theresa goodwin

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“Okay,” I said, setting the clean sauce pan back on the stove. “I just need a couple minutes to—” But then I couldn’t speak, because Ellie’s arms suddenly twined around my waist, her hands slipping beneath my untucked shirt. I went completely still. Her palms slid over my abs, making them clench. I swallowed, still unable to find words. Was this a dream?
Taste (Cloverleigh Farms, #7)
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