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He grabs his napkin and wipes it, but it just smears.

I laugh. “It’s still there.”

He wipes it again. Still didn’t work.

I take my napkin and lean over the table, using it to wipe off the mayo from the corner of his mouth.

“All better,” I say.

He swallows hard. “Thank you.”

We finish our lunch and I glance at the time, trying to figure out when I should start dinner.

“Do you have one of those crock pots?” I ask.

Trina had one and it was so convenient. The food would cook all by itself while we were at the bakery.

Forge’s brow furrow as he thinks. “Actually, I think we do.”

He heads into the garage and comes back a moment later with a large box.

“Never used it. Don’t even remember when we got it.”

He takes it out of the box for me and plugs it into one of the outlets on the counter, turning it on to make sure it works. The little button lights up, showing us that it does.

“This will be much better if we let it slow cook all day. What time will Pierce be home?”

Shrugging, Forge says, “Around 6:30 probably.”

I nod, then get to work preparing the food. I season the meat, cut the potatoes and carrots, then throw everything into the crockpot, add the liquid and more seasonings, then set it to low.

“There. We should have beef stew by the time he gets home.”

“Nice,” Forge says. “I knew I didn’t throw that thing away for a reason.”

I can’t help but smile. “So, what do we do now?”

A low rumble of thunder rolls in, shaking the house. We both look up at the sky light. The grey clouds are getting even darker.

“Do you like scary movies?” he asks with a sly smile.

“I’ve never seen one…” I admit. “But I think it sounds fun.”

He laughs and takes my hand to lead me over to the couch. I don’t remember getting from the kitchen to the couch because all I can think about is how warm his hand is and how it’s making my skin tingle.

I sit on the couch. He pulls a blanket from the back of the couch and lays it over me. Then he grabs the remote from beside the TV and comes to sit on the couch—all the way at the other end. I watch him as he stares at the TV, scrolling through different options.

I never had a TV until I met Trina, and she taught me all about movies and TV shows. She’s probably so busy right now, all by herself. I have to call her later. I told her I’d call her every night, when I know she’s not busy at the bakery.

“This is a good one,” Forge says. “For your first one, anyway. They never get the crime scene stuff right in these movies, but I try not to focus on that.”

“Crime scene?” I ask.

He looks at me with a smile, opening his mouth to say something, then snaps it shut like he’s had a sudden realization.

“Shit. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “Let’s watch something else.”

I don’t really know what to say to that, so I don’t say anything. I appreciate him noticing without me having to explain it.