"Expecting company?" she asked. "It's so clean in here."
He smiled and shrugged. "Nah. I just like it neat."
He had a flat screen on the wall and an entertainment center below it. She spotted a digital cable box, a DVD player and an Xbox gaming system. He had DVDs and video games lined up neatly on the shelf of the entertainment center and she had a sudden urge to check and see if they were alphabetized. There was a coffee table in the middle of the room and the couch was a dark brown microfiber, with wide seats and extra plush cushions. There was a matching easy chair and ottoman angled next to it.
"Something to drink?" he asked, moving to the kitchen.
"Just water," she replied. "Thanks."
She glanced over at a long end table against the wall. There were two framed pictures on it and she leaned over to see them better. One was an older picture of a woman appearing to be in her late thirties or early forties. She had wavy, mid-length dark hair and wore glasses, but Drew instantly recognized her plump, luscious lips and smiled. The other picture was of Heath and a young Hispanic man, taken in a desert. They were both wearing military-issued camouflage uniforms and wearing sunglasses. They had their arms slung around each other's shoulders and both were grinning widely. Drew knew she was looking at Joaquin, his best friend. There was a single votive candle in between the photos and it was currently unlit. Drew could tell from the black charred wick and the dried melted wax that Heath lit it from time to time.
She took her seat again, stretching her legs in front of her when Heath reappeared. He held a plastic bottle of Gatorade in one hand and held her mug in the other. He smirked at her and set the mug in front of her. Drew saw that it was filled with water and ice. She chuckled.
"Killin' two birds and all that," Heath said, guzzling a swallow of Gatorade. Drew picked up the mug and sipped at it demurely. She set it back down and turned to face him.
"I really don't care about the mug," she informed him. "It was all a ploy to see where you live."
"Ah," Heath replied. "Well done." He smiled at her. "Regardless, you have it back now. I think you have something for me?"
Drew grinned and grabbed the sack. She grabbed his foil-covered wrap and pulled it out, pleased that it still felt warm. She turned back to hand it to him, but instead of taking it, he slipped a hand around the back of her neck, his thumb stroking her jaw, and pulled her closer. His lips stroked hers softly, and as always, she marveled at how soft they felt against hers and the way they enveloped her mouth.
"That's actually what I meant," he murmured, brushing his lips against hers. Then he snatched the wrap from her hand. "But this works too." She laughed and pushed his shoulder. "Aren't you eating?" he asked. She shook her head.
"No, I ate earlier," she replied. Heath nodded and handed her the remote for the TV before immersing himself in his meal. Drew sighed contentedly and flipped through the channels rapidly, searching for something interesting to watch.
"How can you even tell what you're watching?" Heath demanded around a mouthful of his wrap. "It's givin' me a headache."
"I'm just extraordinarily talented," Drew replied absently, her attention momentarily captured by a reality show featuring a bunch of women screaming in each other's faces. She cocked her head curiously before zipping past the show. She finally settled on a cable presentation of "The Godfather" and snuggled into Heath's side once he finished his meal.
"Thanks for the food," he said, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close.
"You are most welcome," she replied. They watched together in silence for a while and then Heath spoke, gesturing at the screen.
"Your dad looks like Sonny," he commented and Drew squinted at the screen. After a moment she had to laugh. Her father did resemble the older version of Sonny, or rather the actor that portrayed him—James Caan.
"He does," she marveled. "Don't tell him that, though. He'll go around shouting 'Bada-bing!' at everything and everyone."
"And your Uncle Gino reminds me of Don Corleone," Heath added. "The way he sits there all quiet. Just takin' everything in. Plottin' on how to whack you."
"Whack you, maybe," Drew said with a grin. "Me, I'm his favorite. Don't tell Nik or Toni that."
"I will," Heath replied. "I'm tellin' them next time I see 'em. And it's your ass."
Drew slipped an arm across his waist and snuggled into his chest as his arm squeezed her gently. She felt so at peace, so very contented that she let out a sigh.
"Everything good?" he asked mildly.