skipped down from the truck and headed towards the door. "I'm going to grab a few extra boxes from your room."

Stephen watched her go, loving the way her jean shorts framed her perfectly shaped a.s.s. There was no more perfect woman on earth than Grace, and he said a silent prayer that she would be happy in their new place.