Page 30 of Bartholomew
“It’s one of my favorite childhood secret snacks. I made it time and time again for my sisters. Popcorn, served hot with chocolate chips, tiny marshmallows, and a caramel drizzle,” I explained, pulling the popcorn from the microwave, and emptying the buttery goodness into the large bowl.
“Sweet, sweet diabetes, get in my belly,” Ollie groaned, making me nearly cackle with laughter. I adored this side of him. The carefree, easy version of himself that he was showing me. It made me relax; made me feel more at home.
“How do you feel about pets?” Ollie asked, his legs kicking restlessly as they hung off the counter’s edge.
“Pets? Like in general, or do I want pets?” I asked, needing a little clarification.
“I don’t know, both?” he answered, squirting a bit of caramel sauce onto his finger, and licking it off, far too sensually for me not to notice. I tried not to think of licking that caramel off of him. Damn, there was that blush.
“I like pets. But I’m not much for lizards or insects as pets,” I answered, scrunching my nose up at the thought of creepy-crawlies in aquariums around the house. “Yeah, that’s not for me.”
“Me either,” he admitted, nabbing a few chocolate chips from the package and munching on them next.
“Keep your hands out of this, Bartholomew Temple, or you’re going to get it,” I sassed.
“Ooh, feisty. I like it,” he chuckled, his eyebrows waggling at me. “But I agree. I’m a dog person. I really want a dalmatian someday. Or a golden retriever. A big, loving dog that I can take on walks.” The image played in my mind and brought a smile to my face.
“What’s the worst fight you and your brothers ever got into?” I asked, needing to change the subject away from anything that made me imagine that future with him. Or that made me imagine caramel sauce drizzled over places it perhaps ought not be.
“Oh hell, that’s a tough one. Do you mean worst physical fight? Or worst fight in general?” Ollie asked, reaching for the popcorn. I smacked the back of his questing hand, earning myself quite the look on his handsome face.
“Hands to yourself, Mister,” I warned. I didn’t miss the way his eyes heated as he looked at me. That was unexpected, but he seemed to shake it off quickly.
“You choose.” I shrugged nonchalantly. I really just wanted to hear him talk more about his life. I wanted to know him better.
“The biggest physical fight we ever got into was between Levi and Malachi. Those two are close, granted we all are. But those two run hot and cold. One day they are best friends, the next they are throwing punches and rolling around trying to destroy one another,” he chuckled, regaling me with his story. “One time, Malachi and Levi had snuck off to steal berries from Elder River’s garden. They had the perfect rouse and everything. I guess when they got home, Mother could tell that they were lying. Levi lied through his teeth like he was an award-winning actor. Malachi, on the other hand, folded like a piece of paper, getting them both into trouble. That night, Levi called a duel — a full-blown duel — with Malachi in the backyard. The fight was epic. We were all pretty young, but it’s still one of my favorite stories.”
I could just picture the lot of them, getting into shenanigans time and time again. What a headache for their poor mother.
“As far as fights, there was one that comes to mind, but that’s a story for another time. It involves two brothers fighting over a girl,” he explained, giving me a salacious look.
“What is something you fantasized about your post wedding life?” Ollie’s question took me by surprise. The first thought that came to my mind was a rather risque one, so I quickly tried to think of something more normal. “Oh, no. There’s something burning in that brain of yours and I simply must know what it is,” he teased. The fact that he could read me so well made me feel somewhat off kilter, but not exactly in a bad way.
“It’s a little… um…” I trailed off.
“A little dirty?” he teased, his voice a little deeper and richer.
“Perhaps,” I teased.
“Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!” he exclaimed, looking more like an excited child than the sexy, sensual adult man he actually was. His outburst broke the tension within me, allowing me to answer with a little more confidence.
“I fantasized about a lot of things. About being married to someone who truly cared for me. Of spending the day doing fun outings, and the evenings reading together or just sharing things we cared about. I also may have, perhaps, fantasized about the more carnal nature of my marriage being… well, carnal.” That was all I was willing to say.
“I want details, woman,” he demanded, making me laugh.
“That’s all you’re getting,” I teased right back. “Your turn. What’s your biggest flaw?”
“Easy, I don’t take things seriously enough sometimes,” he answered, taking a handful of the now completed loaded popcorn and popping it into his mouth. “Sweet, merciful sky-daddy, this is good!” he groaned obscenely.
“I’m glad you like it,” I said, taking a handful for myself.
“What has been your favorite moment of our marriage so far?” Now that question I could answer with ease.
“Tonight. Tonight has been my favorite part,” I answered honestly, not caring a lick that my blush was moving down my face again. It was the truth. And I would have said it a million times again, just to see that sheer happiness on his face. Twenty questions was a success. As was the loaded popcorn. Mustn’t forget the loaded popcorn.
CHAPTER7
BARTHOLOMEW
