Nana turned her attention to her husband.
With a sigh, I turned mine to my soon-to-be husband. “Now, Mr. Garret,” I whispered in his ear. “There’s the small matter of a quiet, candlelit dinner you owe me.”
He leaned close and pressed his lips to my cheek. “Can I negotiate a change in venue?”
“You definitely cannot!” I jerked away. My insides thrummed with indignation. “We’ve been planning—”
“Hush now, you haven’t heard my offer.”
My ears caught the teasing lilt in his voice. I pulled my lips to the side, feigning irritation. “Fine, go on. What’s your offer?”
“Trade in a candlelit dinner for breakfast in bed.”
“Whose? Yours or mine?”
“Both.”
I grinned and nuzzled his neck. “Sir, I believe that’s a right neighborly agreement.”
“So, you’ll take me up on it?”
I pressed my lips to his. “Up and down.”
A word about the author...
When I was little, there was only one thing I wanted to be when I grew up: a superhero. Sadly, this goal was made moot when I realized that being a klutz was not in fact, a super power, and my super-weakness for anything bright and shiny meant that a magpie with self-control could easily defeat me in a battle of wills. Hence, the turn to writing as an occupation. I don’t get to live on a secret space station orbiting the earth (and thank God, because I get motion sick on a merry-go-round), but I still get to wear leotards, a cape and say things like, “STAND ASIDE! THIS IS A JOB FOR WRITING-GIRL!”
Other Titles by the Author
What Happens in Vegas
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