Carli Hubbard

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It was that word “nice” that frustrated me. It wasn’t a bad word, but to me it didn’t feel like a good one. I’d always been called a “nice” guy. It didn’t matter the context—with friends, with women, with strangers—I was always “nice.” Again, not bad, not good—just there.
Swift and Saddled (Rebel Blue Ranch, #2)
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