65 - Eva.

"I'm stuffed," I say as I set down my knife and fork, leaning back in the chair.

Oak chuckles. "We're going to be eating a lot of turkey for the next week."

I scrunch up my nose. "I'm not sure I can stomach anymore for a year," I say, looking at the food we've just eaten.

He shakes his head and stands, clearing the dishes off the table to put them in the washer.

I help, grabbing the leftovers and taking them to the far counter. "Where do you keep your Tupperware?" I ask.

He signals to a drawer on my right, and I pull it out, fishing out and boxing up the leftovers to put in the fridge. Once we've cleared everything away, he looks at me with that all too familiar hungry expression.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

He walks toward me, closing the gap between us. "I'm thinking that this day has been perfect, but there's one way to make it better."

The air escapes my lungs as he yanks me against his hard, muscled chest. "How?" I ask.

He leans down and whispers in my ear, "If you let me str