Page 114 of Once a Month

“You’re here,” she says.

“Where else would I be?” I ask, smiling at her as I hold the cabin door open for her.

Her dress is red tonight because she’s trying to kill me, apparently, but it’s not her usual, more flowing number. It’s tighter. It’s so tight that I think she is actually trying to kill me. She’s so damn beautiful, and she’s now walking into my open arms. I close the door behind her and pull her in for a long hug. She kisses my neck, and I have a moment where I picture us doing this for real: she comes home from work, and I greet her at the door like this.

“So, this is pretty nice, huh?” I ask, running my hands up and down her back, trying not to think about the vision of a life I don’t have in order to focus on the time I have with her tonight. “We get this all to ourselves, and no one will interrupt.”

“Just us?”

“My friends decided to go to the main party if that’s what you’re asking,” I say.

“Are you disappointed?” she asks.

“How could I be disappointed? I’m here with you. We have a beautiful fire going in this spacious cabin; there’s champagne and wine if you want. Plus, I snagged some chocolate-covered strawberries from the main cabin, and they brought us other stuff, too.”

She kisses me and says, “I’m really happy you’re dressed like you tonight.”

“I was hoping you would be,” I reply.

“You manage to make a t-shirt look sexy,” She runs her hands over my chest, perking up my nipples.

“Hey, I have an idea if you’re up for it,” I say.

“What’s that?” she asks.

“Well, we have a fire.” I nod to it. “And this is a fancy place. It turns out, they stock stuff in a minibar, but it’s unlocked. I checked with the boss, and she says it’s all fair game.”

“Okay…”

“They have stuff for s’mores,” I tell her.

“They do not,” She laughs.

“They do. Plus, there’s peanut butter. Want a peanut butter s’more?” I ask.

“Are you doing the cooking?”

“Like I can trust a fancy lady like you to make my s’more,” I tease her.

She laughs and says, “I can honestly say I’ve never made one, so you’re right to trust yourself more.”

“You’ve never made a s’more?” I ask, pulling back.

“Babe, I’ve never had a reason to make a s’more. We never went camping as a family, and I’m not exactly an outdoor girl if you haven’t noticed,” she says.

“I’m going to teach you how, then,”

I run off excitedly to the kitchen while she laughs at me. I grab what I need to get started. Then, I stop at the counter because I realize I haven’t gotten my girl a drink yet. I’m not sure if she wants wine or champagne, but I decide to take a chance on red – I’ve had it open and breathing since I got here anyway. I pour our glasses and walk one over to her. She smiles at me, which makes everything worth it.

“You watch. I’ll cook,” I say, kissing her.

“No problem,” she says. “You’re nice to watch.”

I smile at her and go to the fire with my supplies. It’s been a while since I’ve made smores, but they’re not exactly difficult. I get everything ready to go, turn around, and see that she’s made herself comfortable on the sofa.

“Come over here so I can show you,” I say, laughing a little.

“But your ass looks good in those jeans, and I have the perfect view.”

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