Page 223 of The Reason I Married Him
Gripping.
Making me weak in the knees as I lean forward and use her for support.
I catch my breath and kiss her shoulder as I say, “Jesus, Aubree.”
She swallows and lets out a deep breath. “Talk to yourself.”
I chuckle and kiss her back again. “It’s you, babe, you started this.”
“And you finished it.”
I pull out of her and then lift her into my arms and take her upstairs, straight to the bathroom, where I set her on the counter.
She squeaks and clings to me. “Cold,” she says.
Chuckling, I reply, “Sorry.”
Slowly, she lowers herself down, and when I know she’s good, I step away and turn on the shower. When I turn to look at her, she lifts her brow and says, “What do you think you’re doing?”
I shrug. “Trying to get you to shower with me.”
“Isn’t there food in the oven?”
“Oh shit,” I say on a laugh. “You’re right. Uh . . .” I look around, trying to figure out what to do.
“Rinse yourself off, and I’ll listen for the food. But don’t even try to coerce me into that shower with you.”
I study her, waiting for her to change her mind, but when she doesn’t, I say, “Fine, but you owe me a shower.”
“We’ll see about that,” she replies, then leans in and presses a kiss to my lips.
I moan into her mouth, but she pushes me away. “Focus, Wyatt. I’m hungry, and I won’t let you burn that dinner. I need to see just how good of a cook you are.”
Smiling, I say, “Fine, but I’m having you for dessert.”
“So . . .?”I ask, watching her take another bite of my cheesy pasta noodles.
She glances up at me, her fork midway to her mouth as she says, “So what?”
“Uh, how do you like my dinner?”
She leans back in her chair and sets her fork down before placing her hands on her lap. “It’s decent.”
“Decent?” I nearly shout. “Aubree, you can’t be serious. This is fucking delightful.” I fork a noodle and pull it up toward my mouth, the mozzarella stretching with it. “Look at this. You don’t get this kind of stretch just anywhere. This is formed from a master at work. Me being the master.”
“You’re going from I don’t cook much to a master? That is quite the jump.”
“Babe,” I level with her. “Come on. This shit is good.”
She grins and picks up her fork. “Yes, it’s very good.”
I smack the table and shout, “I knew it! Fuck, look at me being husband of the year.”
“Wow,” she says. “If this is what the standards for being a great husband are, they’re pretty low.”
“You might be right about that. Let’s call it a stepping stone to becoming a great husband.”
“Much better.”
