Tales Of Corwin

It was noon before they made it out to a restaurant. They got a booth at the Big Boy—breakfast all day—and Sandra watched Mark carefully. He had been an enthusiastic lover, but still: men’s feelings could be so easily hurt. Was he really taking her “no” in his stride, or was he hiding an injured heart? “You’re watching me,” he conjectured, “to see if my feelings are hurt, about your not wanting to get married, aren’t you?” Damn, he was sneaky. This wasn’t going to be so easy. “Please don’t worry,” he continued. “Honestly. I’m just so happy you’re here—and I missed you so much when you were away. Nothing else seems all that important right now.” He sipped on his orange juice. “Of course, now, if you’d like to soothe my hurt feelings, I can think of several ways—“ “Cool your jets, pastor,” she protested. “You might at least give me a chance to catch my breath.” “Oh, I didn’t mean right here in the Big Boy,” he said with a grin. “The church really would fire me for that. How about—“ “Just stop now,” she said