Stop thinking about her legs, Becker. “Take them off.” Her brows shot up, eyes widening as they found mine. “What?” She asked, laughing. “I can’t just take my shoes off.” She threw her arms up, gesturing to our surroundings. “We’re in an old, dirty warehouse.” “You act like you weren’t born and raised in an old, dirty town.” “Yeah, well,” she said, crossing her arms. “I wasn’t exactly working in the distillery or out raising cows on the outskirts, now was I? A little bit of a different setting when you’re the Mayor’s daughter.” She tried to smile, but a soft curse left her lips when she
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