The Real Housewives of Ink

Lydia and Kyle groaned in relief as their naked bodies fell into the hot water of the tub.

"Jesus Christ," Kyle moaned, his head leaning back into his fiance's. "Even with movers, moving is a pain in the ass."

"'Let's move back to L.A.', you said," Lydia teased. "'Be a good auntie to Jon,' you said."

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Kyle growled. "We still have to plan the wedding." He rubbed his head, as if in pain. "I love your sister, but goddammit, I don't want to run to your sister every single time we have a problem. I had that same issue with my ex and her mother. Fuck that!"

Lydia sighed. Kyle's ex-wife's mother had, from what she understood, been the catalyst for their breakup, sticking her nose in their marital issues. Kyle was a very private man. Hell, she hadn't found out about how deep in shit she'd left the shop until she started taking it over.

"She's making up for lost time," Lydia soothed.

"You were estranged for three years, not a millenium," Kyle groused.

Lydia sighed. "I know."