She would make him a little breakfast. He would eat well today. He would taste her today. She felt her face blush. What if he was delayed? With a sigh... she put everything back. She nearly danced her way over to the den, her bare feet skipping lightly over the woven rugs and bare wood floor of the mountain cabin. Yoga? Not today. She would read. Deep breath. She settled into the soft leather sofa and picked up one of her texts, opened it to where she left off. The book smelled like academics,. When it got to Saturday morning, I was glad I had nothing booked. I had, in fact, forgotten about Katryn. Is that Freudian, or what?I was sitting with a cup of coffee, having eaten my breakfast toast, trying to decide if I had enough motivation to tidy the workshop and hone edged tools, or whether it was a ‘go for a walk and forget work’ Saturday.When the door-bell rang, of course, I remembered. There was Katryn, every bit as attractive (and distracting) as before ... possibly, probably, more. More

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