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“Stop acting a fool and get in here.” Dee took Winston’s hand and led him into her kitchen that night. “Close your eyes. I got a surprise for you.”
He pulled back, his hand tensing in hers. “Why are you being so nice?”
“Keep your eyes closed.” In her low-cut, V-neck maxi dress, she lit the vanilla-scented candles and placed them in the center of the table.
“Hm.” Winston sniffed. “I love the smell of vanilla. I’m opening my eyes.”
“Wait.” Dee scampered to the entryway in her backless heels and flicked off the lights. “Open your eyes.” She stood beside the table, holding her breath.
Winston gawked at the decorated table. “I’m confused. Is this a make-up dinner?”
She sashayed to him, the dress gyrating when she moved her hips. “In a way.” She crooked his head to the side and gave him a slow, lustful tongue kiss.
He whimpered, lips shaking.
She grinned at the reaction.
“Wow.” He licked her violet lipstick off his mouth. “This is too weird.” He laughed and sat down. “Are you trying to poison me?”
She pulled his earlobe, snickering. “I made engagement chicken.”
“What’s that?” He set a napkin in his lap.
“It’s a pasta dish.” She lifted the silver dome from his plate, unleashing the scent of thyme and black pepper.
Winston lowered his face into the dish and took a loud sniff. “It smells wonderful.”
She sat beside him and uncovered her plate. “The recipe calls for white wine but I didn’t put it in there.” She cleared her throat, switching her eyes back and forth at him.
“Why not?” He moved his fork around the chunks of chicken breasts, sliced mushrooms and spaghetti.
“I forgot the drinks.” She got the glasses of grape juice she’d chilled from the refrigerator. “Here we go.” She set the decorative glasses on the table. “Bon appetite.”
“We usually have wine with a romantic dinner.”
“Yeah, well.” She cut into the chunk of chicken. “Wasn’t in the mood for wine.”
He guffawed, holding his fist to his mouth. “Since when?”
“How’s the food?”
“It’s delicious, babe.” He chewed. “No bread?”
“Shit.” She rose. “I forgot to heat up the garlic bread.”
“It’s okay.” He took her hand. “You’ve done enough.”
She sat. “You really like it?”
“A candlelight dinner made for me by a beautiful woman?” He winked, swallowing. “What’s not to like? You look fantastic, Dee.”
She fidgeted, a tickle shooting between her legs. “So do you.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes, exchanging tiny smiles here and there until Winston blurted out, “I’m sorry for not standing by you when you made your decision.”
She sucked creamy sauce off her teeth. “I’d rather not talk about Jonathan.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings though.” He set his fork in the plate. “That was probably the hardest decision you’ll ever make, and it’s got to be killing you.”
She sipped the tangy juice.
“You forgive me?” He kissed her hand. “For being such a fool?”
She rubbed his knuckles. “Do you forgive me?”
“For what?”
“I should’ve told you my decision before first.”
“You’re the victim in this, not me.” He kissed her. “I love you.”
She caressed his hand, hungry to take him to her bedroom and make love all night.
“Hurry and eat.” He watched her with an erotic under look, his mouth drawing up in the corners. “So we can get the real party started.”
She laughed until she remembered why she’d invited him. “We need to talk.”
“We are talking.” He pushed a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.
“I’ve been thinking about our future.” She wiped her mouth. “Where our relationship is going and where we want it to go.”
“Um.” His chewing slowed. “I hope we stay together forever.”
She smiled. “As in marriage and kids?”
“Sure.” He smacked.
“When?” She propped her elbow on the table, not giving a damn about table manners. “Any idea what time in our lives you’d like to settle down?”
“Uh...” He coughed into his fist. “I haven’t thought about it. I mean—”
“Well, you better think about it because I’m pregnant.” She laid her fork in the plate.
“Deidra.” He guffawed with his mouth wide open. “Stop playing.”
She glared at him.
His laughter melted into pathetic chuckles. “Wait. This is a joke, right?”
“Nope.” She got the paper off the counter and gave it to him. “Read it yourself. That’s the paper from the doctor.”
He scanned it, his eyebrows rising and lowering as he read. Afterwards, he stared in a daze as if he’d lost oxygen.
“Winston?”
He huffed and puffed, touching his chest. “I...I can’t breathe.”
“Winston?” She jumped out the chair as he stood.
“I need air.” He ran out the kitchen.
“Winston!”
She followed him.