“Good answer, Rufus.”
He kissed me gently and then we headed downstairs and drove to a little hole-in-the wall French bistro. It was exactly what I needed.
* * *
“Ican’t get over howmuch food there was,” I said as Jaxon drove us back to his home. “We’re going to have leftovers for days.”
He smiled. “No, we really won’t.”
“Right, I forgot how much you can eat.”
“Oh, hello Pot, I’m Kettle.”
“Okay, I forgot how muchIcan eat,” I conceded.
He took my hand and linked his fingers with mine. “You up to stopping at the store? That way we can stay in all weekend.”
“You mean, we’re not going to hike up Mt. Hood?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do youwantto hike up Mt. Hood?”
“Hell, no, I do not. I will never want to do that, but if it’s something you like to do, I’m open to trying things you like to do.”
“Jesus, you really are perfect,” he said with a chuckle.
“Don’t go there, Jax.”
“Why not?”
“Because it won’t last. I don’t want you getting your hopes up. I’m letting you see the best of me right now. It won’t be long before I’ll be scratching myself and farting in front of you.”
“Or, if you have an itch, I’ll scratch it.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Only if you give me crabs, otherwise, I’ll be scratching myself.”
He let out a deep belly laugh, squeezing my hand as he did it. “Jesus Christ,” he hissed, still laughing.
“I may have had more wine than I thought.”
“Maybe you haven’t had enough,” he said, as we pulled into the Fred Meyer parking lot and found a spot close to the front. “Let’s rectify that.”
I chuckled. “Is your plan to keep me drunk and horny all weekend?”
“Is that an option?”
“Wine makes me horny as hell, so, yes, it’s an option.”
He grinned. “Let’s get in there, then.”
We headed inside and stocked up for our love weekend.
* * *
“You want ice cream?” Jaxon asked, reaching into the fridge for a beer.
“Hells, yes, I want ice cream.”
He grinned and handed me a small pint of butter pecan and a spoon, then opened his beer. “You’re not going to join me?” I asked.
