(It stands for One Of A Kind. Just like that time I spent looking at a recipe that called for EVOO and I spent hours, days even, speculating what incredible, amazing new food EVOO must be that I hadn't even heard of it only to find out they meant Extra Virgin Olive Oil. I kid you not.)
Ben is trying really hard here and I should be letting him off the hook. Sometimes he forgets we were friends before we were married. That would be dumb. He's concerned that I haven't been sleeping at all and wants to arrange for some indulgences, as if he's lost his mind and is falling back on weird lists from a magazine we probably don't read. I'm not exactly the most predictable, typical girl out there. I make no apologies for that or for what you're about to read.
Massage?
I don't want anyone I don't know touching me (snort).
Manicure?
I can do it myself for pennies. I have like eight bottles of stuff in the drawer.
So that rules out the toes too? I forget what it's called.
A pedicure? No one touches my feet. Including you.
Want your hair done?
No. Loch cuts it. I'm good.
Uh. Facial? (we both snort and blush at the same time. Jesus, Gutter and Christ, we're perverted)
I'll pass. (More laughter.) You know, for now.
Hot bath?
It's the middle of the day, Benny!
So?
Maybe later.
Bridget, what would make you feel better?
I laugh again and cover my mouth with both hands.
Oh, well, shit. You could have said something sooner. We've just wasted ten minutes. You know what I could do to you in ten minutes?
I hope you'll take longer than that.
I meant the first ten. Don't you know me at all?
I was beginning to wonder the same thing!
Oh, just shut up and take off your clothes, Slowpoke.
Oh! Promise? I give him all the dazzling grins in the world and he laughs again.
I can't guarantee it will be slow for long.
We both blush again. I'm almost glad we didn't know each other as teenagers. There would probably be nothing left.
