Page 113 of After All This Time

There are those dreamy ocean eyes I’ve succumbed to.

He studies my face, making his way to my lips. “You got a little pasta sauce on your face.”

I go to reach for my napkin, but he stops me and puts his hand on my arm.

“I got it.”

He swipes the pad of his thumb across the corner of my mouth, bringing it up to his lips. He inserts it into his mouth, sucking on it.

This man is eating the leftover pasta sauce he wiped off my mouth.

I have to look away, so I can catch my breath. I thread my fingers through tendrils of hair from my ponytail.

What the fuck was that? That was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my life.

“Are you malfunctioning over there?”

I turn my head back in his direction, collecting myself by taking a deep breath in and out. “I’m fine.”

Yeah, I’m the complete opposite of fine.

The urge I have to tell him to pick me up and throw me on the kitchen counter is real.

I sit criss-cross applesauce, realizing heat is spreading in between my thighs.

“You sure?”

I grin. “Uh-huh.”

He gets up, grabbing his bowl and mine along with our utensils. He walks over to the sink, turning it on and washing the dishes.

Noah’s done washing the dishes which probably took him twenty minutes to do. I would’ve been in here for a solid hour because I’m not skilled in that department.

I don’t know what it is about men and washing dishes, but I find it so attractive.

I look at the pan we used and it looks brand new. Everything is stacked perfectly in the drain board. The dishwasher is organized with plates, bowls, and other items in their own respective places.

God, I want to marry this guy.

He’s standing in front of the sink while I’m leaning against the island.

“Tell me a secret,” I say.

He whips his head around. “What?”

“How are you so good at washing dishes and organizing them?”

“I’ll tell you my secret for washing dishes if you teach me how to be a better cook. Do we have a deal, Princess?”

I stick out my hand in his direction, gesturing to him to shake it. He does, but he holds onto my hand for a bit longer than he has to.

And I let him.

“You know I could get used to this.”

“Used to what?” A sliver of a smile grows on my face.

His lips curve up, eyes lighting up like stars brightening the night sky.

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