”“Coming down or going to write up there?”She looked comfortable, draped along a branch, her legs stretched out on another.“No. Maybe we could...build a treehouse though?”“Maybe you could.”“Maybe I will.” She made a face at me, then burst out laughing. Shaking my head, I set up my easel and went to work. Eventually, she climbed down and sat on the swing, her tablet on her lap, fingers dancing on the screen.It was quiet. Not silent, though. It was the good kind of quiet. I could hear the leaves. More like a series of lovers.”“Oh, that makes it SO much better!” I said sarcastically. “Just what happened to cause you to lose your sanity, and just why would you ever think that I would allow this?”She was getting obviously frustrated, but pulled herself together.“I haven’t lost my mind. It’s a known fact that women can have sex more often, and that men simply can’t keep up their own end. Surely, you’ve noticed how many times I’m ready to go again and you can’t get it up? Hell, sometimes you. More

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