“Should we connect our apartments?” she asks as I flip the last pancake into a casserole dish.
“Connect?” I ask.
Her gaze lifts. “It’s a pain to go all the way down and all the way up to get between them, and you’re just right above me, aren’t you? Since you own the building, it’d be simple to put stairs in, right?” Her cheeks blister. “Or maybe your place ismore than big enough for the both of us, and I should suck it up and consider doing the normal thing and move in with my…husband.”
Precious, tender, sweet little dove. “I think it’s important for us both to have our own space. I’ll have my assistant look into contractors for the renovations to connect our apartments once it’s no longer the weekend.” I place the casserole dish of pancakes down in front of her, wash my hands again, then get her a plate. “That is, of course, assuming my assistant will be able to handle planning renovations on top of her other big project. Do you think she can manage both? You know I’dneverwant to be cruel.”
“Are you talking about your brother’s Flag Day wedding?” she asks. “It’s mostly done. There’s just the technicalities of setting up the ballroom closer to June 14th now. Iverson hasn’t asked me to book any plans for their honeymoon yet, though. Is that something I should follow up with him on?”
“He probably already has it covered. I did get an email from him outlining some things he said he wanted a few weeks ago, but they seemed stupid, so I assumed it was a prank and trashed it.”
“Iverson…pranks…people?”
“Sure. All the time. We are related, you know. He needs to possess some mischief somewhere in his body.”
Azalea stares at me as though she can’t seem to picture my outwardly coarse little brother sending me information on how I simply must have Azalea research ball pit options for his wedding ball. The man, like me, is nuts. Just a different type. He’s more…brazil nut. Tough facade. Savory center.
In contrast, I’m a rancid cashew. As a close relative of the poison ivy family, I’m toxic on the outside and still rotten at my core. I’ll give you a rash and indigestion without an ounce of remorse.
Setting the matter of my brother’s sense of humor aside, Azalea begins dissecting her first pancake, inspecting each square inch, analyzing every grain.
“May I disrobe now?” I ask, lifting my hands like a surgeon.
Beet-red, Azalea’s head launches up, wide eyes pinning on me—then on the collection of hair nets she told me to wear. “Oh,” she breathes. “Yes. Sorry. Do it…away from the food, though.”
I sanction myself on the complete opposite side of the kitchen to pull the nets off my face and head, then I call across the bleached space, “What did you think I meant bydisrobe?”
“Obviously, the definition of the word.”
And here I thought I made my position on risque conduct ever so clear last night.
Careful not to startle her, I slip into my seat, heating through when she lifts a dainty bite of pancake to her mouth. Her poor sweet lips tremble, but she squeezes her eyes shut, stuffs the morsel in, andstruggles.
I say, “Do you desire me, dove?”
Every thought of what’s in her mouth vanishes into thin air, and she swallows before she can realize she has. “What?”
I serve myself a stack of pancakes, dress them in syrup and vegan butter, then cut in. “I’m just curious. What with you thinking of racy literal definitions and all, instead of my innocent—yet more obscure—intentions.” Eyeing her, I lift a forkful to my mouth. “It’s just…well…if you desire me, that changes the curriculum a small bit, doesn’t it?” I nod at her food as I bite into mine.
Distracted, she cuts a notably larger piece, and it reaches more-stable lips. “I don’t…” Her eyes lower. “…know what that’s like. I’m scared to find out how it might hit me.”
“Nothing to be scared of. We’re married.”
“Right. But.” Her free hand lands on her stomach. “I don’t think I’d survive any…surprises.”
Ah.
I ask, “Do you want kids?”
Immediately, her head shakes.
“I don’t mean the process, I mean the children. Do you want to raise children?”
“No, absolutely not. They’re…so…” She shudders.
“Sticky?”
Vehement, she nods.
