“Lasagna.” “I love lasagna.” “I know.” “Where’s it from?” “Supervalu.” “Their own brand?” “Only one I can afford.” “That’s my favorite one!” “Yeah, Molloy, I know.” “So, you cook, you clean, you change nappies, you fix my car, you give me unlimited orgasms,” she teased. Stepping back, she snatched up her little Santa hat and slipped it into the pocket of her coat. “Keep this up and I might just have to hang onto you, Joey Lynch.” “Whatever you say, Molloy,” I chuckled, shaking my head.
