Page 7 of Mad Love

“Good,” he volleys back, the smirk never leaving his face.

“Are we done here?”

“Well done. Like an egg boiled until it cracks done.”

I almost smile. Almost.

“Give your number to Granger, please.” I back up, and giving him a small wave, I do smile this time. “See you later, eggplant-a-gator.”

“Yeah, sure, talk a while, crockie.”

Crockie?

God, we’re cheesy. But I would rather have cheesy than his anger. There’s no need to be angry over not being able to get it up when there are more important things in life, like finding closure for families of missing children.

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