“Wait for me,” Rose ordered firmly. “I’ll be right back.”
I looked down at her in confusion.
“Sally needs my help. You don’t have to leave yet, do you?” she asked, mistaking my silence for something else.
“No,” I grumbled, and then I cleared my throat. “No, I’ll wait.”
After the new customers had grabbed their orders and were heading to the empty table, Rose got back to me.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even know why he thought coming here would be a good idea, but I don’t care. I won’t spend a single second talking about him.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” I lied. “Only…I don’t want you to talk to him again.”
“You’ll hear no arguments from me. Good. So…do you want to wait for a table to open, or do you want to eat with me in the kitchen?”
“What do you want to do?”
The smile that had been missing ever since Joshua Landon had walked in came back out for me again. “Kitchen. I like having you all to myself.”
It was one of the best things I had heard in all my life, if not the absolute best.
In the following days, Rose and I never talked about her ex’s sudden appearance, but I did have a private talk with him without her knowledge, for the last time.
Christmas Eve was nothing special compared to how others celebrated it. It was just the two of us, as neither one of us had family to celebrate it with. There had been an office party I could’ve taken her to, but she wasn’t completely back to herself yet, she still got headaches if she skipped her medicine, and I didn’t want her on her feet for more than a few hours.
As a last minute surprise, I brought in a small Christmas tree and enough ornaments to decorate the whole damn house if we wanted. It was a tradition I wanted to share with her. The smile that bloomed on her face when she saw me and Steve hauling the tree into the apartment was priceless. Her laughter that rung through the apartment as we decorated it together made it one of the best days of my life.
So, it was just us in front of the TV after we cooked together and then ate together. She fell asleep with her head on my shoulder around nine PM, twenty minutes into the movie she had picked for us to watch. When it ended, I woke her up with a kiss on her neck.
She walked in front of me all the way up the stairs, and I followed. We were both quiet. I shoved my hands in my pockets and stood in front of her door as she leaned back against the wall.
Neither of us wanted to say goodbye, so we stood there, looking into each other’s eyes and waiting for the other to do or say something that would keep us together longer.
“It was a good day. I really enjoyed cooking with you.”
“You didn’t cook, Rose. You sat on the counter and stole my carrots and roasted potatoes.”
“But you fed them to me yourself.”
“You stole more than what I gave you.”
“I shared my roasted chestnuts with you.”
I nodded and my eyes fell to her lips. “You did.”
“So do you want to make it a regular thing?”
“You mean where I cook for you and you steal from my preparations?”
She grinned and nodded enthusiastically.
“Sure. Why not.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds. I had no idea what she was thinking, but there were a few things crossing my mind.
“I should go,” she mumbled, but she didn’t make a move to leave. “Merry Christmas, Jack Hawthorne.” She leaned up, placed her hand on my chest, and softly kissed my lips. It was over in three seconds. It was over too soon.
“Merry Christmas, Rose Hawthorne.” Then it was my turn to kiss her. It maybe lasted five, six seconds.
“Good night Jack.” She leaned up again, and we went for another kiss as I tried to hide my smile and kiss her back at the same time. On this round, she let her tongue tangle with mine and cupped my cheek. When I opened my eyes, hers were still closed. She sighed and licked her lips. They were already red. They were perfect.
I smiled down at her, but she missed it.
She fisted my sweater with one hand and dropped her forehead to my chest. My smile widened and I wrapped one of my hands around her waist, using the other to tilt her chin up.
“What are you thinking, Rose?”
She let out a long breath and then grimaced. “That I really want you.”
I arched an eyebrow, the admission coming out of nowhere and kicking me in the stomach.
“And we are married, but we haven’t even gone out on a real, official date yet. I really want to have sex with you, but I’m not allowed to do that yet. I feel like everything is going the wrong way with us. It’s all backward, and it’s frustrating the hell out of me.”