Make You Mine

“Perfect.” He steps back, and I have to agree.

The tee is just snug enough to show off his muscles, and I’m not sure those sweatpants can be legal the way his junk swings low in them.

“You’d better stop looking at me like that.” He chuckles, catching my chin and kissing me quickly on the lips. “I’m going to see what’s left here to eat.”

“I ordered some groceries earlier today. They should have been delivered.”

He heads out of the bedroom, and I run back to grab a pair of micro cutoffs before following him downstairs. I straighten the bed and put the towels on the rack, and when I arrive in the kitchen, he’s opened a bottle of red wine and poured two glasses.

“I see you found them.”

A loaf of bread is on the counter, and he’s in the refrigerator, pulling out a block of cheese and butter.

“This all seems pretty fresh.”

“Yeah, I was saying they were delivered earlier today.”

He nods, clicking on the stovetop. “Smart.”

I lean against the counter. The wine is in my hand, and I take a sip, nodding at the flavor. “It’s good, ripe cherries.”

He has four pieces of bread arranged in a square and quickly covers them with thick slices of cheese. I walk over to the speaker and turn on the music. It’s Marvin Gaye, and he glances up, giving me a sly smile before arranging our food in the frying pan.

The delicious aroma of warm butter and melting cheese makes my stomach growl, and I take another sip of wine. It’s so homey and warm, watching him make us supper. I have so many questions to ask him, so much I want to know, but tonight we’re taking it slow.

“Tell me about Dover.” I sit on the edge of the bar, watching him work. “Is it pretty? I’ve never been.”

He leans down to check the food, and his dark hair falls over his brow. I want to curl it around my finger. He straightens and our eyes meet. It makes my stomach flutter.

“I guess. It’s historic, old.” He shrugs and uses the

spatula to flip the sandwiches. “We weren’t really in the city proper. Their place is a little north, on the coast.”

“It sounds pretty.”

“I didn’t get around much. I was mostly at the hospital.”

“Oh.” I let the questions go.

I want to let him open to me in his own time. Now it feels like I was digging into his past. He scoops the sandwiches onto a plate and cuts them in half. Then he switches off the heat, moving the cooking utensils into the sink.

I’m waiting, sitting on the bar when he walks over to me, smiling and holding the plate. “See what you think.”

He sets the plate beside me, and I lift a hot, drippy triangle of bread. He does the same. We both take careful bites from the corners, and my mouth fills with tangy, warm, comforting grilled cheese.

I make a little groan as I drop the hot slice on the plate again. “It’s so good!”

He nods, grinning, then sets his piece on the plate again, stepping between my legs and wrapping his arms around my waist. It’s so sudden and unexpected, my breath catches. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold him.

Our chests are together, and I can feel his heart beating strong. It’s only a momentary hug. He steps away, smiling into my eyes as he lets me go and picks up his sandwich again.

I feel a little wobbly from his display of affection. “What was that for?”

He takes another, bigger bite. “Just needed to feel you in my arms again.”

My entire body melts at his words, at his touch. I’m a pillar of sensation, waiting for another hit of my favorite drug. It’s so seductive.

Al Green sings softly in the background about staying together, and Gray finishes his sandwich in three bites. He takes a long sip of wine, and puts the glass down.