Less than a month later, Dante stood just out of earshot of Julie. He leaned against the archway between the kitchen and formal dining area where a ritzy buffet was laid out thanks to her. She was standing at the stove, one hand on her hip, the other holding a spoon as she stirred something with vigor that was bubbling away on the burner. A trickle of sweat beaded on her brow, one drop finding its way down her temple before she shrugged her shoulder and made it disappear right before exhaling a puff of air that blew her bangs off her forehead before they fell back down to stick in place again. A smile graced his lips as Blake made his way under his arm and wrapped himself around Dante’s middle.
"Can we keep her, Master?" Blake asked, sounding like a kid that had dragged home a stray cat.