He thrust a bouquet of flowers into her arms. "Here you go."
"They're beautiful." She glanced up at him suspiciously, unconsciously stroking the silky red petals of the large, brilliant blooms. "What did you do?"
"What do you mean, what did I do?" He frowned. "Does there have to be a reason? Can't a guy just get flowers for his girlfriend because he wants to?"
"Well, yeah." She busied herself digging a vase out from beneath the sink, filling it with water, and setting the flowers inside. "But you don't." She tipped the packet of preservatives into the water carefully. "Let's see. Last time you bought me flowers, it was because you accidentally spilled ink on my favorite blouse. The time before that, it was because you forgot you were wearing your work boots into the house, and you scuffed the wood floors. I had to get them professionally resurfaced."
She was ticking off the occasions on her fingers, her lips pursed as she recalled them. "Before that, you tore a hole in my favorite comforter and got feathers everywhere. Which I am still bitter about, by the way." She gave him a level look. "So, what is it this time?"
"I maintain my innocence," he protested.
"Hah!" She chortled. "You and innocent are two terms that do not belong in the same sentence. I'm not even sure they belong in the same language." She shook a finger at him. "I'm gonna find out sooner or later." She tried to sound forbidding, but they both knew she indulged him and would likely forgive him anything.
He dragged her down onto his lap. "Remind me to buy you flowers more often," he said into her hair.
She giggled. "Gippal?"
"Hmm?" He kissed her, tasting strawberry lip gloss and her bright smile.
"Buy me flowers more often," she said.
"Tomorrow," he said. "I'll buy you more flowers tomorrow."
Besides, he noted to himself, that was probably all the time he'd have before she peeked in the washer and discovered that his carelessly-added pair of purple pants had turned all her pristine white undergarments a lovely shade of lavender.