“So, I have an idea,” he says, giving me a quick, smiling glance over his shoulder as he stirs something in the pan.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“I will trade you all the candy I get tonight…” He turns off the burner and spins to face me. “If you tell me what JJ stands for.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re still on that?”
“If I’m anything, it’s persistent.” He walks to me, sliding his hands around my waist.
“You? No way.”
His eyes shine with humor.
“So, do we have a deal?”
“No deal.”
“What?” he cries, his hands falling to his sides. “Why not?”
“Don’t care for candy.”
His head drops back on his shoulders, and he groans an annoyed sound.
“Come on,” he complains, lifting his head to look me in the eye. “What’ll it take for you to tell me?”
I bring my hands up to cup his cheeks and lean in to kiss him, then softly say, “I just don’t think you’re ready for that level of information yet.”
“It’s your name,” he pouts.
“And so much power can be held by just knowing a name.”
His eyes narrow. “Are you a serial killer or something?”
The laugh falls out of me unexpectedly, loud and deep. “Do you think I’d be working at a firehouse if it was so simple to find that out?”
“No,” he whines. “Which is why I don’t know why you won’t tell me.”
“Because if I tell you, then you’ll stop asking.”
His eyes narrow as he bites his bottom lip. “And why don’t you want me to stop?”
I can tell in his tone that he’s fishing for a compliment. I’ll give it to him.
“Because you’re cute when you beg.”
“I have not resorted to begging yet,” he says firmly.
“Yet.”
He kisses me again, then pulls away to put the soup he made into a bowl.
“Did you eat?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“There is leftover chicken and rice soup, if you want some.”
“I’m good but thank you.”
