So, let’s make this a little interesting… a race. If I win, then you have to polish every saddle and strap of leather of Byron’s, including all brasses and buckles. Oh, and every one of my many pairs of boots.”“And if I win?” I asked, already aware of what I wanted.“What would you like Jack… name it?”“A kiss.”She flushed red. “Fine. Count of three- one- two….”She wouldn’t even give me that three. She was off.
LeeAnn Whitaker, Never Another You
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