You know, you could ask Preacher to come up with some meals that don't stir up that heartburn so much…." "Why would I do that? He's a dream in the kitchen." "Well, I've asked him for some low-fat meals. He was very agreeable, for Preacher. I've put on some weight since I got here." He lifted his glasses to his forehead and peered at her lower half. "Hmm," he said. "You did not just do that!" "Did I say a word?" he asked, letting his glasses drop into place. She hmmphed and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. "Quit complaining about your weight," he said, rubbing a hand over his big belly. "At least you have the advantage of giving birth to most of yours." She lifted a mean little eyebrow. "You could give up that whiskey you have at the end of every day. That might help with the heartburn." "Melinda," he said gravely, "I'd rather have needles in my eyes.
( Robyn Carr )
[ Temptation Ridge ]
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