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He rubbed circles around my legs, threading figure-eights between my calves while James watched from the door with folded arms and an appraising look. “He really likes you.” “That’s good, because I like him, too.” I bent down to let Mr. Kitty rub his face on my hand. “He’s a sweetie.” And I would never have admitted it, but I wasn’t just talking about the cat.
A Storm to Remember: Short, Sweet Romance
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