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“This is how my dad always did it. I promise it’ll work out in the end.” Steam billows out of the metal bowl and disperses in the air. “Do you have the egg mixture ready?”

I crack my last egg as she says to stir to combine with parmesan and parsley. The counter looks like a warzone since I’m not particularly good at keeping things tidy.

“Got it right here.”

She grabs it from me and pours it over the pasta now in the skillet resting on the stove with cooked bacon. Her arm works furiously stirring it around until it’s all evenly coated and the egg is cooked within the heat of the bacon grease and fresh pasta.

“Can you hand me the heavy cream? It’s time to add that, too.”

Her tongue sticks out adorably in concentration. I’m not sure she’s even aware she’s doing it.

I grab the cream and pass it over. She pours it into the mixture and gets back to stirring. I’d take over and help but I’m enjoying watching her way too much for that.

“This smells delicious.” I sneak behind Celine and wrap my arms around her middle. Her dark berry scent is delectable, and I can’t help but nuzzle her neck. The beating pulse of her heart accelerates, tempting me to do something I know she’s not ready for. “My little chef.”

“Don’t say that before you’ve tried it.” Her back settles into my chest. “You might think it’s terrible.”

“Never,” I scoff.

I kiss Celine’s cheek before letting go and grabbing the now finished peas from the microwave. Out of my peripheral I see her rub the spot my lips left with a small smile.

Cute.

“Do you want these added in too?” I pull a spoon out of a drawer.

“Bring them over to the island and we can add however much we want to our bowls.” Celine shuts off the stove top and sets the finished pasta skillet on the waiting potholder.

Our placemats sit ready with plates and silverware. We each dish up a portion of the carbonara and dig in.

Creamy sauce sticks to the noodles and I spear a large portion on my fork. Shoving the enormous bite into my mouth, I’m shocked at the taste. It’s delicious and the wait was well worth it, not that I’m complaining about spending time with Celine.

Celine’s pink tongue darts around her pasta and the moan she lets out is downright sinful. I feel my cock tightening in my pants. I close my eyes, counting to ten in an effort to calm myself.

We don’t talk much as dinner goes on, the delicious food consuming our focus. I do find out a few more of her favorite things by asking silly questions simply because I can’t help myself. I fill my plate with thirds while Celine finishes off seconds. By the time we’re done we’re both nursing a food baby and reluctant to clean up our mess. I haven’t eaten that much human food in one go in a long time.

“My dad always said a good cook cleans as he cooks but we have not heeded that advice, have we?” Celine laughs and pats her flat stomach as we both face the mess.

I eye her hand on her stomach, thinking about what she might look one day round with my child.

“First to clean their dishes wins,” I blurt out to derail my thoughts and rush to the sink.

“Wha—” Celine sputters, but wastes no time in bumping me out of the way.

I could easily win the challenge put forth, but I find I don’t want to. Seeing the competitive gleam in her eye is a welcome sight after everything. She’s tried to hide it well, but I’ve seen the disquiet within her brown eyes. She’s more shaken up over the break-in than she wants to admit.

“Done!” she shouts triumphantly. “What do I win?”

Truth to be told I hadn’t thought that far ahead and follow my gut.

I plant a kiss on her nose and enjoy the shock that floods her features.

“That’s it?” Celine breathes, the air in the room suddenly getting sucked out.

“I’ve wanted to do it since you poured the noodles into the pot,” I admit.

“Oh.” She rocks back on her heels before seeming to come to a decision. “Kind of a lousy prize. I think you can do better.”

I’m shocked at my little vixen’s boldness, but I don’t have to be told twice.