And while it was a helluva lot of fun, at least for me, that probably doesn’t qualify as a great romance.’ ‘So what do we have?’ ‘We like ea...h other. That’s what we have. At least, it’s what I have. Because I like you, Deborah Nicole. I like you, well, even more now that we’ve kissed, and that feels nice.’ They gazed at one another until Debbie bit her lower lip, took a deep breath, then got up and moved over to stand between Mike’s outstretched legs. Neither said a word. Wrapping her fingers. Through the window, I could see a full moon rising just above the trees. Finally, I turned my head towards Tristan.“I don’t know about you but I am famished. I’m a great soup maker and made a pot of mushroom barely soup yesterday--want some?” I asked.“That would be great,” Tristan answered, getting up on his elbow. “I only had that croissant at the café and yes, I’d say I worked up an appetite.” He leaned over and kissed me lightly. “If you make soup the way you write stories, I’m in big. " You know you want it or you wouldn't have even showed it to me in the first place you little slut," I yelled at her.With that, I grabbed her hands firmly and d**g her inside with me, locking the door behind us. She struggled against me and I got behind her and pushed her into my room and threw her down on the bed. She looked up at me and pleaded with me to please let her go home. I again called her a little slut and a fucking cock tease. She exclaimed that she was married and didn't want to. ’ ‘Really? Oh…’ She tilted her head back to look up at the ceiling. ‘Wow. Would you just look at all those exposed beams? Whoever did this barn conversion did a fantastic job.’ Used to this reaction, Melissa nonetheless experienced an inner glow of pride. And a chatty customer, her favourite kind. She’d learned to live with visitors who looked around in stony silence but it was lovely when someone appeared genuinely enthusiastic. ‘That would be my husband.’ ‘You did the conversion yourselves?’.