“Can I help?” I asked.
“Can you grab one of those big plates?” she asked, pointing to a cabinet. I opened it and realized the platters were on the second shelf.
Sighing, I started climbing on the counter.
“What are you doing?” Ryan asked, a block of cheese in one hand.
“Getting the platter,” I said, pulling it out and then setting it gently down on the counter.
“Can I get an assist?” I asked, holding my arms out.
Ryan shook her head, but she came over and picked me up off the counter, but she didn’t set me down right away.
I ran my fingers through her still-damp hair and kissed her as she held me.
“Thanks,” I said in between kisses.
“You’re welcome,” she said, finally setting me down and grabbing the platter.
I leaned on the counter as she made a snack plate for us with different kinds of cheese and crackers and dried cherries and blood oranges and pistachios.
“Would you like some tea?” she asked.
“Absolutely.”
Ryan filled the kettle and this time I was able to reach both the mugs and the selection of tea.
“Here, I got some local honey,” she said, handing me a glass bottle. I found the spoons and made up my cup.
“Honey for you?” I asked.
“Please,” she said.
Ryan carried the platter and I took charge of the tea as we went back to the bedroom.
“I would eventually like to see the rest of the house, but this is fine for now,” I said as we settled in the sitting area of the main bedroom.
Ryan turned on the fireplace and even though it was June, I was all for the cozy vibes.
She set the platter between us and I dragged the second chair closer to hers.
“That’s better,” I said, reaching for my tea and cradling it in my hands.
“What did your parents say about you staying with me?” she asked.
“I have no idea. I sent the message and put it on silent and that was that. I’ll deal with that tomorrow,” I said, making a face. At least I didn’t have to work. That was a huge relief. Having to drag my ass to the pottery shop and do a full day would have been pretty miserable.
“You could have breakfast with me, prolong the inevitable for a little bit,” she said, setting a slice of cheese on a cracker.
“Mmm, depends on what we’re having,” I said. “If you’re only going to microwave a frozen burrito, then I’d have to think about that. If you’re making me pancakes from scratch with bacon and fresh fruit, then I’d be more likely to stick around.”
“What if I make you a microwaved burrito after I let you sit on my face?” she asked, and I almost slid right out of my chair.
“Oh, well, that would definitely be something to consider,” I said, suddenly sweating in the robe.
Ryan laughed softly. “I can make you pancakes, Everly.”
I grabbed an orange segment and popped it into my mouth. “Pancakes are my favorite.”