But he didn't mention my pregnancy or marriage. It was as if our discussion in the bathroom at Crave had never happened.
I wasn't sure if I was relieved or worried.
I didn't want him to pressure me. Not at all.
But I had expected him to at least talk about it. He'd mentioned discussing it again later, so I assumed that tonight would be considered later.
Right?
Instead, I ate the delicious, healthy meal he made for me and no longer thought about falling asleep in my chair. I was caught up on my studying for the day and it was only nine-thirty, a good hour before I normally went to bed.
After we ate, J.J. gathered our dishes, took the chicken and vegetables out of the oven to cool, and started washing the dishes. I got up to help, but he waved me away.
It didn't take him long and when he was done, he put the dishtowel neatly on the rack, exactly the way I usually left it hanging.
"I didn't think to bring dessert," he said. "I wasn't sure what you would want."
I grinned at him. "How about s'mores?" I asked. "With Nutella instead of chocolate squares?"
"Sounds good, but am I gonna have to start a fire first?"
I shook my head and got up to take the ingredients out of the pantry. "We have everything we need here in the kitchen.
Once I had graham crackers broken in half and slathered with Nutella, I removed the grate over the gas burner on my stove and turned it on.
"Oh, I see," J.J. said behind me. "Cool idea."
I didn't bother asking him how he wanted his marshmallow because he'd always burnt them to a crisp when he came over for weenie roasts at my parents' house. They didn't often let us have friends over because, with four sons close in age, that meant a house full of teenage boys who could clear out a full pantry in a matter of minutes. Weenie roasts in the fall and early spring were the exception. Hot dogs and buns were pretty cheap, as were graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars. At least once a month during the cooler seasons, my parents would let us invite our friends over.
Well, I would have if I'd had many friends growing up.
My brothers had such a reputation as hellions that most of the parents in town kept their daughters away from me for fear of what might happen.
It was probably a smart move on their part, but it meant that I didn't have a lot of friends when I graduated high school.
During college, I didn't have many friends because I had no clue how to make them or keep them after so many years of solitude.
As soon as the marshmallow was almost black on the outside, I placed it between the crackers and pulled the fork out of it. Smiling, I handed it to J.J.
"Thanks. I can't believe you remembered how I like them."
I shrugged and put another marshmallow on the fondue fork. "You always incinerated them when you came over for weenie roasts. Kinda hard not to miss when you were the only guy with a black marshmallow on your s'more."
J.J. grinned but didn't speak. He just grabbed the s'more and lifted it to his mouth for a big bite.
I giggled as he sucked in air and cursed when the molten marshmallow hit his tongue.
When mine was lightly toasted and just a shade darker than golden brown, I put it between two graham crackers and smooshed it flat.
In a few quick motions, I had the fondue fork in the sink of soapy water, the burner off, and the rack back in place.
"Cheers," I said to J.J., lifting my s'more up to him.
He laughed. "I see that hasn't changed either."
He tapped his graham cracker goodness against mine and we each took a bite.
"Mmmmhhhhmmmm, yum," I moaned.
