Chloe took off her sweater and hung it up. Take a seat. She said as she poured beans in a grinder. What? She said as the grinder finished. I said why...are those framed paintings sitting against the wall? She had an Ansel Adams, that one with the navy boy dipping his lady in New York and a diner painting. All in nice frames. Oh, well I want to hang them but I am a total idiot with tools. The last time I hung something it tore out part of the wall. Oh you need to use the studs. The what? Do. The sander started whirring and he moved it across the desktop. ‘Here, want to try?’ ‘Sure,’ she said as she took the sander, making small circular movements on the desk. He moved behind her, her heart quickening as he put his hand on hers. ‘For the best finish you want long, smooth strokes. Like this.’ Damn. Who knew woodworking could sound so, so erotic! Their hands moved the sander back and forth on the desk. She felt a quick jolt of pleasure as the dust catcher on the vibrating sander. More

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