Grace
“Did you buy mince?” I ask James as we stand outside Isobel’s school gates. I’m planning to cook my renowned shepherd’s pie with baked beans in for tea; a meal which earned instant approval from Izzy the first time she tried it.
“I thought you were buying it.”
“No. I asked you.”
“Well I didn’t.” He shrugs. “Sorry.”
“No you’re not.”
“You’re right. I’m not.” He looks hot as hell wearing his grey suit and a delicious smirk. Images of ripping them from his body take over my mind…and then I remember where we are and want to slap myself across the face for thinking inappropriate thoughts.
“We’ll take her to McDonald’s. Kids love McDonald’s.”
“Shepherd’s pie is healthier.”
“We’re the cool uncle and aunty. Let her parents worry about her vegetable intake.”
I can’t help but smile.
