Method

She keeps her tone upbeat. “We’ll get to Spain. Besides, Rayo is a Spanish surname. Looks like you’re bringing a little Spanish to me.”

I scoop her into my arms. “Yeah, well, variety is the spice of life.”

“Lucky me,” she says as she looks down at our position. “This is familiar,” she says, wrapping her hands around my neck and pressing her forehead to mine. “Do you remember scooping me up like this on my porch?”

“Of course.”

“Well, you forget a lot,” she scorns.

“I haven’t forgotten that,” I assure her, stealing a kiss before I carry her up the stairs. “Now, who wants some more of last year’s anniversary present?”

“Lucas,” Mila whispers as she trails the pads of her fingers down m

y back. “You awake?”

“Yes. What’s up, baby?”

In response, she slowly traces the first line of an X and draws out the word, “Criiiissss.”

“No, you don’t.” I jerk against the mattress to dodge her fingers. “You know that creeps me out.”

She giggles, pulling me closer before again, drawing a finger diagonally across my back, “cross,” and then punctuates her next three words with dots down the middle, “ap-ple sauce.”

“Cut it out, woman,” I say as she traps me with her leg. “Behave.”

“Fine.”

When she bumps her closed fist against my head to recite the rest of the absurd nursery rhyme/medieval massage, I charge. She yelps when I pin her easily beneath me and grin down at her. “You are such a weirdo. Where did you learn that anyway?”

“From a friend, I think, a sleepover,” she says, smiling up at me, breathless. “I don’t understand why that drives you nuts.”

“But you do it to continually torture me anyway.”

She lifts a shoulder while still in my hold. “Of course.”

“Apparently, I didn’t do a good enough job of wearing you out,” I mutter before bending to suck on her neck.

“You did fine,” she says, gripping my hair and lifting her chin to allow more access.

“Fine,” I repeat in a monotone voice, lifting my head and narrowing my eyes. “What the hell, wife? If I had recorded your insults today, it would be grounds for divorce.”

“You would miss me,” she sasses.

“But at least I wouldn’t have to deal with the verbal abuse.”

“You married this mouth and me.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Lucas!” she scolds just before I kiss her the way she likes it. When I pull away, her face is solemn and her eyes fill with apprehension.

“You get both of us, forever.”

I nod. “Can’t live without either.”

“Where you go, I go…right?”

I slowly shake my head.