ONE ANSON
“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” she whispers, looking out the window through the lace sheers, as if she’s worried someone can see in.
We’re halfway through setup today on the vendor booths, and I came to check on her progress in the haunted house to see if she needs anything. Two arguments later, after I question whether she really needs more lights on the porch and whether or not we really need to get the fireplace working, we’ve ended up on the couch. Her in my lap and my arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer.