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“You sound like a therapist.” She laughs.
I shrug. “You are lying on my couch.”
She giggles, and the sound wraps around me and fills this house like a warm embrace. “I’m excited about it. I love the job, and Jordyn is so easy to work with. I was bouncing some new ideas off her for items we can offer, and services such as personal shopping. It’s what we do now, sort of, but this would be dedicated time, maybe even after hours, to sit down with the customer and go over their wants and needs.”
“That’s a great idea. We don’t have anything like that here in Willow River.”
“I know. Jordyn and I both think it will go over really well.”
“I’m proud of you, babe.”
She blushes at my compliment. I love that, too, but I don’t tell her so.
“Thanks, Mer.”
“Are you getting hungry?” We ate a late breakfast, but that was hours ago.
“A little. What are you in the mood for? I’ll make us something.”
“Honestly, anything,” I say and she smiles. “Come on. Let’s go see what we can find.” I stand from the couch, offering her my hand and helping her up. I wrap my arms around her in a hug, because I can, and because I can’t not. She’s quickly becoming my addiction. One I never saw coming, but I guess that’s how most addictions start. They sneak up on you out of nowhere, and bam! You can’t live without it.
Pulling out of my embrace, she skips off to the kitchen. It’s double the size of hers, and she loves to cook in it, and who am I to deny this beauty anything? She opens the pantry and pokes around. I love how comfortable she is here.
She pops her head out. “Do we have mozzarella cheese? Shredded or block?”
“Not sure.” I move to the refrigerator to check, all while biting back my smile at her words.
“Do we?”
She’s opened up so much since we first started this situation-ship or whatever it is we’re in. I don’t know what in the hell you call a fake relationship where you can’t keep your hands off each other and crave the feeling of being skin-to-skin with the other person, yet you’re not really dating. It's supposed to be for her experience, but yeah, it’s fucked is what it is and confusing as hell.
“We’ve got cheese,” I tell her, raising the bag of shredded mozzarella. “What are you thinking?”
“Homemade pizza.” She holds up a couple of packages of dough and a jar of sauce.
“Yes. I think there’s a pound of hamburger thawed out that needs to be used too. We can brown that and use it.”
“Perfect.”
We get to work making a late lunch. Courtney handles the dough and sauce, while I brown the hamburger. Once we have the pizza in the oven, we quickly clean up.
As soon as the last dish is dry, I lift her by her hips and set her on the counter, stepping between her legs. “That was a lot of work. I think I’ve earned a kiss.”
“You think so, huh? I did just as much work as you did.”
“Then we should kiss each other.” I breathe against her lips before kissing her. I force myself to keep this one slow. It’s been an incredible day, just lounging around with her, and I want it to stay that way. I don’t want this to turn hot and heavy. Okay, maybe that’s not true, but it’s not going to be. Slow and sweet, that’s the theme for this afternoon, and I’m sticking to it.
We kiss as if we have all the time in the world, and right now, we do. When the timer goes off, telling us the pizza is ready, we pull apart. I’m glad we set it; otherwise, I’m certain our creation would be burnt to a crisp, and we’d be back at the drawing board looking for something to eat.
I make us both a plate, and we carry them to the living room, settling back into our nest we’ve been living in on the couch to eat.
“This is really good. I would never have thought to put hamburger meat on it.”
“Stick with me, kid.” I wink at her, and she grins.
“Show me your ways, ole wise one.”
“I’ll show you something,” I say, winking at her, and her laughter shakes her entire body.
