“What if I said yes?” Kat propped herself on the breakfast counter.
Grant slipped a spatula under the edge of her omelet and flipped. “To onions? Too late.”
“No, to marriage.” She pushed dark bedhead curls from her furrowed brow.
“Oh, that. Co-ordinate benefits. Joint checking. Widow’s pension if you get lucky and I don’t.” He stopped in mid lift. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“The couple in Paris. That stupid game. I know you now.”
A burnt smell. “Don’t distract me.” Grant slid the eggs to a cherry red plate. He pivoted. “Then, kiss me, Kate.”
Monica's Monday Morning Flash 