“I… I… I don’t know.” Carly stammered as Sam moved in front of her, holding the brunette’s shoulders. “H-how do you know?” Carly asked...uneasily, meeting Sam’s intense blue gaze.The blonde’s eyes flicked down to Carly’s lips and back to her eyes, Sam running the tip of her tongue over her lips. Carly found herself mirroring Sam’s actions, petrified in place with uncertainty. Carly’s eyes flickered shut as Sam leaned in, her breath feathering the brunette’s face before their lips met in a gentle. It was almost one o'clock now, and she would have to begin the preparations for supper before long. She was having a special dinner for Roger-- crablegs made with mushrooms and sour cream and wine--not for any special reason, just because she loved him. Of course, she didn't feel much like going through the prosaic chores of cooking on this warm afternoon; what she really felt like doing... The doorbell began to chime.Now who can that be? Diane wondered, rising. I hope it's Mr. Comstock. He. More

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