Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding
“Would you rather have real birds, feet buried in the sand?”
Susan sighed, watching the man buying lunch at the trailer beyond.
“Are you trying to distract me?”
“If I was trying to distract you, I’ll be heading you towards the bedroom.”
“If I wanted real flamingos, would you get them?”
“For you, darling, anything.”
She turned in her chair and looked at him. So handsome with his chiseled features and beach blonde hair. And his hands. She’d never known such magical hands.
“Anything in the world?”
Leaning over, he kissed her gently. “Anything.”
“Okay, then I want flamingos. A pair to keep in my garden.”
For a moment, he considered, pretty sure hijacking real flamingos was against the law. Besides, he’d never heard of captive flamingo except in zoos and he wasn’t much of a zoo fan.
He pulled her into his lap, lips caressing the soft skin of her neck. “How about a little before lunch fun?” His hands moved up her sides.
She wiggled. “You are trying to distract me!”
“Guilty as charged.”
She snuggled for a moment then rose, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside.