“Are you nervous?” he asked.
“No, I’m not nervous. That’s a lie. I am a little nervous.” She gave a chuckle. “I imagine come Monday there’s going to be a lot of talk about us.”
“Let them talk. This is so damn good.”
“Thank you. It’s my mom’s recipe.”
He was happy to change the subject. The rest of the town could wait until Monday. After dinner, Drew wasn’t ready to leave.
“I’ll just do the dishes.”
“You don’t have to. You were at work all day.”
“So were you. My dad helped with the dishes all the time, and he was convinced it helped the relationship in the long run,” he said, carrying their used plates.
“Mom could never shout at him for not doing housework. He did his fair share. He helped with the dishes, took the trash out, and even mowed the lawn.”
“Sounds like a keeper.”
“He was, and guess what?” he said.
She turned to face him, and he put his hands on the counter, locking her between his body and the counter. “I’m exactly like him. So you’re in for having a keeper as well.”
“Are you trying to charm me?” she asked.
Drew was doing that thing again where he invaded her space and made it difficult for her to think.
“That depends,” he said.
“Is it working?”
He chuckled, stepping up close to her, and giving her no choice but to tilt her head back to look at him. “My parents had a happy marriage, and I intend to have the same kind of marriage as them.”
“Yes.” His hand touched her hip, and his breath fanned her face. “I can imagine you swollen with my kid. Coming home to you, to having some good food, and to being close to you.”
“Do you expect me to wait for you at home?”
“No, but did I mention I think about you being heavily pregnant? If you are then I don’t want you working. Also, I don’t want us to have kids right away.”
“No. You’ve been away from me for seven years. I want to make up for lost time so every room in my home and your apartment is going to have us fucking.”