He rakes his teeth over his lower lip. “I’m sure I will.”
My heart patters. I want to lean across the table and kiss him, but I content myself with eating more of the wonderful food he’s made.
When I’m done, I pat my stomach. “That was amazing, Fitz. I’m not sure I could eat another bite.”
“There’s pudding.”
“Perhaps a break first? Unless it will spoil?”
“It won’t.” He starts to clear up.
“Leave it. The dishes can wait too.” I stand and hold out my hand. “Come over here with me.”
He takes my hand, and I lead him to the sofa.
“So many blossom petals!”
“I might have gone a bit overboard,” I admit.
“I love them.”
I sit on the sofa and tug him down beside me. He snuggles against me, his legs bent and his feet on the sofa.
“I think we might be trying a bit too hard tonight,” I say as I stroke his hair.
He looks up at me and sighs. “We are. Or I am, at least. I wanted things to be special. It’s our first Valentine’s Day as a couple rather than two friends spending the day together because neither of us has a date.”
“I’ve never scattered blossom petals everywhere,” I point out.
“True.”
“Does it have to be any different?” I muse. “You’ve cooked us elaborate meals on Valentine’s Day before.”
He shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe we have different expectations?” He picks a few petals up and then releases them, watching as they slowly drift onto the sofa.
“I just want to spend time with you like we have been doing every other night.”
“But with more food.”
“Yes, with alotmore food. Whatisfor pudding?”
He strokes my belly. “Have you got room for more food already?”
“No, but I still want to know.”
“It’s a surprise.”
I pout, which makes Fitz laugh. Then he pushes up and pecks me quickly. I catch him before he can lie down again, holding him tight as I give him a much longer, deeper kiss. He wraps his arms around my neck, and I coax him onto my lap. Once he’s settled, I put my hands on his hips and keep kissing him.
“I love kissing you,” I whisper against his lips.
“It’s a lot of fun.” He rests his forehead against mine and strokes my beard.
I put my arms around his back and flip him onto the sofa. Air whooshes out of his lungs.
“Is kissing more fun like this?” I ask, leaning over him.
He puts his hand on my chest and stares into my eyes. “Maybe it would be more fun on a bed?”
