Faye Errington

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“Don’t be embarrassed,” I said, trying to smooth things over. “We all need to come.” Memphis released a strangled groan-sigh combo, letting me know I failed to ease his worry. “At first, I thought it was part of the amenities at Casa de Memphis, but then I remembered you weren’t expecting me last night.”
Smoke in the Mirror (Road to Blissville, #5)
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