She looks at me confused. “Uhm, home? I’d ask you todrive me but I don’t want to interrupt your cooking so I’ll just walk.”
I set the knife down and wipe my hands on a towel before moving towards her. “You aren’t going anywhere, sugar. You just worked a full day and it’s dark out already. I’m cooking you dinner and then I’ll drive you home after.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she tries to protest but I’m already shaking my head at her.
“You are my wife and I shall treat you as such. Now take your shoes off and take a seat on the couch. If you want, you can turn on the fireplace. I know how much you love to sit in front of a hot fire.”
She squints at me and bites back a smirk.
“Nick,” she whispers even though we’re standing face to face.
“Noelle,” I parrot.
“I’m not actually your wife. You do know that, right? This”—she waves a hand between us—“Isfake, as in,not real. You don’t need to treat me in any kind of way when we’re at home. It’s just the two of us, you don’t have to pretend anymore and you certainly don’t have to cook me dinner.”
“Maybe I just want to do something nice for you, have you ever considered that?” I lift my brows at her.
“Why would you want to do something nice for me?”
Because I’m still in love with you, that’s why.
“Okay, maybe it’s not a nice thing for you as much as it is a nice thing for me,” I lie, coming up with something off the cuff. “I don’t want to eat alone tonight and you’re already here. This is me being selfish and getting what I want.”
She studies me for a second but takes me for my word.
“Okay, if you don’t want to eat alone I guess I can stay. Do you want my help with anything?” Her eyes glance towards the prep I’ve already started.
“I want nothing other than for you to take a seat and relax.You do everything for everyone all day; let someone do something for you for once.” My hand comes to her cheek as I look at her. She swallows hard and only replies with a nod. When I pull my hand away she moves towards the couch, kicking her loafers off onto the floor before flipping the switch on which causes the fireplace to come to life. When she settles into the couch, I move to the kitchen to cook us dinner. Every few minutes I look up from the food to steal a glance at her and every few times I do, she’s already looking back at me.
Once dinner is done, I set the table and call her in. Her eyes widen as she takes in the meal I’ve made for us from scratch. Steam rises from the plates and as we both take our seats, I hear her stomach grumble from hunger.
“Oh my gosh,” she says, wrapping her arms around her stomach, looking embarrassed. “I guess I’m hungrier than I thought I was.”
“I always loved your appetite,” I comment, smiling at her from the other side of the table. “I like a girl who isn’t afraid to eat.”
“More like a pig who can’t control herself sometimes,” she mutters under her breath.
“Hey,” I snap and she looks at me. “Don’t talk about my wife like that.”
She huffs out a laugh and shakes her head at me. “You really gotta cool it with the ‘wife’ thing.”
“Why? Is it feeling a little too real for you?” I tease. The corner of my lips pull back as she looks at me.
“No. But I don’t want it becoming too real foryou.I only need this to work till Chrismtas then it’s all over.”
I nod my head mockingly at her. “Sure, sure. You’re worried about this becoming too real forme. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
“I have no doubt that this won’t become too real for me. You’re nothing but a favor to me. That’s it,” she states a littletoo matter-of-factly to believe. Like she’s trying to convince herself more than she’s trying to convince me.
“Whatever you say,wife. Whatever you say.” I take a bite of the dinner I’ve made and glance up at her as she takes the first bite. When she takes a bite, her eyes close and she lets out a sound that is a cross between a moan and a squeal. Either way, it makes my dick jump in my pants.
“Holy crap, this is so good,” she compliments. She takes a second then third bite. The more she eats, the more my pride swells knowing I’ve made her happy.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Where did you learn to cook like this? You never knew how to cook growing up,” she comments, filling her mouth with more food.
“Yeah, well, when you’re seventeen and your mom is making all your meals for you there’s really no reason to know how to cook. It’s a skill I’ve picked up since being gone.”
