“Hand it over, now!”

I try to remain stern but I can’t help the giggle that escapes my lips.

It’s crazy how even after ten years of marriage, he still makes me feel as giddy as a school girl who has a crush.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you need this?”

He smiles, holding the spatula I was just using to stir our dinner for the night.

“Give it!” I pout. Giving him my best puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, now you know that’s not fair. You know I can’t resist that cute little face of yours.” He drops the spatula, getting sauce all over our recently renovated kitchen floor. His big, strong hands cup my delicate face. He kisses me ever so lightly. Leaving me wanting more.

Oh how I love those full lips of his. After all this time I still get such a warm and cozy feeling when our lips interlock.

Our eyes gaze deep into each others. His look like little pools of honey. I want to drink them up.

I’m not sure how long our embrace lasts. But long enough for the smoke alarm to go off, the pot of supper is boiling over.

We can do nothing but laugh.

Dinner, burning. Just like my desire for him.