“This way,” he said. With each step through the airport, words pounded in Khai’s head. What. Had. His. Mom. Been. Thinking. His mail-order bride was nothing like he’d expected— which was a younger replica of his mom, complete with the matching sweat suits and the sriracha and hoisin sauce she always kept in her purse. That, he could have handled. But this girl, Esme, looked like a Playboy bunny. She lacked the trademark platinum hair, but the rest of her fit the description. What did you do with a Playboy bunny? Aside from sex. Not that he was thinking about sex. Except, clearly, he was
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