Mitchell's Power Play

Homemade Dinner

SAMMY

It was Saturday evening and the third time in a week that Mitch had cooked me dinner. It had surprised me when he texted me to come over. The Empires had played a mid day game, and I'd been in the bakery finishing up a cake order. I had assumed I'd be seeing him afterwards but figured we'd order in because it had been a busy day for both of us, but Mitch wanted to cook. I knew he enjoyed cooking, and I wasn't about to complain. That man really knew his way around a kitchen.

Another text had arrived as I was about to leave the bakery, telling me to bring a sleepover bag, since neither one of us had anywhere to be on Sunday.

A home cooked meal followed by a large, soft bed with my hot and wonderful man. Yeah, I could seriously get used to that.

There had been an extra pep in my step as I hurried home to shower and pack.

***

Mitch had a beautiful apartment. It was somewhat minimalistic, with no clutter or knickknacks, and very different from my electric one. Where his was organized and almost bare, mine was full of light, pictures, plants and pillows. The only rooms where his personality showed were the kitchen and his bedroom, which made sense since he spent most of his time there.

The one thing that had surprised me the first time I went to his apartment was the lack of pictures. Sure, he had some art on the wall, but no personal photos except for a small framed one in his bedroom, of him and Nash back in college. Nash had his arm wrapped around Mitchell's shoulder and they both grinned at the photographer. I'd asked him about it and he'd told me it was a gift from Nash's mom when he got drafted.

Liz was such a sweet woman. I wondered if she realized how much Mitch treasured that photo.

It would be easy to live in his apartment with him. I'd love to add my own touches to the place for sure. Especially some color to the walls in the living-room and hallway, and some throw pillows and blankets for his brown leather couch with the matching love seat. And plants. He needed some green plants. I could make him a small herb garden for his kitchen window.

As I glanced around the apartment, I could totally picture myself coming home there, to Mitch, after a long day at work, with the scent of whatever amazing dinner he was cooking coming down the hallway as soon as I opened the door. The thought made me smile.

We hadn't talked about moving in together yet and I knew it was too early, but that didn't stop me from imagining what it'd be like. And I liked the thought. A lot.

I found Mitch in the kitchen. He was cleaning up as he cooked and was in the process of loading the dishwasher while he had some kind of sauce simmering on the stove.

"Hey, you," he smiled and leaned over to kiss me on the lips.

"Hey yourself. Sorry about the game."

I had listened to it at work while I finished decorating the cake order. It wasn't the same as watching the game at the arena, or even on TV, but it was better than nothing. Unfortunately, the Empires had lost.

"Yeah, it sucked."

Mitch closed the dishwasher and straightened up to his full height. He was casually dressed in a pair of black joggers and a worn gray t-shirt with the Empires logo on it. His feet were bare and I couldn't help but tease him. "So barefoot in the kitchen, huh," I grinned, "just how I like it."

Mitch looked taken aback for a second before he scoffed. "How you like it?" He pulled his shirt up and patted himself on the tight abdomen, which displayed a tight six pack. "I think you got that a bit wrong, sweetheart. It's supposed to be you in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant."