by John Grisham
The Thursday before Mitch was due to start work they drove over to the Quins’ house for dinner.
“Now that you’ve spent next year’s income on furniture,” Mitch said on the way there, “what next?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Abby said. “How about babies?”
“Hey, slow down. Let me get settled first!”
Abby laughed and sat back in her seat. Mitch admired her legs.
“When did I last tell you you were beautiful?” he asked.
“About two hours ago.”
“Two whole hours! How thoughtless of me!”
“Right. Don’t let it happen again.”