She slipped into his now empty arms, gently wrapping her arms around his torso. * * * "I appreciate it, baby girl. But I'm alright."
She kissed his forehead, brushing her fingers through his hair gently. * * * He headed for the door, pushing it open with his foot.
A small laugh bubbles up in her throat. “Why, who did you think it was?” *** Arlo set the last box down, straightening up and stretching. “We did it!”
She kissed his sternum. “Don’t you have work today?” *** He kissed her forehead, holding her carefully. “You should get a massage.”
"Not unless your fully equipped," he replied, his voice turning somewhat professional as he spoke about the cameras. "I am. Lighting can reallyyyy make or break a photo.'
"Protests still. They aren't fun to watch, but the photos are meaningful." *** "But that's too much effort."
"Are they violent at all?" Val asked, sitting up slightly. * * * He frowned. "I would offer to do it, but I worry I'd do more harm than good."