I didn’t like that Ruby Grace was on my mind, that when I was playing cards with my brothers on Saturday evening, I thought about the way her hair smelled as she sat on that saddle in front of me. I didn’t like that when I saw her at church, prim and proper in her lavender dress, I thought about how much I liked her better in the jean shorts and tank top she’d worn. And I definitely didn’t like that when I woke up on Monday morning, I had a hard-on the size of a sledge hammer after having a dream about her. I wanted her off my mind. She was someone else’s fiancé. She was also nearly ten years
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