KURT PUSHED A SLIVER of cheese against Farida’s lips. “Try some goat’s cheese with your croissant.”
She recoiled and made a face. “Goat’s cheese? No thanks.” Farida held up a jar of blackberry jam. “This is what I prefer.”
Laughing, he withdrew the cheese and replaced it with the rest on the saucer sitting on top of his marble kitchen counter. “You need to live a little, babe.”
“I think I’m fine without...” she rolled her eyes. “...goat’s cheese.” Balanced on a high-back stool, she hooked one leg behind the other and grinned at him. Kurt. Her man. Impossible to believe. She was intoxicated with love. Gosh, how did she get so lucky?
Kurt picked up a croissant from his plate, smeared some cheese on it and gobbled it up. Chewing, he watched Farida as she sliced into the poached eggs on he
