He came out wearing flannel pajama bottoms and an apron tied around his bare torso. He came bearing a tray with a glass of orange juice in one corner, a small vase with a rose sticking up out of it, and a plate in the middle.
"Is this...?" I said as he sat the tray down in front of me.
"Frittata. I told you I'd make it for you."
"Took you long enough," I said. I'd almost forgotten about that particular breakfast rain check. Almost. I grabbed the fork and knife on either side of the plate, the sheet slipping partway down my shoulders.
Liam leaned down and kissed my bared skin. I closed my eyes and enjoyed it. I don't think I could ever tire of how nice his lips felt on me.
"Go on, take a bite," he said.
I did. It was delicious. I told him so.
He kissed me again, this time turning my face so that he could get to my mouth. "Good. Then I hope you'll let me make those for you for the rest of our lives."
The End