Closing her eyes for a moment, Melinda savoured the feeling of Bill’s gentle touch on her back. She was smiling when she looked at him again, somewhat soothed by his assurances.
“It’s not your life pattern I’m worried about,” she said softly. “Not when it comes to making us work.” Once again her fingers found his face, caressing, exploring, familiarizing. “I leave for work at six am and on most days I’m not back home until dinner time at the earliest and I live right above the bakery. Aside from Christmas, holidays is when I work pretty much around the clock and brides?” She chuckled and shook her head. “Brides and their mothers can have an astounding lack of respect for my privatesphere and they don’t ever seem to change their minds during business hours.”
She grew quiet for a moment before she added; “But I’m home almost every night.”