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Chapter Sixteen – Jess
I walk into the house to the smell of spicy bolognese. A perfect end to a pretty perfect day, if you ask me. I’d been woken at the ass crack of dawn by Chris’s mouth on my nipple. My eyes weren’t even open yet, and he was inside me. Who could ask for a better morning?
I was home a little later than I’d anticipated. Tatum projectile vomited just as I got her to the D.M West Rehabilitation Center, and I’d stayed to help clean up the mess. The poor kid really looked awful, and Skyla felt so bad for asking me to fetch her. Skyla was an occupational therapist at the rehab center specializing in rehabilitating marines injured in service. She was in the middle of a session when her mom had called, so she couldn’t leave, and Jensen was unreachable when he was at the base. I knew this because sometimes the same applied to Chris, which is why I was so surprised that he wasn’t working tonight since Jensen still was. I wasn’t complaining, though. Chris’s hours at the base had been bordering on ridiculous lately, but that’s what I signed up for when we started dating a year and a half ago, and I just needed to suck it up.
I toss my keys in the bowl, but they just slip on right out the other side. Normally I wouldn’t care. I’d leave things lying around just to see if I could get a rise out of Chris. He’s the kind of guy who likes things to be in their place. He never actually verbalized that he likes things neat; I would just witness him trailing after me to straighten up. But since he was feeding me tonight, I’ll play nice.
“I could get used to this.”
Chris rounds the counter and pulls me against him. Pressing his lips to mine, he trails his hands around my ass and hoists me up. I wrap my legs around him while he kisses me. When we come up for air, I wink. “Okay, cancel that. I could get used to this.” Chris winks back and sets me on my feet before walking to the fridge and taking out a bottle of chardonnay.
“What’s for dinner?”
“Lasagna.” He opens the bottle and pours me a glass of wine, handing it to me before turning to stir his white sauce.
My stomach growls in appreciation, and I take a sip of wine while I stare at him over the rim of the glass. This right here is girl porn. I challenge any woman out there to watch her man standing in front of a stove, dishtowel slung over his shoulder, and not be turned on as all hell.
Chris side-eyes me. “I’m feeling objectified over here.”
His grin is wicked, and I snort.
“Like knowing I’m perving over you is a hardship.”
“There’s more to me than my beefy frame, y’know.” He cocks a hip, placing one hand on his waist while the other holds the wooden spoon. I can’t contain my giggle.
He’s not wrong, even if he is kidding. There’s so much more to Chris than “the tank.” There’s love, safety, loyalty, and selflessness. There’s the guy who puts his life on hold to help a friend. There’s the guy who spends sleepless nights to keep a girl safe and drowning in guilt over what happened to her. There’s so much more to Chris, and I’m so damn glad I get to learn how much more every single day. But…
Will I ever get to know all of him, though?
I push the negative thought down and focus on the here and now.
Chris takes the sauce off the stove. His lasagna isn’t the traditional recipe made with ricotta cheese, but one with the rich white sauce that is sure to make you lactose intolerant. He layers the pasta, ground beef, and sauce while he asks about how Tatum is doing.
I tell him she was running a fever and was crying when I picked her up, but she smiled at me and gave me one of her cute baby cuddles and lay her head on my chest. The feeling tugged right in my uterus and had me longing for something I didn’t realize I wanted till that moment.
I don’t say any of that to Chris, though. I need time to think about it first. I’ve always wanted a family. I’ve thought about having children of my own for as long as I can remember. Being an only child, life had been lonely, so I knew I at least wanted two. But maybe I was just feeling this way because I’m broody right now. Chris and I hadn’t even talked about marriage yet. Springing the idea of a family on him is not something I want to do yet. Especially not tonight when I can tell he has something on his mind. Despite everything Chris is doing to distract me from his mood, I know there’s some tension sizzling beneath the surface.
I internally give myself a shake. Chris has gone all out to make a nice meal; there’s no need to dwell on thoughts we can chat about later. And as for the tension, something probably went down at work today, and he wouldn’t share that anyway.
“So, you’re never going to guess what happened in my 8:30 class this morning.”
Chris turns to me and takes a sip of his beer, waiting for me to elaborate.
“We were doing squats with kettlebells, and Rory, that nineteen-year-old show off I was telling you about last week, decided he wasn’t going to use the twelve-kilogram weights like the rest of us, and grabbed the twenty-kilo one. He tore the ligaments in his knee, and when he dropped the kettlebell, he dropped it on his foot and crushed all his toes.”
Chris’s whole body shudders, and he groans. “Argh, you’re getting as bad as Courtney.”
I laugh. “Should I tell you about how they injected him in his knee to…”
“Stop. Stop.” Chris drops the spoon into the pot and covers his ears. “No needle talk, or we’ll have to implement more corporal punishment, sergeant.”
“Chris, how long have we lived together?”
He gets that panicked look in his eyes. The one where guys forget your birthday or anniversary.
I laugh. “This is not a trick; you can relax. What I’m trying to get across to you is that you should know threats of punishment are only going to make me talk about really long, pointy needles.”
“In that case, I’ll just have to try another form of punishment. Like making you come without my fingers in you, or my cock. We both know how greedy your pussy is.”
