19

He watches me for a few seconds before reaching out and catches my hand across the table, interlacing my fingers in his in a gesture that makes me instantly forget how much of an ass he’s been all morning.

“I’m glad you came home with me, glad that we talked and had ‘us’ time.” Smiling at me honestly, no cool guard up and I melt back at him, all moods fluttering away in the light of that smile.

“Me too.” I pull my hand away as I see ‘Madame of the kitchen’ coming our way with plates and a dish towel slung over one arm. Even though I know there’s nothing in it, it makes me uncomfortable, her seeing when he’s being warmly affectionate. She smiles brightly, completely pleased with herself no doubt, for her culinary masterpiece, as she slides two plates of pancakes in front of us.

Or should I say two plates of weird looking ‘splat’ cakes swimming in a white fluid of some sort that ha