Things had been going along well between them. Suspiciously well, or maybe that was just her cynical nature chiming in to try to ruin everything. She'd healed up nicely, gotten back to work, and it was almost business as usual. Almost, because her usual hadn't used to involve another person in her home all the time. In her life. Certainly not to this degree. But she'd find herself trying to be home at times she knew he'd be, or picking up food she thought he'd like.
God, she found herself smiling sappily to herself in the middle of the day sometimes, drawing attention to herself by her stupid, lovesick expression. But it was hard to get worked up over it, especially when she'd been in line behind an older couple, looking off to the distance and thinking of what kind of sandwich to get him for dinner that night, then thinking of feeding it to him, from his lap-. She'd been jolted out of her daydream by the woman ahead of her turning to her and giving her the most knowing smile of all as she patted her arm. "Ah, I remember those days," she'd said, voice high but soft, and with a heavy Russian accent. "Trust me, devushka, it doesn't get any less. Only more."
The instinct to scoff had been lingering, but the intent behind the comment was just too damn genuine, and she'd found her cheeks pinking as she waited in line. She'd wound up getting them huge cuban's that she had indeed fed him from his lap. It had gotten messy. She grinned just thinking back to it.
That grin was still on her face while she sat at her desk, going over the last bits of information for a client about the goings on of their ex employee trying to claim workers comp. Unfortunately for the client, the guy had legitimately been hurt and wasn't trying to cash in beyond what he'd earned. The door opening and the phrase being said had her laughing, but she didn't look up from her laptop, still wanting to get it finished entirely before he distracted her. "I'm not a redhead and you're way sexier than Ricky. I'm also pretty sure you're not Cuban."
Oooh, there's chapters
God, she found herself smiling sappily to herself in the middle of the day sometimes, drawing attention to herself by her stupid, lovesick expression. But it was hard to get worked up over it, especially when she'd been in line behind an older couple, looking off to the distance and thinking of what kind of sandwich to get him for dinner that night, then thinking of feeding it to him, from his lap-. She'd been jolted out of her daydream by the woman ahead of her turning to her and giving her the most knowing smile of all as she patted her arm. "Ah, I remember those days," she'd said, voice high but soft, and with a heavy Russian accent. "Trust me, devushka, it doesn't get any less. Only more."
The instinct to scoff had been lingering, but the intent behind the comment was just too damn genuine, and she'd found her cheeks pinking as she waited in line. She'd wound up getting them huge cuban's that she had indeed fed him from his lap. It had gotten messy. She grinned just thinking back to it.
That grin was still on her face while she sat at her desk, going over the last bits of information for a client about the goings on of their ex employee trying to claim workers comp. Unfortunately for the client, the guy had legitimately been hurt and wasn't trying to cash in beyond what he'd earned. The door opening and the phrase being said had her laughing, but she didn't look up from her laptop, still wanting to get it finished entirely before he distracted her. "I'm not a redhead and you're way sexier than Ricky. I'm also pretty sure you're not Cuban."