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There was also the vulnerability in her eyes, it pulled at something inside me. I wanted to protect her. To make her mine. It didn’t matter that I was probably quite a bit older than her. Something told me my baby girl needed that. Besides, as I was constantly telling Logan, our cheeky, arrogant little rookie. I wasn’t an old man. I was seasoned. I could be the best kind of seasoning for her.
The Pucking Wrong Man (Pucking Wrong, #4)
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