“I suppose so,” I said, smiling.
The housekeeper must have left just minutes before we arrived, judging by the kitchen. The corn sat on a serving platter in the middle of the kitchen, still steaming hot. Silverware, plates, and napkins sat on a carrying tray. On the stove lay a long rack of ribs, which looked as if we had been slow-cooked while I and Niklas were out.
“Hungry?” asked Niklas, standing right behind me. “The potato salad is probably in the fridge. I just need to put the ribs on the grill out back.”
Had he organized this to make sure the day ended right? The idea was enough to melt the last of the tension from the rink. I turned and put my arms around his waist, leaning against the warmth of his chest.
“Thank you,” I said. “You know, you’re pretty good at this boyfriend thing.”
Niklas kissed the top of my head and smoothed my hair down my back.
“Beginner’s luck,” he whispered, kissing me again.
I smiled. “You must be starving. I’m hungry, and I didn’t do anything to earn it.”
“Don’t worry. You can earn it later,” he said, his gaze darkening.
