Duncan
It was hard to focus on cooking dinner with Cleovanna sitting at the table looking like an angel that fell from heaven. She stretched her long legs as she crossed them over. I couldn’t help but stare.
“Duncan, the pot is boiling over,” she said. “Do you need help?”
“No,” I said and turned back around and adjusted the stove. “Sorry, I was just distracted.”
“I see that,” she chuckled. “So, what’s the special occasion?”
“What do you mean?” I said nervously.
“You went out and got groceries for a special dinner and bought me a bouquet of my favorite flowers,” she said. “Katya insisted that I dress up, you took off to town, which you never do, and missed a meeting.”
“I knew you’d be suspicious,” I sighed. “But I swear, you’ll see when the time comes. We shoul
