Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)

by Sarah Adams

This time I grab his bicep and haul it down. Given that he’s twice my size and I haven’t exercised anything more than my wit in years, I know he’s letting me do it.

This is what I get for needing water. I thought by now I had trained my body to not need it anymore—to live on a strict coffee-only diet—but no. The little weasel decided to defy me and demand rehydration.

I sigh and open the cabinet above the stove and pull out the salt and pepper shakers. “Maddie says they’re a married couple and deserve the privacy of their own house.