In denial. In love. Doesn't matter which, really.

(She'll read it later. Her curiosity won't let her do anything less. And when she does, she'll save it. And if it finds its way into Michael's hands at some point, the narration wouldn't be terribly surprised.)

"Mmm," she purrs, smiling, the paper completely forgotten for the moment. "Hot tub, I think. Kind of -- traditional for us, don't you think?"

She reaches up to run her fingers through his hair, her eyes full of her heart.