She couldn’t help it. She laughed. She laughed hard. “You’re too much,” she gasped while gripping the countertops and felt the tears streaming down her face.
“How is it you think this to be funny?” he towered angrily. His voice was deep and gravelly, “You lived with a man for three years and you’re in love with him and then you kiss me? You think you are funny?”
“No,” she sucked in a breath, “I think you are funny. Oh, dear god,” she wiped her face and grinned, “thank you. I needed the laugh.” She picked up the broom and started to sweep the floor, her shoulders still moving as she cleaned up. Every once in a while, she giggled aloud, aware he had not left the kitchen and he was frustrated by her merriment.
“Explain yourself,” he ordered her furiously.
“I don’t think I will,” she snif
