“Can I put in a request for more nights where I come home to meatball subs and you wearing only an apron?” “Are you going to be on time?” I teased. “Never. Because I fucking love it when you’re mad at me. I’m beginning to understand why my parents fought all the time. I think it was foreplay. No wonder they had six kids.” Laughing, I wriggled beneath him. “I’d settle for one. Can I get up now? I think my arms are dead.”
