"Well, a man's got to eat," he protested, abandoning his domestic pursuits once again in order to shuffle through the fridge. Some butter was discovered, acquired, and laid out atop the counter, and he glanced at Melinda before sliding it her way. "Allegedly."
Rather than resume serving, he gathered up his wine and sniffed it thoughtfully, rolling it foot of the glass around in his fingertips wtih a careless familiarity.
"I wasn't sure about this one. I thought it best to serve it to someone with dubious taste. In wine and friends." A small smile hinted about his mouth before he consented to sip. He knew her taste to be impeccable in both.