He arched one perfect eyebrow that basically said I know your game and leaned back in his seat.
“Would you like to start?”
I pushed the muffins in front of him. Lemon week was just for him, tart and sweet, just like someone I knew. “Would you like to taste these? I baked them.”
“You can’t trick me with pastries, Rose. I’ll take them with me when I leave.”
I smiled. “I would never, Mr. Hawthorne. I’m appalled that you’d even think I’d do something like that. Please go on then. I was just trying to be nice to my husband.”
“Right. So, tell me, what kind of marriage do you want for the next five years?”
“Only five? I get the boot after that?”
“I thought it would be healthier to sit down every five years and plan for the next five years.”
God, it was a struggle not to get up and pull him to the back. He looked so devastatingly handsome and serious that I was having trouble keeping a straight face.
“How do you know I won’t divorce you in the next five years?
“You’re not going to divorce me,” he said, dismissing the idea.
“Says who?”
“I do. If you didn’t divorce me after everything that happened, you’re not gonna get rid of me for something small and stupid I’ll most likely end up doing at some point.”
“I’ll divorce you in a heartbeat if you cheat on me.”
“Since that’s not a possibility, let’s talk about our five-year plans.”
“No to leaving socks around the house. As small as that sounds, it’d drive me crazy, and that’s how the beginning of the end starts. No clothes on the floor, and no chewing your food with your mouth open.”
“Can you take this more seriously?”
I frowned at him. “I am,” I stressed.
“Have you ever seen me leave my socks around? My clothes?”
“No. I’m just telling you so you won’t start.”
“Can we get back to the plan?”
“Are you not listening to me? Those things are part of the plan. You can’t cheat, you can’t start leaving your socks or clothes around, and you can’t chew your food with your mouth open. The sound drives me insane.”
“Those are your relationship plans for the next five years?”
“We’re just getting started. Also, why does it have to be just my plans? You tell me what you want for the next five years, too.”
“I just need you to stay with me, so that means I need to learn what you want.”
“I’m flattered, but no. That’s not how a marriage works. I’m pretty easygoing. I want love and loyalty, and for you to talk to me.”
“Rose, you’re going to have to be more specific. I told you, you have a million things to say about our marriage all the time. Start with one of them. Tell me about the marriage you wanted to have.”
“Fine.” I nodded carefully. “I want a date night every week. If we’re swamped with work, we can do it at home, but I need those few hours of just you and me without anything else getting in the way.
“Okay. I can do that.”
“Aren’t you supposed to take notes?” I asked, reaching for my tea again.
He tapped a finger to his head, his lips smiling.
“Okay. We’ll see. Your turn.”
“I want you to come over for lunch.”
“To the office?”
“Yes.”
“For sex? Are we allowed to have office sex?”
He let out a big breath. “Rose.”
I made a face. “What? It’s a legit question.”
Obviously, he didn’t think so from the way he shook his head at me.
He was in the process of drinking his coffee, but he stopped and put the mug back down on the table.
I smiled. So he was thinking about it, too.
“Maybe not in the office since it’s all glass, but I’ll take care of it.”
I was sure he would find a way. I laughed. “Doing it at the office isn’t essential, but I’d love to come over for lunch. Can I ask why?”
“I like spending time with you, and I like the idea of you coming to my office to have lunch. I like it when people see me with you.”
I dragged my seat a little closer to him, my heart happy.
“Done. My turn: I want spooning. If every night isn’t possible, I want it most nights.”
“This isn’t something you need to mention, Rose.”
“I’m sure there will be nights where hugging me in bed will be the last thing on your mind, especially after a long and draining day of work, so I’m just putting it out there. If we start to have those kinds of nights too much, you need to make an effort not to make it a permanent thing. Even if we argue—and I know I told you this before, but it bears repeating—I want to be the kind of couple who wipes the slate clean when they go to bed. Your turn.”