It took her a minute to figure out where she was and then she sank into a smile. It wasn’t a dream. Peter had carried her from the couch in the early morning, taken her to his bed, and made love to her again. This time it was slow and achingly tender. The urgency was replaced by soft and total adoration. The warmth of the love they shared surrounded her as she reached out to touch the side Peter slept on. He had obviously gotten up to make the bacon that filled the house with its aroma along with the sound of the Police. Good Lord, did anyone still listen to the Police? Not even the alluring sounds of Sting, but old-school Police. Sam came around the corner wearing Peter’s shirt and trying to fluff her bedhead into something appealing. Many women would go in the bathroom, brush their teeth or their hair. Some supercrazy women might even put on makeup before walking out to see a lover. Sam decided she wasn’t most women. She wanted to be with Peter more than she cared about her hair.
