hand over the dining room table as she walked, and Jameson followed her into the kitchen.
She paled, her smile vanishing as her gaze jumped from the oven to the small table, and over the counters. Horror emanated from every line of her face.
“What’s wrong?” His stomach pitched. Was it missing something? Shit. He should have waited for something better.
She turned to face him, then met his gaze with wide eyes. “This might not be the most opportune time to tell you, but I can’t cook.”
He blinked. “You can’t cook,” he repeated slowly, just to be sure he’d heard her right.
She shook her head. “Not a thing. I’m sure I could figure out how to turn the stove on, but not much else.”
“Okay. But the kitchen is acceptable?” He tried to equate the angst in her eyes to her confession and came up short.
“Of course!” She nodded. “It’s lovely. I’m just not sure what to do with it. I never learned to cook at home, and it’s been the officers’ mess since then.” She tugged her lower lip between her teeth.
The relief was so sharp and sweet that he couldn’t help but laugh as he wrapped his arms around her. “Oh, Scarlett, my Scarlett.” He kissed the top of her head and breathed in her scent. “I’m not saying I can put on a five-course meal, but if I can fry up eggs and bacon over a campfire, I think I’ll be able to keep us fed while we figure it out.”
“If we could even get real eggs,” she muttered as her arms wrapped around his waist.
“Very true.” As a pilot, a diet of eggs and bacon bettered his chances of surviving a water landing and were shoved at him with such regularity that he’d nearly forgotten how rare they were.
“I’ve learned to press my own clothing over the last year, and do some wash, but not much else in the domestic sense of things,” she said into his chest. “I’m afraid you may have gotten a bad deal by marrying me.”
He tilted her chin and kissed her gently. “I got more than I could have dreamed of by marrying you. We’ll figure everything else out together.”
Together. Her chest ached with how much she loved him. “Show me the rest of the house.”
He took her hand and led her up the small staircase to the second floor. “The bathroom,” he said as he motioned through the open doorway to the functional space, then opened the door to the right of it. “The landlord called this a box room, but I’m not really sure what he meant, since it’s more of a rectangle.”
Scarlett laughed, taking in the smaller, vacant bedroom. “It’s just a second, smaller bedroom.” The space would only accommodate a single bed and dresser…or a crib. “It’s for a child…” Her voice trailed off.
Jameson’s eyes locked with hers, flaring slightly. “Do you want that? Children?”
Her heart stuttered. “I hadn’t…” She cleared her throat and tried again. “If you’re asking if I want children now, the answer is no. There are too many uncertainties at the moment, and they would be coming into a world where we couldn’t guarantee their safety.” Children had been evacuated from nearly every military target—including London—and just the thought of losing a child to a bombing raid was more than she could bear.
“I agree.” His thumb caressed the back of her hand reassuringly, but worry lined the space between his eyebrows.
She lifted her hand to his cheek. “But if you’re asking if I want your children someday, then my answer is emphatically yes.” There would be nothing better than a green-eyed little girl, or a boy with his smile when this was all said and done.
“After the war.” He tilted his head and kissed the center of her palm, sending a tingling jolt of pleasure down her arm.
“After the war,” she whispered, adding it to the ever-growing list of things to be accomplished at a later date she wasn’t sure would ever come.
“But you know there’s always a chance, right?” The muscle in his jaw flexed.
“I do.” Her fingers trailed down his neck. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take if it means I get to touch you.” She followed the line of his collar past his knotted tie and down to the first button of his jacket.
His eyes darkened as he palmed her waist, tugging her closer. “I’ve been waiting my entire life to touch you.”
“There’s one more room to show me,” she murmured. The