“All jokes aside, why am I only just finding out that you are one hell of a cook?” And it’s a strange look on his face, like he is a little hurt that Forrest never shared this with him.

“It’s no big deal. Just something I enjoy, but I’m not stupid enough to give up having you cook dinner for me.” Forrest shrugs his shoulders a little.

“Well, you can bet that the next dinner at your place, I’m sitting on my ass and letting you do all the work. And I can’t wait to see what you come up with.” Flynn lifts his wine glass toward Forrest’s, but I can see the hesitation on Forrest’s face at the thought of cooking for more than just me.

“You will be amazed. His food is to die for,” I say, leaning up and kissing Forrest on his cheek and holding my glass up as well, waiting for him to join us.

He doesn’t speak but just raises his glass and gives a little clink against mine and Flynn’s.

For all the incredible achievements Forrest has had in his work, I suspect they mean nothing compared to this simple acceptance from Flynn for such a small thing.

Our minds work in strange ways. The things that mean the most in our life are not always big and grand; instead, they can be the small moments that make our heart flutter just that little bit harder.

* * *

As we ride back in the car with both Flynn and Felisha, I have a full belly and a nice buzz from the beautiful wine that we sampled today.

“I was proud of my cooking today.” I lean my head on Forrest’s shoulder. “I mean, if I had to rate it, I would be in the bottom half of the class, but hey, it was edible, and that’s a big achievement for me.” Both Felisha and I start to giggle as she high-fives me from the seat beside me.

“Same, sister, same,” Felisha replies.

“I just think it means you both need more practice. What do you say, Flynn, we have the girls cook for us from now on, and the next dinner party is all theirs.” With my hand on his chest, I can feel Forrest’s deep voice in his chest as I snuggle back into his side. I could get used to this touching each other.

“Sounds good, Brother,” Flynn replies from the front seat.

“You are both delusional. Cooking is your love language, and we are happy to reap the rewards of that,” Felisha answers, and her words hit me hard in the chest.