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“By that, I mean that it’s delicious. Where did you learn how to make them?”
“Belgium.”
I almost forgot he traveled the world, picking up tricks and tidbits everywhere he went for his bag of talents.
“Do you always learn how to cook the local food everywhere you go?”
He slipped an arm around my shoulder. “All I can say is, you should try my pizza.”
Ugh.This man was great for my sex life and horrible for my waistline.
“This”—I pointed with my fork—“is the best waffle I’ve ever tasted. Better than the one at that diner. What’s your secret ingredient?” I demanded. “It’s not yeasted batter. I know because I’ve tried.”
He made a zipping motion with his mouth.
“You’re seriously not going to tell me?” I thundered. So far we’d managed not to broach the subject of us having sex. Maybe he’d forgotten about it altogether? He did seem to smoke pot quite excessively.
“My waffles are my leverage. I’m not going to give it away without serious concession on your behalf.” He stood up, trekked to the kitchenette, and seized a beer from the fridge. He felt at home. Helookedat home too. And that was an even bigger problem.
He shut the fridge with his foot. “What’s up with you? What are you doing today?”
I groaned, finishing off the rest of his waffles. “Looking for jobs, what else?”
“Didn’t you say no one would consider you before you get your visa?”
I nodded solemnly, running the pad of my index finger over the chocolate residue on the plate, sucking it clean.The visa.We hadn’t even discussed the blasted thing since we got married, because I’d beenavoiding him. Since when was I so bloody scatterbrained? “I think they’re worried it’s going to take time. The timeline for being granted a visa can be unpredictable. Not to mention, the last place said they’re interviewing to fill out the positions in the next few weeks. They can’t wait four or five months.”
He took a pull of his beer, and I pretended not to notice he was drinking at eight thirty in the morning. “So why don’t you wait it out?”
I smiled calmly. “That’s a very good question, Riggs. The answer is—because money doesn’t grow on trees.”
At this point, I was seriously considering doing the odd admin job and getting paid under the table just to resume the money flow. I was worried about paying my rent and all the bills without a steady income. There was only so much strain I could put on my savings.
“Take the day off,” he suggested unhelpfully.
“I can’t do that,” I said.
“Tag along with me.”
“I’m sorry, did you lose your hearing in the time between now and five minutes ago?” I frowned. “I can’t afford to take a day off, Riggs. I’m literally on the verge of shoeshining to keep my head above water.”
He looked bored with the conversation. How couldn’t he understand? Clearly, he was no stranger to hardship.
“Tell you what.” He spun the beer bottle’s cap on his index finger, like it was a basketball. “We’ll make a stop at that lawyer lady’s office and fill out our visa application.”
“All I can hear is more money for me to spend.”
“Would you stop talking about money?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Would you stop pretending it is not an issue for both of us?” I countered.
“I’ll pay you to spend the day with me!” he snapped. “Happy?”
I jerked back and laughed so hard my stomach hurt. “Thanks for the laugh. I needed that.” I stood up, carrying the plate to the sink.“And for the waffles too. They were marvelous. Shall I grab ramen for dinner? My treat.”
His gaze followed me. “I’m serious. I’ll pay you to spend the day with me. I need an assistant for myDiscoveryproject.”
“Since when do you need an assistant?” I narrowed my eyes.
