I touched her confectionary creation, and she told me off.
Slapping my hands and cursing in her own unique fashion.
No one talked to me that way.
I liked it.
I liked her cake even more. So, I took her to Italy to bake for me.
I should have asked her first, but I had a feeling she’d say no.
I brought her cat, though—that should count for something.
Now, I just need to convince her to stay.
And forget that little word.
Kidnapper.
I’d prefer lover.
But we’ll wait until she doesn’t want to kill me in my sleep.