The prospect of food and sex generally had an uplifting effect on the moods of both halves of this equation. It had been a long, busy day, but they had a good plan for the night ahead. "I know, you're so put upon," Nali teased. "Under my thighs, all the time."
"I really am. Moving in, making the bed, ordering out, having sex. When do I get a break?" he asked, obviously teasing. The truth was he was wasn't really missing his life back home much at all. Everything he needed and wanted was right here.
"In about eight months, but then you're gonna be under the baby's thumb," she informed him sweetly, letting out a low laugh of her own as they smoothed down the last of the sheets just in time to hear the knock on the door downstairs. "Are we racing to the door for the food?"
"Our daughter," Rick corrected, a smile on his face at the memory of the adorable child they'd been given a peek of. He blinked out of his reverie at the sound of the knock. "Oh! I'll get it!" he volunteered, turning for the stairs and taking them two at a time. "Coming!" he called to whoever was at the door.
"Our daughter," she repeated, a soft smile on her own face as Rick left the room at speed to rush down the stairs. "Your daddy's gonna be all lit up when he meets you, kiddo," she informed her mid-section, still flat, making her way downstairs more slowly. "It's gonna be adorable."
Of course, Rick was unaware of the conversation between mother and unborn daughter, but it hardly mattered. He was still feeling a little overwhelmed by it all, even now that the pieces of their lives were falling into place. She arrived downstairs in time to hear him thanking the delivery person before closing the door, a bag that smelled suspiciously of Chinese food in his hand.
"Kitchen?" he asked, as she joined him.
"Or couch, your choice," she told him, quite content to sit on the floor and eat, but that was mostly because her own family had to sit on the floor to accommodate the entire brood at one meal.
"Couch it is, then," Rick said, waiting for Nali to lead the way. Thankfully, there was a coffee table where they could lay out the various boxes of food stuffs. "I hope you like egg rolls."
"Mmm, absolutely." She swiped the mess off the coffee table for him to put the boxes down, perching on the edge of the couch eagerly. "You know, I don't think I've ever had a day where I feel like I've earned my dinner so much."
"Really?" he asked, as he set the boxes down and pulled two pairs of chopsticks out of the bag, along with napkins, a box of egg rolls, and of course, the all-important fortune cookies. "Why do you think that is?"
"You might have noticed, I'm not really a heavy lifting kind of girl," she said cheerfully, waiting impatiently for the food to be made available for nibbling. "Today was kind of physical."
Rick frowned at her confession, as he handed her a box of chow mein and pair of chopsticks. "Are you okay?" he asked, obviously concerned. If he'd known she was pregnant, he probably wouldn't have let her lift a finger to help, which might have been why she hadn't told him yet.
She chuckled. "I'm tired, honey, that's all," she assured him. "It's totally normal, apparently. But hey, my boobs look amazing, so there's pros and cons."
"As if your boobs didn't look amazing before you got pregnant," he murmured, a smirk on his face. "Do you know how to use these, or should I get forks?" he asked of the chopsticks.
"I know how," she assured him, popping hers apart and tucking one finger between them. She clacked them playfully toward him. "Do you need lessons, Mr. Connors?"
"Are we talking about chopsticks or something else, Mrs. Connors?" Rick teased in return, as he broke the plastic open and showed her that he, too, was adept at using the wooden utensils - or mostly adept.
"Did you get mustard?" she asked, lifting an eggroll up to her mouth hopefully. It was such a domestic scene, and one they had played out several times before, but for some reason it felt more real now they were sitting in their house, surrounded by unopened boxes.
"There should be some in the bag," he told her, grabbing the bag to pour out the contents, which included various sauces, onto the table. "I could get used to this, you know," he told her. He wasn't referring to the takeout so much as the domestic bliss.
"Mmm, lurve me some mustard," she declared, opening it up to dip her eggroll. She smiled at him, knowing exactly how he was feeling. "You will," she promised. "So will I."
"Should I put some on various body parts later so you can lick it off?" he teased, smirking around his own egg roll, which he preferred to eat just as it was.
She snorted around her mouthful, taking a moment to chew and swallow before answering. "What, you don't think you taste pretty damn good to me too?"
"It's just I've never met a woman who was so obsessed with ... mustard," he said, snickering. "Now, if it were my choice, I'd pick something sweet. Honey, jam, chocolate. Something like that," he said, indicating her body with a wave of his eggroll.
"Baby, are you asking me to paint myself in chocolate someday?" she asked impishly. "That could get messy real fast, you know." But in the back of her mind, she was already filing that away for future use.
"Just parts of yourself," he said, his gaze drifting to aforementioned "boobs" and trying not to indulge that fantasy just yet - not at least, until they were done eating.
She followed his gaze, her grin growing wider for a long moment. "Down boy," she told him. "After dinner, and not too soon after dinner, or you'll get cramp."
"I'm not going swimming, Nali." Rick chuckled. Though he might be willing to go "diving" somewhere else that he was too polite to mention.
She snorted with laughter, giggling as she swallowed once again. "Sure you won't need a snorkel?"
"I can hold my breath pretty well," he said, sticking his tongue out at her. He didn't think either of them was talking about conventional swimming, though they lived at the beach.