you see them now?”
“Oh, yeah, every now and then. I mean they love us, gave us everything we wanted, pretty much—outside of their time. They’d love you.” Shit, I didn’t mean to put it that way. “Not that we’re going to tell them we’re married or anything. No point in that. I don’t need a trust fund.” She winces and I say, “That’s not coming out right, Kinsley.”
“It’s fine,” she says and puts her hand on my chest. “I get it. You’re right. There is no sense involving them in this sham of a marriage.” She blinks and her brow pulls together when she asks, “What did you mean they gave you everything you wanted, pretty much?”
Wanting to put a smile back on her face again, I say, “Don’t tell anyone, but when I was young, I secretly wanted an Easy Bake Oven.”
She smiles. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.” I angle my head, take in her expression. “Do you think that’s strange?”
“No. I don’t. I think it’s great. You know Bobby Flay had one growing up, right?”
“No, I didn’t. But I dig it.”
“Did you ever ask for one?”
“My parents put me in hockey, they put Nina in figure skating. Very gender defined roles. I just knew it would be frowned upon if I asked for what they would consider a ‘girl’s’ toy. Sad, but true. That’s how it was in their generation. Change is slow, but it’s coming.”
“My son is getting an easy bake oven, and my daughter is getting a hockey stick,” she says with a tip of her chin.
“This coming from the anti-marriage girl?”
She looks at her ring. “A little too late for that isn’t it?”
I brush the back of my knuckles over her cheek. “It’s never too late for anything, Kins.”
She throws her hands up in the air. “Parents,” she teases, lightening the mood. “They sure know how to do a number on us.”
She’s not wrong. “Do you think your parents believed we were legit?”
“They saw the ring, and Mom wants to throw a party so I think they believed us. What’s not to believe, we really are married.”
“Okay, let’s get moving.” I bend to give her a fast kiss, but it grows, expands, blossoms into something deeper, something warm and affectionate. We both take a fast breath when we part, and I say, “If we don’t go now, I’m going to toss you onto that bed and have my way with you.”
Passion and indecision dances in her eyes. “Can I have a raincheck?”
“Kiss me like that again and you can have anything you want,” I say.
“Here I thought a way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, she shakes her head. “Not that I’m looking for your heart, Cason. What I meant to say—”
I put my finger to her lush lips. “It’s fine, now let’s get moving.”
“Right,” she says. “I’m going to have a fast shower.”
“I’ll put on the coffee.”
I find my clothes and dress as she hurries to the shower. Downstairs I get the coffee going and pull my phone from my pants. I do a quick search on the property she’s interested in and make sure she’s not coming down the stairs when I make a call. I want to surprise her with this.
“I’m all set,” she says. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She eyes my phone as I turn from her, not wanting her to hear the tail end of my conversation.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I say to the manager of the building. I end the call and shove the phone in my pocket.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“Fine.”
She jerks her thumb toward the door. “Do you have somewhere to be?”
“Yeah, my place so I can shower quickly and change.”
She hesitates for a second, a frown on her face, and I get it. Her douchebag ex walked out on her, and left her a little broken. But I’m not going anywhere. Not for the rest of the month, anyway.
“C’mon,” I say and capture her hand.
Forty minutes later, after a fast stop at the market to get all her fresh ingredients, we’re inside the tight quarters of her food truck. I kind of like the way we keep bumping into one another.
“So this is what it’s like back here.”
She grins. “Hot, tight, and slippery—”
I groan to cut her off and she closes her mouth and gives me the side eye. “Stop, you’re turning me on,” I say and adjust my cock in my jeans.
She laughs and puts her