Cupping my jaw, he presses a kiss to my forehead. "That's my job—a privilege—and one I take seriously."
"These are the fluffiest robes I've ever worn." I beam, snuggling deeper into it while Wilder cooks our steaks, and I watch from the breakfast bar.
"They don't call it a luxury resort for nothin'." He grins. "Kinda cool to experience it as an adult, though. We usually camped out in the woods in tents and our trucks."
"I can see why couples come here. Gorgeous views, peaceful, and a romantic getaway with your partner."
"We always joked that it's the same model as the retreat, except ours focuses on families with kids, and theirs centers around couples only. Which, speakin' of, I have a couple's massage scheduled for us tomorrow before I have to go to my anger management class. Hope you don't mind I planned that."
My jaw's already on the floor before he finishes his sentence. "Are you kiddin'? That sounds amazin'."
"As long as they don't send a man to rub my wife, then it will be."
I roll my eyes, biting into a piece of the dark chocolate from the welcome basket. "Same goes for a woman rubbin' my husband, then."
"Say that again," he demands, his voice deeper than before.
"Which part?" I ask, confused.
"Where you called me your husband." He stalks over, turns my stool around so he can stand between my legs, and thencages me in with his arms against the counter behind me. "I wanna hear you call me that again."
"I shouldn't reward this caveman-like behavior..." I bite down on my lower lip when his gaze drops to my mouth.
He plucks my lip out, then rubs the pad of his thumb across it. "Please?"
"Well...since you asked sonicely," I taunt, bringing my hands up to his T-shirt and fisting the fabric to bring him closer. "I don't want another woman touchin'my husband."
His blue eyes darken and a raspy growl echoes from his throat before he slams his mouth down on mine. His tongue twists with mine, devouring me like he's waited his whole life to taste me.
The frying pan lid whistling grabs our attention and he rushes over to turn the burner down.
"Shit, I forgot about the steaks." He shakes his head, quickly flipping the meat. "You distracted me."
"Me? I was sittin' here mindin' my own business when you mauled me."
The side-eye he gives me makes me giggle.
I admire his shirtless back as he continues cooking, and even though I offer to help, he demands I stay put. Since he's not drinking, he told me to enjoy the champagne, so I pour myself a glass and drink it at the table while I wait.
"How many kids do you want?" I blurt when Wilder serves me my plate. A juicy steak with mushrooms and a baked potato stuffed with sour cream and cheese. I'm actually impressed with how well he did.
"Uh...maybe three."
"Boys or girls?" I cut into the meat and then dip it in the sauce before eating it.
"Doesn't matter to me, but one of each would be cool."
I nod as I finish chewing my food. "What kind of dog do you want?"
He furrows his brows, sticking his fork into a piece of meat. "I feel like I'm in a datin' interview."
"Well, kinda. Couples usually talk about this stuff during the datin' period and before they get married. Since we skipped all that, we're havin' it now."
"Okay...I think I'd like a Great Dane."
My eyes bulge out of my head. "Those are huge! Practically mini horses."
"I know. Big ole babies. What kind do you want?"