Ten minutes later, “Oh hell, I'm so full,” he groaned and looked at the remaining goodies on the small table between an old lampshade and a small vanity. Their breakfast was soft pancakes and berries, as warm as they would be in the sun, with maple syrup threaded on top. “I didn't tell you to eat all the pancakes.” Mary smiled, licking the rest of the syrup on her finger. "Yeah, but it remains my favourite breakfast, yet it has nothing at all to do with the food, if you know what I mean," he smirked. “I loved it because you were with me, because you and I were in the same room." It was odd how they transfer emotions that way, as if they couldn't quite accept how quickly they fell in love.
“Oh my God, boss, my playboy boss—”
“I'm your husband.”
She rolled her eyes, grinning. “My playboy
