Happy's eyes scanned the thin newspaper in front of her, soaking in the words scattered across the large page. With her free hand, she scooped another forkful of pancakes into her mouth.
But suddenly, she could feel Toby's gaze on her. Though he knew it annoyed her, he tended to do that. She repressed an eye roll.
Not looking up, she grumbled, "What?"
He grinned in her peripheral vision. "You are my sunshine."
Her eyebrows furrowed, confused. "What?"
And then his voice started to pick up a more airy tone. "You are my sunshine..."
She raised her glare to match his. "What are you doing?"
Unfortunately for her, he was now singing. "My only sunshine..."
"Toby-"
"You make me happy..."
"Stop."
He was such a terrible singer, his notes clearly off key. "When skies are grayyyy..."
"Is a punch to the mouth what'll get you to shut it?"
Toby frowned, promptly closing his mouth. Raising his coffee cup to his lips, he said, "I was just brightening our morning with some tunes."
"Couldn't have just turned on the radio?"
"Serenading you was more romantic."
Happy rolled her eyes, flipping the page in her newspaper. "Try irritating."
His voice was partially muffled as he talked into his mug. "A guy tries doing something for his wife and look where it gets him."
She pondered for a moment. Watching as he downed more pancakes than he was able to swallow, she gave a small sigh. Sometimes she really hated how endearing she found his attempts at romance. "You know, doc," she said slowly, putting the paper back on the countertop, "there are other ways to please your wife besides horrible singing."
He raised his brows incredulously. "What do you mean?" he asked through a mouthful of pancakes.
Her shrug was small but somewhat playful. "Meet me in the bedroom?"