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“Didn’t she?” Rosie snickers as I lead her to the breakfast bar where the pizza is waiting for us.
“Careful, sweetheart, they’ll be going to bed soon enough.”
Tipping her head back with a smirk, she licks over lips before whispering, “No funny business, Hotshot.”
There ain’t anything funny about what I want to be doing to her right now. She knows it too from the way her cheeks are flushed and her breaths are shallow at my closeness.
Making quick work of serving the kids their pizza, I settle beside Rosie. The ease and normalcy of the scene catches me by surprise while I listen to the chatter over what movie we should watch and what toppings there are for the ice cream. It gives me pause and makes me wonder about what could be. Although she’s stunning, Rosie is the opposite of every woman I’ve ever been with. Her sweetness is honest without hidden intentions. It’s what makes it impossible to not fall for her.
“Broccoli and zucchini pizza without cheese?” Rosie murmurs with a teasing side-glance. “Hardly pizza, is it?”
“There was cheese.”
“Vegan goop doesn’t count.”
“It was ricotta actually,” I retort, nudging her shoulder with mine.
“Oh so bougie, Hotshot.” A smile pulls at the subtle grin already lighting her face when I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her into my side. With her head resting on my shoulder, I inhale deeply until my lungs fill with the scent of her honey shampoo.
“So, what movie are we watching?” I ask the kids when they get up to clear the table and put their plates into the sink.
I have to give it to Maggie, she has them well trained. But I wouldn’t expect any less from her.
“The Good Dinosaur!” Brooks is the first to call out.
“Hell no!” Blaire scrunches her face at him.
“You’re not allowed to say hell,” Blakely reminds her.
“Guess what, smarty-pants?” Blaire sticks her tongue out at her sister. “You just said it too.”
“Because I—”
“Okay…okay, children…kids, monsters,” I interrupt their argument before it escalates. I’ve seen how heated these two can get. “If no one has another suggestion, The Good Dinosaur it is.”
“Oh boy…” Rosie mutters quietly, sitting straight and pulling my baseball cap off my head. “You really are a novice at this.”
“You got a better idea?”
“You asking?” she asks, getting to her feet and putting the hat down on the counter while I reiterate my question. “Does madam have a better idea?”
“I do.” Grabbing the pen and pad that’s on the end of the breakfast bar, she writes down the movie Brooks picked. After she rips and folds the piece of paper, she throws it into the cap. “Right, we all write a movie down, and then we’ll pick one out of the hat. Fair?”
“Who picks it out?” Blaire asks, crossing her arms over her chest like she’s found a loophole in Rosie’s logic.
“You do it,” Blakely groans, taking Brooks to the freezer so they can get the ice cream out while I rinse the plates and load them into the dishwasher.
“Okay, Blakely, what film do you pick?”
“Hunchback of Notre Dame.”
Rosie writes it down and puts the paper in the cap. “Blaire?”
“Mulan…no. Raya?” The little butthead deliberates, changing her mind a few more times before she settles on a completely different film. “Turning Red.”
“Brody?”
“Yeah?”
