Lauren sunk into his embrace and closed her eyes against the tears. They were up against a lot, not only a lot of people who were going to be awfully mad at them in short order, but also  in the days that were to come as they learned more about each other.  She sniffled the tears away and felt his warm hands on her body, through her hair, hearing him softly talk to her. She felt safe and soothed, and didn't want to get up ever. But she knew she'd have to eventually and so she sat up after a little while and smiled at him.<br/><br/>"Time for coffee and breakfast, Mister," she said and bent down to give him a peck and then she stood up, and put on her bra and panty.<br/><br/>"Turn on the water heater in the bathroom, please," she instructed as she sashayed out of the bedroom and headed to the kitchen. "We smell like the best little whorehouse in Texas."<br/><br/>Lauren was above all a pragmatist, it was hard not to be, growing up in a working class neighborhood and having the kind of parents that drove a kid to either give up and go down the same path, or striving to do better in life.  She put the kettle on and turned on the oven to reheat the biscuits, when the phone rang...<br/><br/>"The phone, Frankie!" She shouted at the bathroom door and then stared at the stubbornly ringing phone. This was likely not a good thing she knew as she watched Frank come out, towel around his lean hips, and a very serious expression on his face.