Now done with the last of the customers, Sally joined us. “Want me to take those for you, Rose?” she asked, already reaching for my roses.
I turned my body, just slightly, nothing too obvious. “Oh, that’s okay. I’ll just get them back there and handle them myself after Jack leaves.” To say I was a little territorial about my weekly roses was putting it lightly. “Jack? Why don’t you pick a seat and I’ll be right there in a second then we’ll start our meeting.”
He shook his head as if I was a lost cause. “Right. I’ll go do that.”
“Would you like a coffee, Mr. Hawthorne?” I asked, kissing him on the cheek.
“Yes, I would love one, Mrs. Hawthorne.”
As he turned around and left, Sally snorted next to me. “I’m not sure if coffee is an innuendo for sex or you were just talking about real coffee.”
“Unfortunately that was about real coffee.” As I went into the kitchen and placed the roses next to the sink, Sally followed me.
“What’s with the diplomacy?” When I gave her a confused look, she explained. “Mr. Hawthorne, Mrs. Hawthorne…”
I laughed. “Oh, he wants to work on our five-year-marriage plan so we’re gonna have a meeting about that.”
Sally looked at me for a long moment then nodded. “Makes sense.”
“I thought so too.”
Owen walked out of the stock room with a box full of our to-go cups in his arms, and Sally quickly walked back out.
I leaned back against the counter and eyed Owen. “What did you do now?”
He rolled his eyes. “What makes you think I did something? I didn’t do shit. She’ll be back to normal in an hour, don’t worry.”
Since I believed he was right, because Sally was the last person on earth to hold a grudge against Owen, I let it go and left him alone. Grabbing a plate on my way out, I picked up the last two lemon muffins and started on Jack’s coffee.
He had chosen the table nearest to the window and was following my every move over the newspaper he had in his hands. Feeling heat rush to my cheeks under his gaze, I hurried and took my seat across from him as he folded the paper and placed it on the table.
“They’re dating now,” I explained, answering his earlier question just in case I hadn’t been clear before.
“I gathered that much. I’m not sure that’s a great idea. When something goes wrong, it’ll affect your business.”
“I love it when you’re being positive. And I know, but so far it hasn’t affected their work, and they promised.”
He gave me an exasperated look as if I was a fool for taking their word for it.
“Plus, it’s not like I would fire them for being in love. It’s fun listening to them bicker. Owen is a lot like you, actually, so it’s extra fun because of that. Suddenly I’m surrounded by grumpy men.”
“I’m not grumpy, Rose. I’m serious.”
Laughing, I got up, leaned over the table, and quickly kissed his lips before taking my seat again. “And I love you just like that.” He was wearing my favorite navy blue suit. “Using everything you have in your arsenal for the negotiations, I see,” I commented lightly right before sipping from my tea.
Jack’s brows drew together in confusion. “What?”
“Your suit—you know that’s my favorite one.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief. “And you wore the dress I told you I’d prefer if you only wore when I was standing next to you, holding your hand.”
I feigned shock and glanced down at my dress. “This old thing?” It truly was a pretty basic black wrap dress with long sleeves, but I knew he liked it for some reason. He couldn’t keep his hands off of me whenever I wore it.
He arched one perfect eyebrow that basically said I know your game and leaned back in his seat.
“Would you like to start?”
I pushed the muffins in front of him. Lemon week was just for him, tart and sweet, just like someone I knew. “Would you like to taste these? I baked them.”
“You can’t trick me with pastries, Rose. I’ll take them with me when I leave.”
I smiled. “I would never, Mr. Hawthorne. I’m appalled that you’d even think I’d do something like that. Please go on then. I was just trying to be nice to my husband.”
“Right. So, tell me, what kind of marriage do you want for the next five years?”
“Only five? I get the boot after that?”
“I thought it would be healthier to sit down every five years and plan for the next five years.”
God, it was a struggle not to get up and pull him to the back. He looked so devastatingly handsome and serious that I was having trouble keeping a straight face.
“How do you know I won’t divorce you in the next five years?
“You’re not going to divorce me,” he said, dismissing the idea.
“Says who?”
“I do. If you didn’t divorce me after everything that happened, you’re not gonna get rid of me for something small and stupid I’ll most likely end up doing at some point.”
“I’ll divorce you in a heartbeat if you cheat on me.”
“Since that’s not a possibility, let’s talk about our five-year plans.”
“No to leaving socks around the house. As small as that sounds, it’d drive me crazy, and that’s how the beginning of the end starts. No clothes on the floor, and no chewing your food with your mouth open.”
“Can you take this more seriously?”
I frowned at him. “I am,” I stressed.
“Have you ever seen me leave my socks around? My clothes?”
“No. I’m just telling you so you won’t start.”
“Can we get back to the plan?”
“Are you not listening to me? Those things are part of the plan. You can’t cheat, you can’t start leaving your socks or clothes around, and you can’t chew your food with your mouth open. The sound drives me insane.”
“Those are your relationship plans for the next five years?”
“We’re just getting started. Also, why does it have to be just my plans? You tell me what you want for the next five years, too.”
“I just need you to stay with me, so that means I need to learn what you want.”
“I’m flattered, but no. That’s not how a marriage works. I’m pretty easygoing. I want love and loyalty, and for you to talk to me.”
“Rose, you’re going to have to be more specific. I told you, you have a million things to say about our marriage all the time. Start with one of them. Tell me about the marriage you wanted to have.”
“Fine.” I nodded carefully. “I want a date night every week. If we’re swamped with work, we can do it at home, but I need those few hours of just you and me without anything else getting in the way.
“Okay. I can do that.”
“Aren’t you supposed to take notes?” I asked, reaching for my tea again.
He tapped a finger to his head, his lips smiling.
“Okay. We’ll see. Your turn.”
“I want you to come over for lunch.”
“To the office?”