hot as hell in bed and that regardless of the costume debacles in the bedroom, he plays right along.
The table is set, and everything is ready when the two walk in. My heart swells at the sight of them, and I see Raff quickly try to hide the fact he’d brought takeout home. Nathaniel also moving in my line of vision as he drops it in the hall.
I shake my head. “You two.”
“We just thought you were working and—”
“Well, bring it in. There’s probably room in the fridge, no need to waste food.”
Raff smiles and nods toward the stairs. “Hit the shower first, son.”
“But, Dad, do you smell that?”
“Barely, your sweat is—”
“Fine,” he sighs and hurries toward the stairs.
Takeout bag in his hand, and his other behind his back, he walks toward me with caution.
“Don’t do that,” I whisper.
“Do what?” he asks, setting the bag on the Island.
“Act like you have to tiptoe around me.” I shrug. “I love you.”
“I know that.” He smiles gently as he grips the back of my head and pulls it close so he can kiss the top. “And I love you deeper than I think you know.”
Smiling, I push at his chest. “I’m aware how deep your love goes.”
His chest vibrates in a silent chuckle, and he steps back, bringing his hand in front of him. “For you.”
I take the flowers and hold them under my nose. “I think I was jealous when you gave these to Grams.”
“Well, then, I can promise you, Nikki Winterfield. If I ever buy flowers for another woman, for any occasion, you’ll get them, too.”
I set the flowers on the island and wrap my arms around his hard body. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
He squeezes me tight and sighs, “I ask myself that same question every day.”
Then he pinches me lightly, and I laugh.
“We still in love?” he asks.
“Gonna go with yes.”
“Thank God.”
“Can we eat now?” Nathaniel says, causing me to jump.
“Did you even shower?” Raff scratches the back of his neck.
“Yes, a quick one, and I’m starved.”
Sitting around the table with them, my family, I am so at peace. It’s quickly become my favorite part of the day.
“Can you pass the garlic bread?” Nathaniel brings the large glass of milk to his lips as I pull apart the loaf, handing him another buttery roll. “Sooooooo good,” he grumbles, putting down the glass and taking a giant bite.
I’m not a fancy chef, but I know the food I make tastes good. The boys inhale my spaghetti and creamy meat sauce, and not for the first time I’m relieved Raff plated my food before they started eating.
I’ve tried the “just make more” tactic, but regardless of how much I make, they finish it.
“This is my favorite dish.” Raff smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He uses some crust from the bread to clean up the chunky sauce in his bowl.
“Oh,” Nathaniel chimes in. “For me, it’s between this, the sticky honey ribs, and the cheese lasagna.” He takes another big bite.
“Raff, do we have wine for tonight?” Over the last few weeks, we’ve been doing wine tasting every Monday and Friday. We use the excuse that it’s for the bar, but it’s become something fun between us, a date of sorts, without leaving our home.
“Yeah, I picked up something for us earlier.” He stands up, walks across the room, and opens the refrigerator, taking out a bottle before taking the opener from the drawer.
He grabs two wine glasses before heading back to the table and sitting down. “Whispering Angel.”
“Festive.”
“Troubled Turkey would be more holiday-appropriate.” Nathaniel laughs at his own joke.
“Good one.” I smile at him, and he gives me a high-five.
Raff opens the bottle expertly before pouring it for me. I take a sip and hum. “I think this is the best one yet. I bet our Thanksgiving guests will love it, too.”
He takes a sip. “I agree.” He looks down, his phone buzzing, and answers it. “Hello. Uh, huh? Sure.” He stands, putting his napkin on the table, annoyance evident as he stands. He gives me a quick kiss on top of the head. “I need to deal with this.”
“Of course.”
“Bet it’s Steakhouse on Main. That’s like his problem child.” Nate shakes his head.
“Always giving me trouble.” Raff squeezes his shoulder before walking out.
“No problem. I’ll, um, leave our wine glasses in the frig for when you get back?” My voice comes out more like a question than a comment.
He stops and looks back at