" What are you saying, Tara? Nine years ago means you were like eight yearsold?" gulped Craig, pushing away from her and hurrying over to her mirror."...ou?re taking me out to brunch like an eight year old girl?" Well I couldn?t exactly take you out like an eight year old boy withthose curls, could I," teased Tara, rolling her eyes and walking over andwrapping a sash around his waistline before knotting a big bow in theback. "And now you look like just another adorable Pucciarelli girl." Oh. She seemed to light up under all the glances of obvious admiration."I have never had breakfast inside one of these. This is just so damn cool," she said. I suppose there were people who had never eaten inside a fast food restaurant, but I sure as hell didn't know any of them."Glad you are enjoying it. To be honest I'm enjoying the company. You do know that most of this attention we are getting is because of you?" I said."Bull, these are your friends," she said. Then a second later she added,. Getting' drunk with a bunch of your loser buddies and wakin' up with tribal tattoos..." Oh, you're talkin' about Brody now." Brody was the smart-assed janitor that took care of one of our buildings on campus. He hits on anything with two X chromosomes. He likes to make suggestive remarks about him being a REAL man."Yeah. Brody. Tribal tattoo. What tribe, Susan?" The Alabama Tribe of the Great American Dumbass," I said."A girl's mom is not supposed to have tattoos," Cindy opined.I asked. She sighed, so he hadn’t forgotten she needed to be punished for taking care of herself while he was away without permission. He knew how much she loved to watch him, to see his face and look into his eyes. One look from him could have her quivering like jelly, set the butterflies loose or her heart pounding.All she could do was listen and wait, her heart pounding, searching for any noise, any hint of what he was about to do, she heard him open a cupboard? A box? She wasn’t quite sure. She then.