Free Hot Licks by Jennifer Dellerman Page B

fulfill his love language. Physical touch.”
    Annie snorted. “I told you so.”
    Melinda didn’t even blush. “Physical touch is more than sex, Annie. It can be as benign as holding hands.”
    “And holding hands leads to sex.”
    Gwen butted in before Melinda could argue on that.
    “So how do you know what another person’s language is, without asking them I mean.” Not that she was curious about a certain male that had been on her mind all morning long.
    Melinda tapped her fingers on the table. “Well. Again, generally speaking, watch what the other person does. If they have a tendency to give gifts, that might be their language. If they tell people of their appreciation for them, then words of affirmation might be their language. Or, in the case of my Andreas, and frankly I think in all my boys, if they like to hug or tend to clap each other on the shoulder in approval or appreciation, physical touch may top their list. It works not only with spouses, but in all relationships. With siblings, parents to children and between friends.”
    Gwen chewed over that as thoroughly as she did the rest of her sandwich, realizing she’d gone from feigned interest to consideration over the course of the conversation. She looked over at Annie who was transferring potato salad from one container to a fancier one for the guests. “So, Annie, does that mean yours is acts of service?”
    Annie let out a belly laugh. “Heavens no. That just happens to be my job. One I excel at I might add.”
    Melinda and Gwen shared a grin. “Behind Annie’s need to order us about, she’s an affectionate one, aren’t you, Annie?”
    Annie paused at Melinda’s question. “Maybe.”
    Gwen almost let out a chuckle, seeing where her boss was going. “So tell us, Annie. What would you rather have from Bob? A gift or a hug? For him to wash your car or tell you that he loves you? Or how about spending some quality time together?”
    Annie turned to face them, arms crossed over her ample chest. “All right, all right. The hug. A massage.
    Physical touch. That’s my love language.”
    Chin in her hands, Gwen smiled over at the
    housekeeper. “That’s lovely.”
    Melinda, eyes twinkling with mischief, added, “You naughty girl. Always wanting sex.”
    Annie’s face reddened all the way to the roots of her gray hair, but the amused glow in her own eyes belied any embarrassment. “Simply holding hands will do. And now this naughty girl has some guests to feed.” With that parting remark, she picked up the large tray of sandwiches and marched out the swinging double doors that divided the kitchen from the dining room.
     

Chapter Eight
    Dennis left after lunch. When Gwen had entered the crop shop in search of him, she found him sitting on one of the cots in the lounge, eyes closed, head back against the wall with an expression of pain across his face. Her advice to go home, get some rest and heal had been met with a fierce scowl and a male arrogant reply that he was just fine, thank you very much. So she’d given him three options.
    One, go home. Two, work in the office, or three, go out to inspect the fence. But if he choose the latter and ended up passing out or injuring himself, she would leave him there for the rain, wind and mosquitoes to torment.
    So maybe the latter course of action wasn’t completely true, but something in her expression must have convinced him otherwise because he left, grudgingly, shortly after.
    Dennis hated paperwork as much as she did.
    Now she was making her way through the reserve on her own, only, instead of taking the right trail which would lead her to the east fence-line, her feet pointed her straight ahead and to the clearing where the old cabin sat. Not that she was hoping Rome was on guard duty or anything.
    Nope. Not at all. Which meant she wasn’t bummed when Santos came into view.
    Halting at the edge of the clearing, Gwen watched his retreating back, pressing her lips together to hold back a bubble