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Caught her red-handed. Or should I say black-gloved?
She was just closin� the door behind her. �Welcome home, Logan.� I walked in, dropped the duffel bag on the bed. �Aw, Marie, you shouldn�t have.� Not even an hour back and there�s cigars in my humidor, Jack Daniels on the table next to my easy chair, fresh tube of toothpaste in my bathroom. She lingered. I took the hint. �Wanna get me a glass, tell me what�s on your mind?� She gave me that gorgeous smile. The one that makes it hard to breathe. �Don�t go anywhere.� Down, boy. She�s Bobby�s.
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