Her lips pursed as she blew the foam from her cappuccino. “And you’re late. Again.” A small burst of air raised a chestnut curl from in front of...hazel eyes as she huffed her displeasure. Tom looked down at his wrinkled shirt. “Just rolled outta bed,” he drawled as he tucked the crumpled linen of his shirt back into his slacks. His slow, crooked grin revealed a devilish face full of mischief as he leant across the table to kiss her cheek. “Oh god, don’t kiss me,” she grumbled. “I don’t know. As it turned out that summer was a hot and horrible summer. Mary, a friend of my wife’s suggested that she should work with her husband, Phillip, to make art together (I didn't know about this). My wife was reluctant, and didn't commit to the concept. Later we were invited to their house for a get together -- our k**s would play with their k**s and we could chat. Remember now, I didn't know what had transpired between the wives. I did notice the one time that my wife went in their kitchen. More

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