Page 122 of Fighting For Light
“Then we would have to skip the beautiful dinner you made us,” she says.
“I can live with that,” I mutter.
She steps closer to me and chucks my chin with her fingers. “I want to know what you made.”
I kiss her briefly and lean back. “You’re beautiful,mi amor.”
She blushes, and I kiss each tinged cheek. Then I clear my throat and open the door.
“Bienvenue senora Coldwell a la cocina Kai,”welcome Mrs. Coldwell to Kai’s Kitchen, I tell her, gesturing for her to step outside.
She gasps and looks at me over her shoulder. “This is beautiful,” she says, taking a second.
“I’m glad you like it, baby.” I hurry around to pull the chair out for her. “Okay, hold on. I have to go get the first course.”
“There are multiple courses?” she asks, surprised.
I nod and run back into the house. I set our salads on the table and sit across from her.
“I hope you’re hungry.” My chest feels light as I take in the sight of my wife.
“I didn’t eat much. Your Mom gave me five minutes to find an apple before she plowed into the timing for the after-party. And, yes, you might be thinking it was called a reception. You would be right, typically, but what she has planned is a full-scale after-party, in my opinion.”
“That should be interesting. I have to admit, I loved our little party with just the family. But at least you’ll have your mom there this time.”
“Yeah, when I called to tell her everything, she was more upset she didn’t know I was pregnant instead of married. In fact, she wasn’t surprised at all that you and I got married.”
“Did you tell her I’m not—“ I cough, choking on the food. I don’t like saying it out loud, but the fewer people who know, the better.
She shakes her head and takes a drink of her water.
“No, as far as she’s concerned, you knocked me up and married me in a version of a shotgun wedding.”
I grin and lift my shoulder. “If you weren’t already pregnant, you definitely would be by now.”
She bites her lower lip.
“You’re sodirty,“ she says, chastising me.
I wink and lean in. “I’m absolutely filthy, Cordelia,” I whisper, even though there is no one to hear us.
She licks her lips, and her eyes flare with interest.
“Okay, next course,” I say, shaking the desire from my mind.
She clears her throat as I grab her plate and walk them back into the house.
I come out with our steak and the sides and set the plate in front of her.
“My mouth is watering just looking at it. Maybe you should cook dinner more often,” she says.
“I figure I should start practicing at this point.”
“Such a good husband and father. What more could I ask for?”
“So much more, Cordi and I’ll get it for you, too.”
Cordi cuts the steak and slips it past her lips. “Delicioso,“ she says in a bad Spanish accent.
