“No,youdon’t like the seeds. I don’t mind either way.”
“Really?”
Fitz nods.
“I always thought you hated the seeds as much as I do.”
“No, but there’s no point in having two pots of jam in.”
I grab one of the sandwiches. “Only we could have a deep conversation about jam.”
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Fitz asks. “We can have the most mundane conversations and be happy because we’re talking to each other.”
I tilt my head as I stare at him.
“What?” he asks before finishing off his sandwich.
“I was just thinking that things haven’t really changed.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Except for getting naked and humping until we come?”
I laugh loudly. “Aside from that.” I stroke his cheek. “We’re still the same two people we were before we kissed, having the same conversations.”
“I know. We’re so dull.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m very exciting.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I am. I have a dangerous job.”
Fitz presses his lips together. I can tell he’s trying not to laugh by the way his eyes are dancing with light and the quiver of his mouth.
“And I do adventurous things.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Like having picnics in February.”
Fitz sucks in a breath. “There is a word to describe that, but it’s not adventurous.”
I lean forward and kiss him. “What word is that?”
“Foolish?” He tips his head from side to side. “Maybe daft.”
“Well, if I’m daft, you are too.”
“That’s very true.”
“At least we’re daft together.” I rub the tip of my nose against his.
“Your nose is cold,” Fitz grumbles.
“So is yours.”
“And whose fault isthat?”
I massage his nose with the palm of my hand. “Mine.”
