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“Is that so?” he said through a mouthful of food.
I nodded, pinkie raised as I slurped at a chocolate shake. “I mean, you haven’t seen ironed clothes till you’ve seen me iron clothes.”
Mason swept his hands over his rumpled t-shirt.
“Well,” he said grandly, “as you know, having sharp creases is the first step to a successful career as a tattoo artist.”
I laughed and he smiled. I liked that he liked the sound of my laugh. I liked that he seemed contented by it. Like a lifetime of making me laugh, of hearing the sound of it, would be enough for him. The thought of this brought a little blush to my cheeks and I quickly ducked my face.
“I will, of course, make you breakfast every morning,” I said.
“As a good wife should.”
“The works,” I promised, looking back up at him. “Bacon, scrambled eggs, toast of your choice.”
“White.”
I clicked my tongue. “A whole grain would really be better for your cholesterol, dear.”
I didn’t know fuck all about cholesterol except for what I’d half listened to during commercials on TV.
Mason played along, moaning, “But honey.”
I grinned. “No butts.”
Mason set down his chopsticks, his face grave. “When you say ‘no butts’…”
I threw a fry at Mason. He caught it deftly between his teeth. I rolled my eyes as he chomped down on it. He offered me a fry as a peace offering. I bit his finger.
As he nursed it between his lips, I twisted a forkful of fettuccini alfredo.
“I’ll vacuum naked if you’re good,” I said, eyeing him mischievously.
He nodded around his finger, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, I’ll be good.”
“And if you’re really good, I’ll cook delicious dinners for you in just my apron.”
“Praise Jesus.”
I grinned.
Mason poured more wine into my mug. “You know we’re going to be the happiest married couple in the world. We’re not going to be like all those others who fight and bicker.”
“We’ll just fuck and order takeout instead.”
Mason lifted his mug. “To fucking and ordering takeout.”
I clinked my mug against his.
“To the happiest married couple in the world,” I said. “One day.”
It was all play pretend, of course. All just for fun. Two strangers enjoying a fantasy. We weren’t actually going to get married, right? I snuck a peak at Mason while he wasn’t watching.
Perhaps I wouldn’t mind all that much. Being a good wife to Mason Donovan…
