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“Famous?”
“Not really,” he answered ruefully. “It’s not all that homemade either, but it is good. How does it sound?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“What do you like on your pizza?” he asked.
“Surprise me,” I replied. “I don’t have any food allergies.”
“It’s great that I won’t kill you, but I can go a step further and create something you’d actually want to eat.”
“No anchovies,” I told him.
“Be there at six, Freckles.” He looked at me once he reached the door. “Don’t bother bringing a nightgown. I like it when you sleep naked.”
My focus and desire to stay at work disappeared in a poof after that. Luckily, the curious residents started pouring in after church to make the time go by faster.
