“It’s beautiful.”
I can see the pride shining through on his face. “What do we need to do first for the pizza?”
I inspect the ingredients already on the counter. I grab the yeast, flour, oil, and salt, setting them close to the mixer. “I’ll measure out the yeast. You get me two cups of hot water.”
“Yes, ma’am!” He salutes me and goes to fill the water.
The edges of my mouth turn up as he turns away.
After the yeast mixture turns frothy, I have him begin measuring out cups of flour while I measure out the salt and oil and search for a pizza stone.
Giving Andrew sole responsibility for the flour was my first mistake. He pulls a cup out of the bag, overflowing with flour, and levels it off, spreading more flour across the already powder-covered counter.
“Do you need help?” I laugh.
“No! No! No! I’ve got this,” he insists.
As he scoops the last cup, he takes his powdered hands and flicks them at me, caking me in flour. I shriek in shock and narrow my eyes at him as he grabs my waist and pulls me toward him, pressing a big white handprint on the waistband of my joggers.
“Andrew! You’re getting flour all over me!” I reach past himfor the bag, sticking my own hands in the flour and then pressing them to his cheeks as I kiss him.
The look of shock on his face makes me giggle. “Oh, that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” He scoops another handful of flour and flicks it at me, covering my entire front side.
I gasp and try to reach for more flour from the bag, but he blocks me. I settle for scooping flour off the counter and swatting it in his direction just as he grabs me by the hips and lifts me onto the counter. He steps between my legs and kisses me tenderly, making me completely forget the intense flour fight we were just having.
I swoon as he says with a sly grin on his face, “I like making pizza with you.”
“Me too,” I reply, pulling him back to me for another long, slow kiss.
An hour later, we have mostly cleaned up the kitchen and ourselves. We devoured our pizzas. They were nothing fancy, but they were made with passion and love, making it some of the best pizza I’ve ever had.
I pull the plastic cleaning gloves off my hands. “I have another song to show you. Can I queue it up?”
“Sure,” he hands me his phone between drying dishes.
I quickly search for the song I’m looking for as I realize the one currently playing is about to come to an end. I swipe over to add it to the queue and tell him, “Listen to the words. I think you’ll like the song, but the words remind me of myself.” I laugh nervously.
The song begins. Several lines in, I quickly interject, “Here comes the part I like!” I sing along.
Andrew’s grin breaks wide as he watchesme lovingly. “Is that all you need? A little dancing around the kitchen? Some hugging and kissing?” He quotes the song.
He wraps me up in his arms again, and we are dancing along to the song. The song is too upbeat for slow dancing, so Andrew has a little hop in his step that’s awkward but cute. I giggle with him as he spins me around and then pulls me in for a kiss.
“I like the song.”
I beam softly, ignoring the fluttering feeling in my stomach as he takes me in with his beautiful blue eyes. I swear they can see into my soul, but the amazing part is, he sees my whole soul and still thinks it’s beautiful.
“I have a song for you too. Hopefully, you don’t know it because it isn’t very new.” He queues up the song and sings along with Tim McGraw about how I’m both his lover and his best friend.
My heart swells as I listen to the sweet words. There’s something about that song that resonates with me. I think it has to do with the way Andrew and I are even better in a romantic relationshipbecausewe are best friends.
We continue going back and forth for almost half an hour before he finally pauses the music. “It’s about time for the grand finale,” he announces.
“What grand finale?”
He scoops me up and carries me piggyback into the bonus room where I see for the first time a huge pile of pillows and blankets on the couch.
“We are going to build a fort,” he says, clearly trying to hold in his excitement.
