Travis’s eyes lift, and a laugh erupts from his belly. He elbows one of his cronies. “Get a load of this.” I follow his gaze and understand why that vein in Davis’s temple always looks like it’s on its last nerve. Reese is strutting her stuff across the bar top like it’s her own personal stage. Beef stares up at her, his eyes grazing over her long, long legs. In any other scenario, I’d probably fight back a smile over the fact this girl doesn’t give a shit. She’s star power incarnate and has my small town slack-jawed and gaping. But she’s in hiding, she’s in trouble, and most importantly,
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