Matthew and Stephanie chose the new coffee shop on High Street. He admired her soft brunette curls. She fancied his muscular bi-ceps.
‘We could get takeaway and go to the park,’ she suggested.
‘If you trust me,’ he laughed. ‘I could be an axe murderer.’
‘So could I,’ she grinned.
As they made their way to a secluded picnic table, he fingered the dagger in his coat pocket.
She caressed the pink-handled Smith and Wesson in her handbag.