Worried that Carlos was tired, Debbie got off from his back.
“You’ve worked all day. I don’t want to wear you out in the evening too.”
Carlos pulled her into his arms and whispered, “Don’t worry about me. I can carry you hand still show you a good time. I can prove it to rene
“Stop it.” Debbie covered his mouth with her hand.
Carlos pulled her hand away and kissed her on the lips.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt“What? Can’t I say this stuff to my wife?”
“Maybe. And maybe you should be locked up for saying things Like that.”
“Just think about how lonely you’d get if I were put in prison. Not a good idea. You’d missway too much.”
“You’re so modest!” she giggled. He was right. She was getting a bit tired.
The rain was starting to cdown in earnest. It was drizzling and their hair was starting to get wet. They ducked under an overhanging roof, trying to stay dry. Carlos took off his overcoat and spread it over her head.
Debbie pulled it off again.
“No. This is your favorite overcoat. And very expensive. I can’t let you do this. It’LL get ruined.” She knew how much Carlos liked that particular article of clothing.
Carlos put it back over her head.
“I can always buy a new coat. I don’t want you to get sick.”
He was so considerate. Debbie was enormously moved. What was happening reminded her of a song which goes, “For the rest of my life, I want only you, for better or worse.”
If Emmett knew Carlos had protected Debbie from the rain with his favorite overcoat, he would have marveled at how important Debbie was to Carlos. He already thought of Carlos as Debbie’s slave, and that would have proven it even more. That was something new to Emmett, and he figured that bending over backwards for someone wasn’t healthy. But then again, he had never been in love, at least not that kind of deep, enduring love, so he wouldn’t know until he fell that deeply.
The rain was getting heavier. Worried that Debbie might be cold, Carlos called his assistant to ask him to pick them up.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmThe next day, Debbie didn’t show up downstairs until eleven, stilt yawning.
The first thing she saw was Valerie’s grim face. Standing next to
Valerie was Megan, who waited on her like a maid.
“Grandma,” Debbie said.
“So you still know to get up? Do you know what tit is?” Valerie berated her, pounding her cane on the floor.
Debbie poured a glass of water for herself and took out her phone to check the time. It was eleven o’clock.
“I’m sorry. I still haven’t gotten over the jet lag.”
The old lady snorted loudly, refusing her explanation.