"Well, is this really the kind of guy you expect creativity from?" Kathy asked, tentatively tucking her bare feet under his thighs. Her sandals left by the door because who wore shoes inside the house? That was rude.

But Ezra was tactile and Kathy was, too, and she was trying to find little ways to comfort and touch that wouldn't push.

"But anyway, you've showered, you have cookies, and you've got the promise of lunch and ice cream. And delightful company, obviously. Your day can only improve."