He took my breath away. How was he even mine?
He opened one drawer, then another, looking for something and not finding it until lucky number four—only to frown as he flicked through the stash of coffee pods that had probably been there for years.
“You’re judging me, aren’t you?” I said, my voice still raspy with sleep.
He didn’t turn around, only held one pod up at a time to inspect each one. “These expired five years ago.”
“Coffee expires?”
“These do.”
“Well, in my defense, I don’t use them,” I said, walking over and wrapping my arms around him from behind. He smelled like my soap, and I took a deep inhale, running my nose along his neck.
The coffee was forgotten about then, the pods dropped back into the drawer as Rafael spun around, smiling.“Good morning,” he said, running his hands up my arms as I pulled him in tighter.
“You’re a menace. It’s six a.m.”
“It’s eight thirty.”
“That’s still criminal.” I leaned in to give him a soft kiss.
“Maybe. I guess I shouldn’t confess that I’ve been up for hours.”
“Uh, no. You definitely shouldn’t mention that.”
He grinned wider, and I couldn’t get over how different he looked today. Almost younger, somehow? Or maybe it was thathe seemed more at ease, the serious line usually between his brows smooth and unburdened.
“I wanted to make you coffee, but?—”
“You only found expired pods.” I nodded past him. “That’s because I use grounds and an actual coffeemaker. Did you not have those at St. Andrews?”
Rafael rolled his eyes—actually rolled his eyes at me—and held up an empty ceramic container. “Those don’t usually work with just water, and this was empty.”
“Then I guess you’re forgiven for not snooping enough.” I opened the freezer. I was down to the last couple of bags of my favorite dark roast and I opened one and poured it in the container.
Rafael picked up the empty bag and read the back of it. “Where’s this from?”
“Indonesia.”
“No, I mean, where do you buy it?”
“Thatiswhere you buy it.” I shot him a wink over my shoulder and went about making a pot for us. “Theo brings me back a few bags every time he goes over.”
Rafael blinked, sniffed at the bag, and frowned. “Huh.”
“I mean, I could fly over and get it myself, but it’s a long flight and he owes me anyway.”
“Does he?” He settled back against the counter and watched me with curious eyes. “What does he owe you for?”
“You want the list? It’s long.”
“Lucky for me, I’ve got time.” Reaching up, he brushed a lock of my hair that had escaped the tie back behind my ear and then ran the backs of his fingers down my neck. His touch sent electric shocks through my body like it was the first time he’d ever been this close.
This, right here, was all I’d ever wanted, this simple moment: the two of us doing nothing important at all, just being together, making coffee, all the small things that added up to make a life.
“Well, for one, I kept his and Shep’s first wedding pictures out of the media for a good week or so, which is quite the feat, I might add. But I managed. I scoured the interwebs all over to make sure they got to show the world the photo of their choice, when they wanted. Gossip was harder, but they were grateful all the same.”
“I’m sure they were. Moments like that are sacred, special, should be shared when the couple decides, not when the world demands it.”
