I smiled at him.
“And then you were asking me questions, and I couldn’t get my voice to work.”
“You’re very sweet,” I praised him, stepping in close and slipping my hand around the side of his neck to draw him down for a kiss.
His lips melted over mine, and in moments, I had both arms wrapped around his neck and his had me clutched tight against him.
When I broke the kiss, I noted the scowl and smiled. “We have to go.”
“Or…” he began with that lethal smile of his that made his golden eyes sparkle, “we could go wreck the bed a second time.”
“I just made that bed, and—”
“I don’t care. I’ve got lots of fitted sheets and flat sheets and pillowcases and everything else you made me buy. Even a duvet, which I still don’t know what that is or where it goes.”
I slipped out of his arms and headed for the door. “The sooner we go, the sooner we can get home. We’ll get pizza on the way back, and I’ll attack you and make you scream so—”
“I don’t need the pizza,” he let me know. “But I would very much like to be attacked, please.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Then let’s go.”
“Or…” he said, purposely beginning his argument the same way, like he did when he was in court, when he was driving a point home, “we could have the attacking now and forget about the—”
“Now,” I ordered, putting on my cashmere scarf and reaching for my trench coat.
He was there fast, bumping me gently, taking my coat off the hook by the door, holding it for me so I could slide in one arm and then the other. “You need a hat. It’s snowing outside.”
“I don’t have a hat that matches, and I refuse to wear the ugly one with the big red pom-pom. We’ll get one this week.”
“No one will see it,” he muttered as he did what he always did and pulled the black hat in question off the hook and down over my head. “You’ll take it off in the coatroom. But you’re not getting pneumonia on my watch simply because you think my hat is ugly.”
“Why do I even bother doing my hair?”
He ignored me. “And you’re getting gloves too. You don’t need to be afraid of them anymore.”
I arched a brow that I hoped conveyed how ridiculous he sounded. “I am not afraid of gloves.”
“You’re being obtuse on purpose. You know what I mean,” he apprised me. “You’ll never be in a situation where not having full use of your hands will be a bad thing.”
“You can’t say that for––”
His eyes met mine. “Yes, I can. I will always be with you. I have been since we met, but it’s more now.”
Yes, it was. “Okay,” I said, lifting for a kiss.
He glared at me.
“Kiss. Now.”
“You’re making me go out when all I wanna do is lie on the couch and watch TV.”
“I thought we were going to fool around again.”
“I want that too, so much,” he croaked out. “But I want to snuggle up and watch movies with you.”
“Under a blanket, with the fire going.”
He whimpered, and it was adorable.