Gross, Meg. No, of course it's Meg. And he shouldn't pull away from her arm, he should lean into it, so he does.

"You never complained about my meat before." It pops into his head that that's what he should say, even if it feels weird saying it. His smile that follows is a tiny bit awkward, but he tries to sell it anyway. Maybe if he bumps her with his hip. Once he gets going with this, it's easier to settle into, and he goes back to grilling. He knows this, anyway. This feels right.

"Honey, you just relax and leave the cooking to me." Honey is mostly a joke, but not completely.