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I laugh and I pull two limes from the fridge. This won't be the finest meal in the world, but it will be good. Maybe that's enough. "You have rice?"
He motions to the top cupboard.
It's way out of reach. I'm tall for a girl, but Joel has at least four inches on me. "You're joking, right?"
"About?"
I rise to my tiptoes, press my palm into the counter, and jump for it. Still not close. "Joel!"
"I'm enjoying the view."
"Please check the cupboard for rice, Joel."
"Oh. Of course." He smirks as he reaches over my head to open the cupboard.
Ah. Victory! There is a bag of rice. He hands it to me with that same smug smile. I shouldn't like it as much as I do.
But I really, really like it.
He seems genuinely happy.
And without me smoothing everything over.
I want more of that.
"Why don't you make yourself useful and help me." I bite my lip. Did I really say that? I'm not sassy.
Joel must like it. He's smiling.
He drops his voice to something playfully seductive. "How should I make myself useful?"
My head fills with delicious ideas about where I want his hands, his mouth, his cock.
Ahem.
One thing at a time.
First dinner. Then I'll decide if I can handle fucking my husband.
I clear my throat. "Get out a small pot, one with a lid, and a large pan. A wok, if you have that."
He reaches down to one of the bottom drawers to get them.
"A measuring cup."
He finds one in the silverware drawer.
"Oil."
He brushes his hand over my lower back. "I hope you're this bossy later."
My cheeks flush. I hope so too.
I measure out the rice then get to work on the stir fry. Wok. Oil. Shrimp.
The pan sizzles. "That seems wrong."
"It does."
