WebNovelOwnage20.00%

Chapter 5

I’ve stocked his favorite dill pickles, which he insists must accompany grilled cheese. When I’ve cleaned up and put on my robe, I head to the kitchen, where I handle the pickle part of the meal. The tray is set, butter melting, sandwiches readied for their slide. I kiss Tommy’s neck as I pass.

“Chef Knox,” I say.

“Pickle master,” he replies, and we chuckle because there are sometimes pickle references during sex.

We take the tray with our meal to the living room, where it sits between us on the sofa. “Movie, music, or quiet?” I ask.

“Movie,” he says, another kindness, because quiet means “talk” and the game is still between us.

“The usual?” I ask and he nods like a little kid.

I put on The Fugitive. He has a crush on Harrison Ford.