Fair point.“I haven’t either, in case it crossed your mind.”
“Didn’t think you had.”
I pulled out the instruction card again, since I’d already forgotten what I read thanks to him, and began tossing the packet together for the marinade. Then added the chicken into the bowl. “When is your bet over?”
He paused and stared over at the calendar. “About three weeks from now. You?”
I cringed. “Like, 6 days.”
He blew out a breath. “Nothing like leaving it to the last minute.”
I tossed my hands up. “It wasn’t like I wasn’t trying.”
He winced. “What were you going to do if you didn’t find someone?”
“Fake the plague.”
He let out a bark of a laugh. “I see. Let’s not go crazy on making up stories, especially ones that have medical problems from the eighteen-hundreds.”
“Yeah. Not my best idea.” We continued cooking side by side. I had managed the chicken while Josh had moved tomaking the couscous. “We have our timeline. A month give or take. What else?”
“I’d assume we need to know the basic details. How many dates we have had, how we take our coffees in the morning. Shit couples would know about each other,” he said, stirring the pot.
“Seems reasonable. You already know I like lattes, oh, and I never eat breakfast.”
He guffawed. “No breakfast? Isn’t that, like, the most important meal of the day?”
“Yeah, but I prefer to sleep in. I’ll take a coffee to-go in the morning and eat eventually.”
“Got it, so don’t wake you up in the morning.” He chuckled.
“Wake at risk,” I teased.
“You?”
“Coffee is a must. One sugar and one cream. I always eat breakfast. Eggs, sunny-side, English muffin, and yogurt.”
“Specific. Good to know.” Swallowing the lump in my throat. There were other details we would need to discuss and I wasn’t sure what his reaction would be. “Let’s cover the basics. Family, hobbies, dislikes.”
“Mom, and a brother who is on the Crashers. We don’t get along. He’s a dick.” My eyebrow shot up. Josh rolled his eyes.
“We seem to have sibling rivalry in common.” I chuckled.
“Should I call you baby or honey?”
My nose scrunched. “I guess, it’s standard.”
He shrugged.
“Okay, Babes. Let’s do this couple-y thing and make us a meal.” I burst into laughter and so did he. It was the good kind, theletting the steam out of the roomkind. It was nice to see a silly side of him.
I cleared my throat. “What about the dirty details?”
He damn near knocked the pan off the stove. “Huh?”
“Coffee and food are good, but that’s the easy shit. If wewant people to buy this,” I waved his finger between us, “we’re going to need a little intimacy. We need to touch, little grazes or glances.”
He wiggled his brows. “No problem on my end.”
