Forever (This #5) Read Online Free Page A

dancing at the wedding? The way your hand trembles when it’s in mine? The way I bet your face is on fire right now just hearing these words?”
    “I have to go.”
    “Don’t.”
    Silence.
    “Goodbye, Joe.”

My last exam didn’t start until late afternoon. It’s already dark, and while I know we’re in a safe community, I hate pulling into our driveway alone. I push the button on the garage door opener, and I’m pleasantly surprised to see Bradley’s car parked in his spot. Pulling in beside his, I can’t wait to get inside, shed all these excess layers of warm clothes, and start making our holiday traditions. It’s the weekend, but it’s also the start of my winter break.
    Even though we were together last year for Christmas, that was different. We’d not even made love. I turn the key, then open the door. Immediately, I inhale the aromas of garlic, tomato, and oregano. “Mmm. Smells like Italy in here.”
    I hang my keychain in the designated spot on the wall. Bradley had been quick to install a hook for them after several scavenger hunts trying to trace their last location. He’d always say, “If you put them where they belong, you wouldn’t lose them.”
    Of course, my retort was perfect. “If they had a place, I’d put them there. But where exactly is their home anyway?”
    The last time he pushed me against the wall, thrusting his narrow hips into mine, then kissed me as if his life depended on it. Bradley pulled away, gasping for air in the best of ways. He smirked. “They’ll have a home tomorrow, smarty-pants.”
    The next day, when I walked in from the garage, as promised, there were two beautiful, ornate pewter hooks that said His and Hers by the door.
    I’m brought back to reality by his deep, sexy voice. “How was your exam?”
    My lips curve into a smile. It’s the little things: the hooks and the cooking. My heart has been in this perpetual state of bliss, and I hope it never ends. “Feel pretty good about it.” I kick my shoes off into the corner of the mudroom, toss my scarf, coat, and gloves into one of the cubbies under the white bench against the wall, and walk through to the kitchen. He’s only wearing a pair of sweats. As I push my front to his back, I squeeze his waist. I stand on my tippy toes to reach the nape of his neck and plant a delicate kiss. “Finals are finished.” Another kiss. “I’m officially on winter break.” Longer kiss. “You’re home early… and cooking.” Moving my attention to that spot behind his ear he likes so much, I begin to swirl my tongue. “Could the day get any better?”
    In an instant, he turns around and walks me backward. “Yeah, you could keep taking your clothes off, only wear this , then help me in the kitchen. Nothing like a sexy sous-chef.”
    I grab the apron, fluffing the layers of black and white zebra print and hot pink damask ruffles. “You do know I’ve always been a bit of a tomboy, right?” Our eyes meet. His blue orbs sparkle as he nods, raising his eyebrows, as if challenging me. “I do love the colors and the frills. It doesn’t look like an apron, more like a dress.” I turn it around and untie the fabric. My pulse starts to race. My entire body sizzles like the food on the stove. “Except it’s missing the back.” My body shudders as I continue to think about this game he wants to play with me in our kitchen. It’s naughty and sweet all at the same time.
    “I think that was the idea. I got it from this place that specializes in flirty aprons. When I saw it, all I could think of was you in it naked.” He picks up the wooden spoon and gives the chunky marinara sauce a stir before turning the knob on the stove, reducing the temperature to low. One look and I can tell it’s the recipe we got while on our honeymoon. The jarred stuff I grew up eating has nothing on this sauce. It’s not hard to prepare, either—more patience than skills. My mouth waters thinking of the sweet, less acidic taste of the San