“No. You look perfect, Cheyenne.” “Thanks.” I laughed. “This is not the outfit I planned on wearing, but given the blizzard, I decided against the sexy black dress and heels.” “You were wearing that sweater the night we had dinner at DiFiore’s,” he said. “Was I?” I slipped in the snow, and he caught me before I went down on my ass. “Whoa. You okay?” he asked. “Fine,” I said, recovering my balance and laughing a little. “You know how I love getting tipsy when it snows.” He laughed too, keeping his grip on my arm. “Right. I walked you home that night so you wouldn’t fall.” I giggled. “I fell
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