“I was hopeful.” He huffs out a sigh through smiling lips. “I love your weekend surprise more, though. It’s the bee’s knees.” “There you go again sounding like you’re from another era.” He lifts a single knowing eyebrow at me. “I seem to remember a beautiful dark-haired woman saying on Saturday evening that she likes the way I talk.” My head falls back as I laugh. “We’re something else, aren’t we?”
I hate you both.
