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“Cookware? Why were you looking at pots and pans?”
“My mother wants the copper-bottomed set and an iron frying pan.”
“Did you buy them for her?”
“The frying pan. I think Anders is buying her the set. He didn’t answer his phone so I took a pass. It would be embarrassing if I gave her the same gift as him.”
“Not embarrassing. She would have twice as much to cook with.”
Oliver stood up and stepped out of the tub. Bubbles lingered on his body and he entered the shower stall to wash them off. I followed, hitting the plunger so the water drained from the tub. We took a quick shower and dressed in our robes.
“What about a tree?” I asked as we headed for the kitchen.
“You want one? I never had one. They’re a bit messy.”
“We need a tree,” I insisted.
“We’ll get one when we come back from St. Croix.”
“I might just want to stay there if the weather is nice.”
“It will be nice. It’s almost always nice.”
Oliver retrieved my wine glass from the bathroom and refreshed it then poured himself a glass of the same fruity white wine. We sat on the couch, and he gently massaged the blister on my heel.
"Does it hurt?" Oliver asked, concern etched across his features.
I winced slightly. "A little. It'll go away. I just can’t wear those boots for a while."
He nodded, relief washing over his face. "You won’t need to for at least a few days."
I sighed, shifting to a more comfortable position. "We should pack. What time is Vlad picking us up?"
"6:00 a.m. sharp, so don’t be dragging around in the morning," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.
I snorted, rolling my eyes. "I don’t always do that. I’ve been tired lately, probably from the interrupted sleep courtesy of my fiancé."
Oliver gasped dramatically. "Don’t blame me. You wake me up just as much as I do you."
"Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better," I retorted, giving him a playful shove. "Are we taking the larger Fox jet?"
His eyes twinkled mischievously. "You mean the one with the bedroom?"
I nodded eagerly. "Yes, that one."
"We are. Maintenance is finished, and it passed with flying colors," he said, his arm wrapping around me as I snuggled deeper into his side.
"I like that jet," I murmured, closing my eyes for a moment.
"I bet you do. So many naughty memories in it," he chuckled, his fingers tracing patterns on my shoulder.
"I like being naughty six miles up. You’ve given me so many new experiences," I admitted, a smile playing on my lips.
"We should pack before it gets too late," he suggested, glancing at the clock.
"Are we sharing a suitcase?" I asked, looking up at him.
"That depends," he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips.
