“Yeah, the best somethings,” Mara quips, slinging her arm around my shoulder.
Waiting for Kash to get home, I slide another tray into the oven. I decided to try a new recipe I found for orange rolls. I think they’ll make a great addition to our menu, but last time I tried to make them, they came out dry, and I refuse to sell dry baked goods.
Letting them rest in the pan, I inhale the scent of citrus and vanilla and smile. If they taste half as good as they look, I have no doubt they‘ll be a great seller. Music flows through the speaker in Kash’s kitchen. I wish it was a bit bigger, but I guess apartment kitchens aren’t meant to be overly large. What I wouldn’t give for a country-style kitchen, large ovens and tons of counter space. A kitchen island in the center, ready to hold all the things I make.
After mixing powdered sugar with orange zest and a smidge of juice, I quickly whisk it together, enjoying the way it smells.
“Let me taste that,” a masculine voice sounds behind me.
Whirling around, I almost drop the bowl from my hands. Kash stands in the doorway, leaning against it like he doesn’t have a care in the world, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
“You scared me!” I scold him. “How long have you been there? What are the flowers for? What's the special occasion?”
Putting the bowl on the counter, I move to turn down the music, but Kash steps forward, stopping me. He drops the flowers on the counter, then lays his hand over mine. I go willingly when he pulls me into his arms. Kash tilts his head to the side and gives me a warm smile. “One question at a time, honey. First, I didn’t mean to scare you. Second, I’ve been here long enough to think about putting you on that counter and using whatever frosting you’re making as a very sweet treat. Third, the flowers are for you, and the occasion is, I wanted to see you smile.”
Well, shit.I don’t have a response to any of that.
Shaking his head, Kash leans down and presses a quick kiss on my lips. “If I bring home flowers for any other reason than to see the smile on your face, I’ve already failed.”
I’m still not used to how open Kash is with his affection and feelings. I don’t ever want to take him for granted or expect him to be this way all the time. That’s how people get let down.
Squeezing my sides, Kash brings my attention back to him. “How long do we have?”
“For what?”
“How long, Mila?”
Looking at the clock, I do some quick math, then smile, “About forty minutes. Why?”
“Perfect.” Kash kisses the top of my head, then pulls out his phone. Tapping at the screen a few times, a song cuts out over the Bluetooth speaker, and the opening chords of a very familiar song start to play.
“Dance with me, Sunshine.”
“The kitchen is a mess, and I need to clean it up. I can’t?—”
“You can and you will,” he interrupts me, softly kissing my lips.
Leaning into the kiss, I wrap my arms around his neck, trying to deepen it, but he pulls back.
“Kash, you don’t have to do romantic gestures every day,” I murmur softly, looking into his eyes. I like him for who he is, not what he can do.
“Oh, I know.” He tugs me closer to his body, eyes staring into mine. “But when I know the result is going to be your smile, it’s all the incentive I need.”
I can’t believe this is Kash. I spent so much time thinking I knew who he was and what he was about, but I keep seeing how wrong I was. I was right to be hesitant initially, but Kash has consistently shown me who he is, day in and day out. He’s funny and thoughtful, and even though he has a loud personality, it’s like he saves it forcertain times. When it’s just the two of us, he’s more reserved. Not quiet, but it’s like he doesn't feel like he has to entertain everyone.
I like it when it’s just us.
Intertwining our fingers together, he tucks one hand into his chest and the other around my waist. Swaying in a small circle in his kitchen, Kash sings along as the song plays. A song about a love so deep that not even death could stop them from being together. A love so deep it would physically hurt to be separated. Resting my head against his chest, I will myself not to cry.
The simplest things have been making me tear up. I was working on something in the kitchen with Kate the other day, and she paused for a moment, looking around. We were laughing about something stupid, but when she told me how glad she was that we took a chance on her, because she loved working with us so much, I cried for ten minutes straight. She panicked of course, but I assured her I was fine.
Letting Kash’s voice wash over me, I pretend that we’re dancing in our own home instead of this apartment. He’d finish putting our kids down for bed, then come in search of me. I’d of course be in our kitchen, putting everything away for the night. He wouldn’t say anything at first—just stand there and watch me the way I see him do sometimes when he thinks I’m not paying attention. I wish I was wearing something pretty or elaborate, but Kash seems to feel the same regardless of what I’m wearing.
He’d pull me in his arms, just like he is now, and tell me he loves me as we sway in the kitchen. Tears burn my eyes, and I blink them away. It’s a fairy tale more than anything. Things like this just don’t happen in real life.
No one stays happy and in love forever, right?
Chapter Fifty-One
