Catastrophe Queen

“Sounds wonderful!” She kissed us both on the cheek and left.

I slumped against the desk. “She’s exhausting,” I said quietly.

“She means well.” Mal propped her chin up on her hand and gazed up at me. “Are you sure you’re ready for me to move in?”

“Hurricane, I’ve been trying to get you to move in for a year.” I pushed hair from her eyes. “I understand why you couldn’t, but yes, I’m ready. Besides, you’ve got more things at my house than I do.”

“It’s not that bad!”

“It took me five minutes to find my toothbrush this morning.”

“It’s not my fault you never put it back in the pot.” Her red lips tugged up.

“I can’t find the pot. It’s surrounded by make-up and sprays that I don’t even know the function of.”

“The pot is on the damn wall. And you say I’m the dramatic one.”

“You are the dramatic one.” I tapped her on the nose. “You got one small cut from the broken mug this morning and declared that you were bleeding out.”

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

“Well,” I said dryly, “The giant crashing noise had already done it.”

“They were still wet, and they slipped out of my hand.” She sniffed. “That’s why I don’t do the dishwasher. Vacuuming is much safer.”

“Point taken. Next time you tell me to unload the dishwasher, I’ll do it. And keep you away from all other breakables in the house.”

She pouted.

“All that face does is make me want to kiss you.” I gently tugged on her lower lip with my thumb. “So stop it.”

She didn’t.

I leaned right down and kissed her, and she smiled against my lips.

God, she was adorable.

“I love you,” she said softly.

I cupped her face and kissed her again. “I love you, too, Hurricane.”