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“Hey. Dinner smells great.” He walks to where I’m standing at the small island and slides a hand around my waist, pressing his lips to my cheek. “Did I forget we were having dinner?”
“Nope. I got all my laundry caught up, and I’m packed for this weekend. I went shopping and decided to make you dinner.”
“You didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it. I’m going to go wash my hands.” He rushes out of the kitchen while I pull down a couple of plates. He’s back in no time, and I hand him one. “You first,” he tells me.
“You’re the one who worked all day.”
“You cooked. You eat first.”
I stick my tongue out at him, and his eyes heat. I quickly busy myself making my plate. The sexual tension continues to grow between us, and most days I feel like I might combust. He walks behind me and places his hand on the small of my back while reaching around me to grab a soft taco shell. He stays where he is, his hand still on my back, and takes a massive bite out of the plain shell.
“How did you know I was starving?”
“You’re always hungry,” I tease.
He leans in close, placing his lips right next to my ear. “Yep.”
His hot breath fans over my cheek, and instantly, heat pools between my thighs. I shift my stance to ease the ache his hot breath and whispered words cause. He didn’t even say anything sexy, and I’m all worked up. I can’t imagine how my body would respond if he really tried to lay on the charm. Something tells me I’d be in a puddle at his feet.
Once we both have plates made, we sit at the small dining table and dig in.
“How was shopping?”
“Good. I bought some hangers for the closet for all my stuff, a few organizers for under the sinks, and picked us both up some body wash.”
“Shit. I knew I was supposed to stop and get something on the way home. Thank you for that. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. It was on sale. I wasn’t even sure you needed it until I was putting mine in the shower and noticed yours was turned upside down.”
“Yeah, I might have had to add a little water to the bottle this morning,” he admits.
“Well, you’re good to go.”
“Thanks, Mo.” There’s a softness in his eyes that I’ve only ever seen when he looks at me. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention all these years, but it’s a heady feeling to know this man, the life of the party, softens for me.
“What about you? How was your day?”
“Not bad. I love what I do, so there are very few bad days.”
“It helps that you also work with four of your best friends. Oh, and that you’re the boss.”
He chuckles. “That doesn’t hurt.” He takes another bite and swallows before asking. “So, you’re all packed up?”
“I am. I brought a few things on over today. I figured since I was coming over, I might as well.”
“I’ll help you bring it in.”
“I already did. Just a couple of bags of clothes that are on the floor of the closet.”
“I’ll help you hang them up.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’ll do it once we’re done here. It won’t take me long. I just assumed getting a head start might be nice. Not that I have a lot to bring. Mostly clothes, toiletries, a few knickknacks, and pictures.”
He reaches across the table and places his hand over mine. “This is your home, Monroe. You don’t have to ask permission. You don’t need to worry about messing with my stuff. What’s mine is yours.”
“This is temporary.”
“You’re going to be my wife.”
