He hated to keep assuming things, but he didn’t think Day had eaten much steak in his life.
Goldie brought over the plates to the coffee table, asking politely, “Would the gentleman like a drink with dinner?”
Day sat up when he saw the food, and his eyes widened. “Wow. You made that? For me?”
“Sure did.” Goldie smiled. “So, a drink?”
“Water?”
“You got it, baby.” Goldie leaned in to kiss the top of Day’s head, but Day grabbed his arm and pulled him down to press a passionate kiss to his lips. “Mmph, hi.” He laughed. “So, I should cook more often is what you’re saying?”
“I’m sorry.” Day kissed him again.
“Uh, while I definitely don’t mind you kissing me like that, I don’t understand why you’re apologizing?”
“You were trying to be kind,” Day replied, “and it made me angry. I thought you didn’t believe in my mission. You do believe, but you’re worried about me.” He let Goldie go so he wouldn’t have to stay bent over. “You don’t understand that I’m protected. You don’t want me to get into trouble.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” Goldie grunted and stood up straight. “And while you do seem to be very, very lucky, I don’t think anyone’s luck sticks around forever.”
“You think God would abandon me?”
“No, I didn’t say that—”
“But perhaps He would test me!” Day gasped. “You’re right. I need to think about this. I need…” His brow scrunched, and he tilted his head as if straining to listen for something. He suddenly appeared alarmed, and he pulled at his ear.
“Hey, baby,” Goldie soothed. “How about we start with you thinking about what you want to drink with dinner?”
“Water? I thought I said…”
“Oh, right. You did.” Goldie chuckled. “You and those kisses distracted me.”
Day smiled a little.
Goldie poured a glass of water and returned, settling on the couch beside Day. He bowed his head as Day said a quick prayer, and he waited for it to conclude before diving into his plate. He was hungry and always a fan of steak, eagerly devouring two big bites with hardly a breath in between.
Day was more cautious, and he only took a tiny nibble of his steak. His eyes widened almost comically, and he stared at Goldie in disbelief. “You made this?”
“Yes, indeed.” Goldie smiled. “Do you like it?”
“It’s like it came from a restaurant with cloth napkins,” Day gushed. “It’s wonderful.” He eagerly stuffed the rest of the piece of steak into his mouth with a moan that was practically pornographic. “Oh,angel.”
Goldie preened. “Well, you know, I am pretty good with meat.”
“Do you cook many meats?”
Goldie snorted when Day didn’t catch the innuendo, and he replied, “Sure. Beef, chicken, pork, anything. Tried to cook alligator once, the tail, eh, and that didn’t work out so great. So, I stick to what I know.”
Day ate every last bite of the filet, and only then did he tentatively taste the bacon and potatoes. He very obviously ate around the brussels sprouts.
“You can try one of them,” Goldie teased. “They don’t bite.”
Day wrinkled his nose.
“Well, if you don’t want them, I’ll eat them.” Goldie chuckled.
His phone beeped with a new text notification.
It was Florence.
