“You got hurt trying to help me, and I appreciate it. I am sorry you got beaten up, though.”“Uh, yeah, it’s fine. I mean, no, it’s okay,” ... stammered.“May I sit down?” Those blue eyes, filled with concern, gazed back at me.“Uh, yeah, sure.” I scooted over a bit to make room for him to sit.“I’m Daniel,” he said, offering his hand.“Brian,” I said as I took his hand. His grip was strong, but his skin was soft and warm. I held his hand, and my breathing quickened at his touch. Dammit, what was. He worried for a bit while Anne used his phone to call in a lunch order from a local takeaway. He continued to worry while they waited for it to arrive, even though Anne carried the conversation.When the food arrived, they put it on Stan's coffee table and sat in his comfortable armchairs to eat it. Anne had ordered more than enough, and they ate well. Satisfied, Stan got up and took the leftovers into the kitchen, then returned with a bottle of wine from the fridge.He poured a glass each and. More

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