Shirtless.
And then I made them some iced tea because they were on the verge of passing out.
Believe me, they’re not going to remember anything else.
Willa:
Omg you’re the WORST.
Lincoln:
And yet you married me.
Willa:
I can hear your smugness all the way over here.
Lincoln:
Good, then it came through. Now tell me where my wife is living so I can haul my shit there.
Willa:
Um. No.
Lincoln:
Wtf do you mean, no?
Willa:
I mean, there’s no way in hell you’re living with me.
Lincoln:
Afraid that’s not an option, snookums.
We’re married, remember?
You know, that little event you attended this afternoon before bailing like you just robbed a bank?
Willa:
I have, unfortunately, not forgotten.
Lincoln:
Well, I hate to break this to you, but we’re going to have to cohabitate unless you want this little shared felony discovered before you can even apply for the grant.
Willa:
Obviously I don’t!
Lincoln:
Then what’s the holdup? You want to move in to my apartment instead?
I just figured you’d want to be as close to the farm as possible for wrangling your chickens and glaring at berry bushes before sunrise.
