Reagan grinned before setting her cup down on her cart full of bone-white ceramics and wrapped her arms around her waist. “What did I do to get so lucky, huh?” Libby wiggled her eyebrows before planting a chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth. “You haven’t even gotten lucky yet.” Reagan squeezed her tighter. “I’m not sure I can handle any more luck,” she whispered against the shell of her ear. Running her fingers over the soft, newly buzzed hair at the base of her neck, Libby grinned. “Oh, come on. I’m sure you can handle me.” “Why don’t we go upstairs, and you can luck me as much as you
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