I looked over at Rachael, she was sitting down on the couch watching something on television. She was wearing some black skirt and that blasted white blouse I hated. Our daughter was at daycare until 530, we had the whole day to ourselves. I sat by the fireplace pretending to be reading one of my novels, but actually scrutinizing her outfit as she sat there. Really that shirt needs to go, the skirt, eh….it was ok. I tilted my head as I looked more closely at her. She was very pretty, just needed some help picking out some new clothes.
Rachael turned her head toward me, "what?" She raised her eyebrows obviously worried about what I had been thinking. I shrugged my shoulders, "nothing, really." She gave me one more look before turning away again. I laid my book down on the floor and went over to stand before her. She just sat there and looked at me. She started to say something, but she could tell by the look I was giving her that it would be better not to say anything ahelped Racha...
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