Life couldn’t be better. Some days, like today, I make dinner for us in the kitchenette.
“I don’t know.” Rose enters the room, wrapped in a fluffy hotel robe. “What are you in the mood for?” she asks, drying her hair with a white towel.
I get up from the couch and stand behind her, taking the towel from her hands.
“You. I’m always in the mood for you.”
She snickers and turns around in my arms. Her eyes are glazed, her cheeks a rosy pink. I’d wager a bit from the shower and a bit from me. “Um, I meant to eat.”
“Me too, baby. I’m in the mood to eat you.” I bite her earlobe.
“But I’m not on the menu.” Her trembly voice is filled with that sexy lilt that calls to my body.
“No, you’re not. You’re prepared just for me, and I’m going to savor you bit by bit, piece by piece.” I kiss behind her earlobe and descend lower to her neck. “You’re tailored to my taste buds—a bit juicy, a bit fruity.” I open her bathrobe and taste those beautiful rosy nipples. I get down on my knees, kissing her stomach. “A little mellow, a little lush.”
“Zander! Did you…just call me lush…while kissing my stomach?” Her brows knit in confusion as she pulls back from me and closes her bathrobe. “You think I’m fat?” Her eyes widen, and her cheeks turn scarlet.
But I don’t think it’s because of me this time. Or maybe it is.
“Am I fat?” She runs to the mirror and turns side to side, looking at her flat stomach.
“No, couch girl. You’re not fat. You know that.” I stand behind her, rubbing my hands over her stomach through the robe. “You’re perfect.”
“Oh my God, you’re patronizing me! You think I’m fat.” Her eyes are as wide as saucers. “Isn’t that the one thing you shouldn’t say to your girlfriend? Even I know this.” She stomps her feet in anger.
Fuck. How did this happen?
We were having fun. I was about to get her naked on the bed, and now she’s leaving the room, marching toward the balcony.
“Rose. Baby, wait.” I run after her. “You know I didn’t mean that. I got lost in the moment. And it just came out of my mouth.”
“Then why didn’t you say slim, fragile, or delicate? Why lush?” She shakes her head, her wet hair waving around.
Good question.
Think fast, Zander, if you want any chance at fixing this.
But holy hell, if only my brain would work.
Her anger is having an opposite effect on me.
Why are her simmering eyes and flailing hands such a turn-on?
“Don’t be angry, couch girl. You know I find you perfect.” I try to touch her, but she shifts away from me.
“Yes, now I know that you find my lush body very perfect.” She storms back into the room before shutting the balcony glass doors on my face, leaving me outside.
I try to follow her, but the doors won’t open. Did she just lock me out?
I can’t help but fucking smile like a lunatic, even in this situation. She locked me outside. After a fight. If this isn’t marriage, then I don’t know what is.
I would certainly count this as progress.
I wait a few minutes, knowing she’ll open the door eventually. She is my Rose, after all.
Minutes later, I’m still on the balcony, lying on the recliner, looking at the night sky filled with twinkling stars, when the glass door is pushed open. She walks to me, fidgeting from one foot to the other, seemingly confused about what to do. So, I decide for her.
I grab her hand and pull her into my arms. She falls on my chest and looks up with a worried gaze.