I was sitting at my computer yesterday, diligently doing research on new and exciting fundraising ideas, when my husband came in from mowing the lawn. The scent of freshly cut grass and sunshine and spring came in with him, and I smiled as he took off his headphones and kicked off his shoes.
“I’m gonna hit the showers,” he said, and made a beeline for the bathroom. Just as the door closed behind him, I heard him say, “I always feel so manly after the first mow of the season. Man. Arrrr.”
A few minutes later, he emerged, clean and fresh as a daisy. I hear him rummaging around in the bedroom, drawers opening and closing, and a momentary conversation with one of the cats. As I’m typing away at my keyboard, I suddenly felt his hands on my shoulders, his fingers kneading away some of the ever-present tension residing there.
“Whatcha doin’?” he asked, brushing a hand over my hair.
“Just some quick research,” I mumbled, focused on navigating my mouse.
“I have plans for us tonight,” he said quietly. His hand brushed over my hair. Playfully. Seductively.
“Oh?” I say, becoming distracted by my husband’s roving hands.
“Yeah.” He walked around to the side of my chair and pushed my hair away from my neck. “As soon as you’re done with work, and you’re home from the gym, we’re gonna have some fun.” He bends down and kisses my neck, just below my ear, in that spot I like best. Lingering.
And even after all this time, my heart skips a beat.
“Fun, huh?” I say, leaning into him. “So…whatcha got planned, hot shot?”
“I’m gonna kick your ass at Mario Party,” he whispers. And then he retreats to his favorite video gaming spot on the couch.
Romance. We’ve got it in spades.
(We did play Mario Party last night. And he won. Twice.)