Page 105 of Rules Of Engagement: St. Louis
“That’s marketing, not science.”
“It’s psychology. Happy chickens lay better eggs.”
I couldn’t stop laughing because she was serious, and the serious look in her eyes just made my amusement ignite.
Sunday morning, I woke up to the smell of bacon and the sound of Naomi humming in my kitchen. She stayed wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of shorts, and she knew that shit drove me wild.
“Good morning,” I said, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind.
“Good morning. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving.”
She’d set the table with coffee, orange juice, and a plate of perfectly golden pancakes. Real maple syrup, fresh berries, and bacon cooked how I liked it.
“This looks delicious,” I said, settling into my chair.
“It’s my mom’s recipe. She always said breakfast was the most important meal because it set the tone for the whole day.”
We ate for a few minutes, both of us still sleepy, sharing sections of the Sunday paper. It was peaceful, and that was how I wanted to spend every Sunday morning for the rest of my life.
“Christian?” Naomi’s voice was soft, almost hesitant.
“Yeah?”
“I love you, too.”
I looked up from the sports section, not sure I’d heard her correctly. “What?”
“Yesterday, when you said it while fixing the cabinet. I love you, too.”
The newspaper fell from my hands. “Naomi...”
“I’ve been thinking about it all night. About why it scared me so much to hear you say it.” She set down her fork, meeting my eyes directly. “It scared me because I knew it was true. Because I felt it, too, and wasn’t ready to admit it. Now I’m ready.” She smiled, and it was like the sun coming up. “I love you, Christian Valentine.”
I almost lost my breath. “I love you, too.”
“I know. You told me yesterday.”
“I’m telling you again.”
We stared at each other across the breakfast table, both of us grinning like idiots, and I was amazed at how far we’d come.
“So what now?” she asked.
“Now we eat pancakes and figure out the rest as we go.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too.”
We were cleaning up the dishes when Naomi’s phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID and smiled.
“It’s my cousin. Do you mind if I take this?”
“Go ahead.”
She answered on speaker while drying a plate. “Hey, Ebony.”
