“Yeah.” I turn the stove off. “It’s a mild yellow curry and rice.”
Her eyes relax, and a warm smile forms as she sits down on the bar stool. “It looks delicious.” A sound rumbles in her throat. “Is this your good-husband thing? Cooking?”
“Maybe.” I wink at her before I dish out the food. I figure we can keep it simple and eat at the counter.
She bites her inner cheek as she watches me place the plate in front of her and remains somewhat in awe that I cook. I find my spot next to her and hand her a fork.
“Okay, here I go, I’m digging in,” she announces before she brings a forkful of food to her mouth to blow on then carefully takes a bite. Hadley stalls as she chews, watching me, because she knows I’m waiting for my appraisal. She swallows, and her face stays neutral. “It’s… good.” Her facial expression relaxes.
“I know.”
“I don’t even want to know what you do when you actually try to impress a girl,” she mentions before her fork dishes up another bite.
I study her for a second while I eat my own bite. “Not this. This is casual-weekday Connor.”
“As opposed to puck-bunny Fridays?”
Ah, so she’s fishing into my dating history.
“Cute. And no, cooking is reserved for wives.”
“You’ve only ever had one wife.”
I point my fork at her. “Smart.”
Hadley sets her fork down and her look of hesitation returns before she surveys the room. “More gifts?”
“Ridiculous, huh?”
“Depends. Are there any big water bottles? I could use a new one.”
I laugh because I appreciate that she doesn’t care for fancy things, she’s all practical.
“You know, other than your ridiculous request for birthday cakes, party dresses, and a dance studio in your house, contrary to what people would assume, you’re not a spoiled princess.”
She rests her chin onto her propped arm. “First off, cake is important for the soul, so it better be good. Second, dresses are key for many situations; weddings, birthdays, proms, impromptu elopements. And finally, the small dance studio in my parents’ house was all my dad’s idea when I was six.”
I scratch my end-of-day stubble on my chin at the mention of her father. He gave me the father-of-the-bride speech the other day, nothing I wasn’t prepared for or couldn’t handle, but our relationship is one of understanding—ensure Hadley has the best life.
“You okay? Seemed like you were kind of out of it after seeing your dad,” I pry.
“I’m fine.” She’s lying, but I let it go.
We stew for a few beats in silence, just playing with our food. I’m not sure we’re that hungry.
But then she does something that catches me off guard. She lunges forward on the chair, cups my face with both hands, and plants her lips on mine.
It takes a moment to digest what is happening, but then I close my eyes and give back as much she gives, which is a lot. I snake my arm around her middle to keep her close. Her lips nearly suck the life out of me, it’s a bruising kiss, and we both moan a sound of satisfaction. She’s fervent and determined, I’m not sure of what, but I’m sure as hell along for the ride. I’m lost in this kiss that she owns.
The sound of our lips parting is what causes me to open my lids and see her swollen lips.
“I’m deciding,” she states. My eyes widen slightly because she has my full attention, and her eyes meet mine. Hers filled with adventure and mine filled with hope. “About you. This husband-and-wife thing, as if we could actually work.”
I swivel my stool to allow me to have her in full view and for my fingertips to rest on her lower arm. “Why not go all in and see if we can prove ourselves wrong?”
An audible breath escapes her lips. “People change, but I don’t want to be on the receiving end if you haven’t. I wanted to make you suffer, and I’m sure you had some other plan too. But the difference between you and me is that I can’t survive you hurting me a second time around.”
I squeeze her arm, because nothing I say will rewind the clock, all I can do is be honest. “I want to prove you wrong. Maybe waking up married was our odd way of getting a fresh start.”
