Chapter 13
“Yeah.” He sighed. “The menu said it was spaghetti and meatballs, but it tasted like something from a can. Nothing like yours, babe.”
“I knew it,” I teased. “You only love me for my cooking.”
“Among other things.” He chuckled. “Hey, it wasn’t easy to find someone who looks as good as you and who can cook as good as my Mom.”
A blush warmed my cheeks. Other men had told me I looked good, but that was my job, and it had never meant as much to me. I glanced at the clock I’d placed on the mantel. It was a little before ten, but with the two hour time difference, that made it only about eight in St. Paul. “Uh…Wills…”
“Yeah?”
“Where are you?”
“I told you. I’m in—”
“No. I mean…are you in your hotel room?”
“Yeah. I am.”
I put my feet up on the coffee table, making myself comfortable. “Where are you in your hotel room?”
“Ah.” There was a smile in his voice. “I’m lying on the bed.”
“What are you wearing?”