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“My friends decided to go to the main party if that’s what you’re asking,” she says.
“Are you disappointed?” I ask.
“How could I be disappointed?” she asks back. “I’m here with you. We have a beautiful fire going in this spacious cabin; there’s champagne and wine if you want. Plus, I snagged some chocolate-covered strawberries from the main cabin, and they brought us other stuff, too.”
I smile at her and kiss her quickly.
“I’m really happy you’re dressed like you tonight,” I say.
“I was hoping you would be,” she says.
“You manage to make a t-shirt look sexy,” I tell her, running my hands over her chest.
“Hey, I have an idea if you’re up for it,” she says.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Well, we have a fire.” She nods over to it. “And this is a fancy place. It turns out, they stock stuff in a minibar, but it’s unlocked. I checked with the boss, and she says it’s all fair game.”
“Okay…” I say, giving her a confused expression.
“They have stuff for s’mores,” she says.
“They do not,” I say, laughing.
“They do. Plus, there’s peanut butter. Want a peanut butter s’more?” she asks.
“Are you doing the cooking?” I ask.
“Like I can trust a fancy lady like you to make my s’more,” she teases.
I laugh and say, “I can honestly say I’ve never made one, so you’re right to trust yourself more.”
“You’ve never made a s’more?” she asks, pulling back to look at me in disbelief.
“Babe, I’ve never had a reason to make a s’more. We never went camping as a family, and I’m not exactly an outdoor girl if you haven’t noticed,” I say.
“I’m going to teach you how, then,” she says, running off into the kitchen.
I laugh and watch her. She gathers up whatever she needs, stops to set it all on the counter, pauses to fill two glasses with red wine, and then hands me one of them.
“You watch. I’ll cook,” she says, kissing me.
“No problem,” I say. “You’re nice to watch.”
She smirks and gets to work. I sit on the sofa and drink my wine as she opens things. She puts the marshmallows on the end of the metal skewers and turns to me.
“Come over here so I can show you,” she says.
“But your ass looks good in those jeans, and I have the perfect view.”
“If you’re over here, you can kiss me,” she says.
I stand and look down at the rug in front of the fireplace.
“I didn’t exactly dress for sitting on the floor,” I say.
“You can take it off,” she says, looking up at me. “I really wouldn’t mind.”
