Is My Banana Too Salty For You

I really didn’t mind… Gwen was a fantastic cook and I was pretty sharp in the kitchen and enjoyed cooking. Maggie had put a nice gammon joint in water to soak over night and I let that simmer for most of the morning and then made up a mango, ginger and clove sauce, whilst Emma prepared a large tray of diced root vegetables for roasting. When the meat was well boiled I wrapped it in foil with chunks of the fruit and some crystallised ginger, dowsed it with a glass of Stone’s Ginger Wine and put it into the oven on a slow heat, it could stay there for a couple of hours without coming to any harm. I had promised Caroline that I would run over and see her with the early plans for her London project and so fetched the Land Rover from the garden centre and drove across town to Bishopdown. She was really pleased with the way the garden looked now that it was almost completed, no garden is ever fully finished, there are always small changes and additions to be made every season, but there. He yells very loudly and curses like a sailor. I sit there trying to decide if I should laugh or apologize profusely when he looks down at me. His eyes, a bluish-green, ensnare me. I feel like I am drowning in the ocean. I lick my suddenly dry lips and I swear I taste salt as if I had really been in the ocean. He apologizes profusely and asks to buy me another cup of coffee. I hesitate slightly but I say yes. As he walks away I check him out. I hadn’t before because his eyes had hypnotized me. He has short curly honey brown hair and a nice lean body. He is about 6’5 and has a nice tan. He has the softest looking lips. The bottom lip plump, just ripe for kissing. I shake my head to clear it of those kinds of thoughts. He would never be into me so quit dreaming. He walks with confidence and authority. When he gets to the table I notice that everyone in the room is watching us. I ask him to join me and he accepts. I see looks of hatred and disappointment on all the female faces. We sat.
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