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Is thatmyshirt?
Fuck me. She’s already raided my closet.
“Smells good.”
She makes this cute sound, a light shriek as she spins around, hand clutching her chest as if I’ve almost given her a heart attack. Once she realizes I’m no threat, she mutters a curse before fumbling with her phone to turn down the music.
“Please tell me you weren’t watching for long.”
I wish I could’ve.
“Just got home, don’t worry.” I head in her direction and feel her stare the entire way.
“Are you alright?” she asks, reaching out but stopping right before actually touching me.
“Nothing a few painkillers can’t fix.” Looking into the pot, I’m confused by what I’m looking at.
“Okay, so listen,” she tries to defend as she spots my stare. “You’ve got a stockpile of canned goods and mysterious stuff in jars. I didn’t have much to work with.”
“Well, it smells good. You’ve got that going for it.” Trying to offer support, my eyes drift back in her direction.
My stomach might rumble from the smell, but I think I’m feeling hungry for something else entirely at the moment.
“Well, it should taste like chicken noodle soup. It just has different noodles and a few extra vegetables in it.” Biting back a nervous smile, she stirs under my gaze. “Once we go grocery shopping, I’ll knock your socks off.”
She’s already making plans, making this feel more and more domesticated. I’ll let her burn a hole in my wallet if it makes her beam with a smile.
“Having food ready when I get home is nice. You’re already a step ahead,” I admit with a low chuckle.
Hugging her chest, she looks so pleased with herself. Twisting around, she rushes to grab some bowls.
“Once you get a few bites of this, I swear you won’t ever want me to leave.”
Oh, I don’t think I’ll need the soup to make me feel that way.
Rue
Did I snoop around his home while he was at work? Yes, yes I did. Though, I only did it to try and learn more about the guy. I’m not normally the nosey type.
If Bryson is going to be the guy I’m going to be with for the rest of my life, then I should know a little more about the guy. While I’m an open book who is happy to talk about myself, my future husband has hardly given me much to lean on.
I wanted to find photo albums, any hints at hobbies, or whatever else I could get my hands on, really.
Plucking at the shirt on my body, Cheeto abandons my side once he realizes he doesn’t have the majority of my attention.
The fire feels nice on my bare legs. Wearing shorts underneath his large shirt has to be my best decision yet. Just the sight of goosebumps was all it took for Bryson to throw together a fire.
Good to know he’s been looking at my legs, whether it be with worry or anything else.
I want to give this a chance. With the red-headed giant opening up to me more, I think I stand a chance at sticking around for longer than the week trial period.
“I found your book collection. You’re into reading?” I ask as he chucks in a log.
“Helps pass time on my days off,” he admits, “Fairland has a nice library.”
“You don’t own a single romance novel. Might not realize it, but it’s the best genre ever.” Hanging over the arm of the couch, I live for the chuckle that passes his lips.
“Not my type of book.” Standing tall, he looks at me with a lifted brow. “Not into mystery?”
