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Silence stretched on. The TV droned in the background. Nash’s phone buzzed. He fired off a couple of texts, then shoved his phone in his pocket with a sigh.
“Everything okay?” she asked as she plated their dinner.
“Yeah, it’s all good. You want to watch something else?” He carried his food to the couch, then passed her the remote when she followed.
She passed it back. “You’ve let me commandeer your TV most of the day. You pick something.”
“Are you one of those girls who can’t watch gore while you eat?”
Was he serious? “I’m one of those girls who can’t watch gore, like, ever.”
“Then we can’t get married,” he quipped as he dug into his frittata.
She raised a brow at him. “I didn’t know that was an option.”
“Well, you’re cute, and you don’t take me too seriously.”
“How can I?” She grinned back, picking at her food.
Nash shoveled in a big bite, then groaned. “But you can fucking cook. How did you make this taste so damn good?”
“Ever think maybe you’ve been eating too much Taco Bell?”
“Hey, don’t diss my Nachos BellGrande.”
She smiled. “You’re funny. And sweet. Some woman is going to snap you up someday.”
“Hmm, not really interested in being collected and shoved in anyone’s purse.”
“Not even Haisley?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m all about her. I would love to take her to bed over and over. A lot. But…relationships? I’m not super into those.”
“Mind if I ask why?”
“You don’t seem marriage-minded these days…”
“I married the wrong person for the wrong reasons.” And she was suffering the consequences.
“Well, I grew up in the middle of eight kids. Since marriage usually leads to children, I’m not hot to jump on that train.”
Madison blinked. “I had no idea. That sounds like a lot.”
“Total chaos, especially since I have five sisters. Did I mention that everyone, including my parents, all shared one bathroom?”
Madison winced. “Yikes.”
“Yeah. Why don’t I stop talking and flip channels while you eat? If I stumble on some show you want to watch, holler.”
“Okay.” She forked in a bite for appearance’s sake.
He surfed from the movie streaming service she’d been watching, breezing through lists of sporting events, cooking competitions, home decorating, travel shows, and other leisure pursuits. But it all looked dull and canned and ridiculous in the face of her very real problems. She wished her only issue was whether to paint the walls blue or if her pasta was appropriately al dente.
Suddenly, Winston Pershing’s face filled the screen. Her whole body lurched. “Stop.”
Nash did, sitting up beside her as he pumped up the volume.
“…unlikely the bill will clear the senate without the support of its senior members, like Winston Pershing, who won’t be in attendance for the rest of the week, due to his nephew’s untimely death,” said the announcer.
