I peer at him. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. Get your laptop, and I’ll prove it to you.”
"No, I'll take your word for it. Nerd."
Archie bursts out laughing. “Is that going to be your pet name for me?”
I purse my lips. “That’s not a bad idea. Either that or Archieosaurus.”
“That’s a bit of a mouthful during sex.”
“Archieraptor?” I suggest, not even remotely serious.
“That’s a bit better. Why don’t you try out those names when you fuck me later?”
“We’re going to have sex later?”
“Isn’t that normally what happens after a date?”
I shrug and polish off the last couple of mouthfuls of my casserole before replying. “I thought it was more customary to finish the date with a chaste kiss on the cheek.”
Archie snorts. “I think we’re a bit past that, don’t you?”
“True.”
He finishes his food and reaches for my bowl.
“You don’t have to,” I say.
“I want to. You cooked. It’s only fair I wash up.”
“That’s what Mam always said to Elsie and me. She’d cooked, so the pair of us had to wash up.”
“What about your dad?” Archie asks.
I roll my eyes. “My dad didnotdo housework. Looking back, I can see that Dad was a terrible role model. He went out to work, and as far as he was concerned, that was his entire job. At home, he didn’t lift a finger. According to Mam, Dad never even so much as changed a nappy when Elsie and I were babes.”
Archie stares at me, his jaw slack.
“I take it your dad wasn’t like that?”
“No. Both my parents always worked, and they did their share around the house. As soon as we were old enough to help, Blake, Corey, and I had a list of chores we each had to get done.”
“Mam didn’t help,” I say. “She bought into the crap about women running the home. Other than washing up, I wasn’t expected to do much, except clean up after myself. She taught Elsie how to cook, but whenever I expressed interest, she told me to find myself a good woman to cook for me.”
“Wow.”
“They were from a different generation,” I remind him. “Things have moved on a lot since they were raising Elsie and me.”
“I guess…”
“Do you want me to help?”
“No. I’ve got this.”
I watch him as he cleans up our bowls, cutlery, and everything I used to cook with, even though he could have just stacked the dishwasher. With his back to me, it’s hard not to notice the way his trousers hug his arse. I wait until he’s drying the last dish and then wander over to him. I put my hands on his hips and kiss his neck.
“That’s nice, Sir,” he murmurs.
