Isabella Johnson

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her arms around him, burying her face against his shoulder. His arms closed around her, enveloping her in the spicy cherry scent of incubus. “Thank you for sticking with me through all this crap,” she mumbled into his shoulder, her voice quavering with unshed tears. “Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, his tone so gentle she almost cried again.
Unleash the Storm (Steel & Stone, #5)
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