Page 113 of Method for Matrimony

He leaned in to kiss my head, stepping back so he could move around me to grab a plate.

“Don’t you dare!” I said, guessing his intention.

Kip ignored me. He got a serving spoon and started putting something that could only be described as burned slop onto his plate.

I gripped his wrist. “Seriously, dude. Sure, we might have our issues, but I really don’t want you to die. Plus, the police will get me in, like, a minute. Pregnant wife poisoning her husband is a slam dunk.”

He chuckled. “I’ve got a strong constitution. And this smells great.”

I let go of his wrist to put my hand on my hip. “The fact that you can say that with a straight face is seriously concerning to me.”

Kip kept eye contact with me as he grabbed a fork, got himself a large serving of slop, and put it in his mouth.

I winced watching him chew and swallow.

His expression didn’t change, but I swear his eyes were watering.

“Delicious,” he said, clearing his throat.

And then the fucker went for another bite.

“No!” I cried, lurching forward and snatching the plate from him. “I get it, you’re willing to do a lot of shit for me, but I will not witness that.”

Kip coughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I rolled my eyes, dumping the slop in the rubbish bin, wincing at the smell. Then I grabbed a beer from the fridge, opening it and relishing the crisp bitter scent coming from it before handing it to Kip.

“Wash your mouth out with that,” I instructed.

He took the beer and put it to his mouth for a long pull before grabbing me and yanking me in for a deep kiss.

I reveled in his warmth, his touch, his taste, tinged with the beer I’d started craving in this summer’s oppressive heat.

“How about I make us something else?” he offered against my mouth.

“But I was going to do something nice for you,” I moaned.

“You’re gonna do somethin’ nice for me… later,” he murmured, squeezing my ass.

My body went aflame with desire.

“Hmmm, I can do that,” I whispered.

He kissed me on the nose. “Good. Now let me cook my wife dinner so she can work up an appetite.”

I did just that.

And later, I did something nice for Kip that really felt like a gift for me.

kip

I enjoyed a cold and crisp beer while I watched my wife run around Rowan and Nora’s garden, chasing Ana.

She ran a little slower these days, and her steps were taken—thankfully—a lot more carefully. Granted, Ana had only just started walking, so she wasn’t exactly tearing through the garden. Her little legs were still unsteady, and she tumbled down often, getting up with Fiona’s help and a giggle.

Still, I watched Fiona’s every move, my limbs tight with worry. One wrong step, one dip in the grass, and she could fall over, hurt herself or the baby. The urge to yell out to her, tell her to stop running, was almost overwhelming.

But I kept my mouth glued shut because I already knew what would happen if I spoke. Fiona would scowl in my direction, tell me to fuck off, punctuate that with a hand gesture, and keep running around the fucking garden.

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