“Yeah. I have a side hustle with rude signs. Kind of what I was first known for.”
He looked over his shoulder at me. “Really?”
I laughed. “Yeah.” I picked up my phone off the charger and opened my social media and handed it to him when he came back over, the dulcet tones of Enya floating out of my speakers.
“Nice choice.”
“Haven’t heard her in years.” He scrolled through the images. “Wow, these are your clients?”
“Yeah. I just finished at Haven Café. I’m going to do that hanging paper thing over at the bookstore too.”
“It looks amazing.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t look for validation often, but it was really nice to hear. I stabbed the dough to make sure no air bubbles would make the pizza rise too fast then slid it into the oven.
He leaned on my kitchen island and chuckled a few times, then turned the phone around. “I like these floral ones you do.”
Punch today in the dickwas highlighted with a pair of pretty fonts and a circle of daisies.
“I made one for a joke to get some engagement on my profile and it went viral. Was one of the first viral things that pushed my business forward. Then I was lucky enough to get people to notice my murals and between the two of them, I can live pretty comfortably.”
He clicked off the phone and set it face down on the counter. “Impressive.”
“It’s taken a long time to take off, but I know I’m lucky.” I put the salad in bowls for us, then whisked up the vinaigrette I’d started.
“Luck is a factor. Definitely was for me as an author too, but without the talent it wouldn’t sustain itself. Own that.”
I looked up with a smile. “Yes, sir.”
His eyes heated. “How long do we have for the pizza?”
“Not long enough for what’s going on in your head.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking?”
“Because I’m thinking it too.” I added the dressing, then picked up a bowl for each of us. “Sustenance first.”
Mouse perked up, sniffing around hoping for more bacon.
Dutch gave him the side-eye, and he went back to the couch and laid down with a sigh.
“How did you do that?”
“You’re a soft touch.” He took one of the bowls from me and brushed a kiss over my lips.
“Maybe.”
We sat at the small table I had at the edge of my kitchen. My place was one big open concept house full of mismatched furniture and color. I let him have the sturdy chair under my shelf of plants.
When he sat down, my pothos plant draped over his shoulder.
I pressed my lips together against a smile. “Sorry. You’re a bit tall for my space.”
“It’s very colorful.”
“You’re just used to neutral colors.” I plucked a tomato out of my bowl and popped it in my mouth.
“Is there a color you don’t like?”
