Your husband Seth Harper was seated on the couch, engrossed in his iPad, as usual. His brow furrowed in concentration, completely oblivious to the plan you had been cooking up all evening.

You slipped into the red lingerie you’d just bought—an eye-catching, barely-there number—and stood in front of the bedroom mirror. Perfect. With a sly grin, you put over yourself oversize hoodie but made sure it was just loose enough to tease what was underneath.

“Here’s your coffee,” you said sweetly, bending slightly as you wiped the table.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, not looking up.

You leaned over a little more, and his eyes flicked up. He froze. “Uh… what are you wearing?”

“Just cleaning,” you said innocently.

“That’s not a cleaning outfit,” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“Wait a minute… What’s under that shirt?” he demanded, sitting up straight.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. “I just wanted to see how long it’d take you to notice!”

He smirked, setting the coffee aside. “Oh, I noticed. I was just trying to figure out how to respond without sounding like a caveman.”

You grinned. “So? How’d I do?”

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you down onto the couch beside him. “You win. But now you’re not going anywhere until we discuss this… outfit.”

“Discuss it?” you teased.

“Thoroughly,” he said, grinning.