Jake held up a bag of instant potatoes to show me.
“Jake want ’tatoes, Mama!”
“Chicken and mashed potatoes it is.”
“What can I do to help?”
I wanted to propose he occupy Jake while I prepared dinner, but I worried his “time with little kids” meter might be pegged. Instead, I suggested, “Can you see what vegetables you have for another side?” while I fished the tablet from my purse and waved it at Jake. My son took it and ran to the adjoining family room to situate himself on the couch.
I didn’t even have to set the game up for him, he knew exactly how to get it started. That’s how tech-savvy kids were these days.
He wasn’t able to use the potty consistently, but he knew how to operate technology.
I couldn’t decide if his generation was doomed or advanced.
Gabe stepped out of the pantry holding a can of green beans as I pulled a chicken packet from the freezer.
I didn’t love defrosting chicken in the microwave, but when you work all day, some things had to be compromised.
“What else can I do? And I swear if you tell me to open the can and cook them, we’re going to have a problem.”
“Well, how else are we supposed to eat them?” I teased.
He came up behind me and crowded me into the counter with his hands on my hips. Nuzzling my neck, he murmured, “I can do a lot more than open a can of green beans.”
Oh, I know you can.
“Put me to work, sweetheart.”
“You worked all day, then went to my house and worked some more, putting up cabinets. You deserve a break.”
“You worked all day, too. Maybe we should order takeout.”
“Ilikecooking, and honestly, there’s not much you can do. I mean, it’s thawing chicken in the microwave then baking it in the oven. The mashed potatoes are instant, and the green beans are from a can. It’s not a two-person job.”
He laid a soft kiss on my neck and subtly ground his cock against my ass while he cupped my boobs in his hands.
“Good, then you won’t mind if I distract you.”
I decided to fight fire with fire.
“You should probably wait until later. I brought the lingerie.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from grinning when his fingers dug into my hipbones, and he softly moaned in my ear, “Fuuuuuck.”
I loved having that effect on him. It made me feel beautiful, and maybe a little powerful, too.
****
Gabe
I hadn’t been able to keep my hands off Gretchen as she prepared dinner.
I knew I was getting in her way, yet I couldn’t find it in me to care. Gretchen Kelly flitting around my kitchen like a domestic goddess who belonged there was my weakness.
But Gretchen Kelly in yoga pants? My kryptonite.
Imagining ripping lingerie off her body later? Quite possibly the death of me.