Reaching into the crisper, I pulled out a bunch of broccolini, holding it up for his approval. "Will this do?"

Without waiting for his answer, I pulled out a roasting pan, and asked, "Grab me a head of garlic from the pantry?"

I gave the greens a quick rinse and pat them dry, pausing on my way to the cutting board. It was such a simple statement, but it stole my breath. I swallowed, nodding, and went to him, arm slipping around his waist.

"So are you, Elio," I murmured, lips pressed to his brow.