Abi blushed at the look Hemingway gave her, trying not to blurt out and snog him senseless in front of their boy. She didn't want to traumatise poor Charlie after all. Releasing his wrists slowly, she ran her fingers down to his hands and instead clasped them both in hers.
"Oh I am well aware, Papa," she chuckled, "We'll have to have our own private playtime tonight..." Abi managed to mutter into his ear before there was a crash, laughter and the sound of plastic clicking.
Charlie had slid into the room with a policeman's hat on his head and a fake gun in his hand, pointed straight at Hemingway, "CAUGHT YOU!"