“How much longer?”
“I plan to defend by the end of the summer if I can get over this writer’s block.”
Canaan shrugged and sipped on his juice. “And if you don’t, it’s not the end of the world.”
Pressing my hand against his chest, I shook my head. “Don’t do that.”
“What?” He raised a brow.
“Dismiss my dream.”
“I wasn’t. Simply stating a fact that if you don’t finish in time, it’s not the end of the world. Learn not to place so much expectation in something over which you have no control.” He kissed my cheek.
Placated, I picked up my phone from the table and quickly snapped a selfie of us appearing cozy before he could protest. “Forewarned, I snap and post many pics on social media. I’ll ask before I post any of us.”
Canaan grumbled, “I hate social media.”
“I can tell. Who runs your account?”
He gulped his orange juice.
I gasped. “No way do you have time to do it right and do all that you do.”
“I do all right,” Canaan defended with an uncertain smile.
“It’s because you’re fine as fuck that you can get away with posting your own pics. Throw a few thirst-trapping shirtless pics, and you have millions of followers. You really should let me manage your account, at least while we’re together. Show you how it’s done.”
“Nope. Not trying to fight with you about all those DMs I get since you like to carve scars on women when you’re jealous.” His grip tightened around my waist, and he nuzzled his nose against my neck affectionately until I giggled.
“I wasn’t jealous,” I lied. “I was pretending so the women know not to come near you when I’m around.”
“Yeah . . . Okay.” Canaan grinned and grabbed a slice of apple.
“Don’t tell me you actually have reached out to some desperate woman who messaged you?”
“Sometimes I get bored.” Before I could retort, he pressed his lips against mine.
“No, Canaan.” I moved my head and half rose to make my escape. Ms. Murielle walked back into the room, and I dropped back into his lap. I rolled my eyes while Canaan’s bright eyes twinkled.
“You two remind me of me and my late husband. We couldn’t stay away from each other, either.” She winked before grabbing a half-eaten platter of spinach frittatas.
I jumped up to assist her. “I can get this.”
Ms. Murielle shook her head. “Enjoy your man while you can. This one stays busy. Besides, this is my job.”
“I don’t mind.” I picked up her plate. Canaan promptly took the plate from my hand and set it down.
“Well, I do.” Ms. Murielle firmly stated.
“Kens, she means it.” Canaan stood up and grabbed my hand. “Let’s leave Ms. Murielle in peace. We need to do some shopping.”
“Oh, you decided to come with, my lord?” I playfully bowed.
“Yeah, need to make sure you choose the right clothes. Your fashion is questionable,” he teased as he led the way.
Ms. Murielle commented, “Don’t let him insult you. He loves to get under your skin. From what I can see, you’re a beautiful woman with nice taste.”
“Don’t worry, I know how aggravating he is.” I pinched his firm, muscled side, and he yelped.
