Pixie Perkins

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He strides away through the dim building, carrying a metal barrel right over his head with his now-bare hands. I don’t want to look at the way his arm muscles flex from the effort, but they’re kind of hard to ignore. Too bad that body is attached to the grouchy attitude. Just think of him like Donkey Kong—that big, angry gorilla who threw barrels in the old video game. The mental image makes me snort.
The Bluff (Love Stories in Sheet Cake, Texas, #2)
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