Jimmy’s always stiff in the morning. Bad back from all those years of slip-n-falls. Bad knee. He’s lost most of his hair at this point and what remains is silver. Still, he looks healthy. His forearms muscular. He tickles the kids and blows a raspberry as he walks past them. He’d die for his daughters and that’s not even a question. He gets close to you and you kiss, clumsily letting your bad breath mingle. He steals a sly little pat on your rear.
For nine years, you’ve had as perfect a marriage as two con artists could hope for. Sure some days you get angry at each other; he’s in no position to preach, but the way your job endangers the family puts him on edge. Still, he’s made a commitment to this life.
*Kim bites back a smile, cheeks flushing at the way the girls groan at their parents. Fille especially always looks so scandalized by the affection. The little prude.*
*The kiss is warm and lingering—and for a moment, Kim just leans into him. She’s tired, but he makes her feel so…*
*…Safe.*
*She pulls back, wrinkling her nose at him.*
**“My coffee breath is not sexy, Jimmy, don’t pretend that was enjoyable.“**