“This time he had scribbled down several words on pink Post-Its, words that rhymed with arrow and Beretta and gun and Rhea. He had been careful to return the bullet-ridden rental and drive up in a different car (the Avis people had not been pleased, to say the least), hoping they wouldn’t nuke him the moment he pulled into their driveway.He convinced himself he was here because it was worth another try, that people could overcome centuries of conditioning, these were modern times, and witch-hunt...ing was just silly.But the reality was, he couldn’t get the trigger-happy jerk out of his head. That’s why he’d come back. Her “oh, greats” and “shut ups” were actually kind of funny. And that hot little figure she had wasn’t bad, either. And he loved the pointy little chin. At six-four, he was taller, but he didn’t tower over Rhea the way he did with most women.Worst of all: He couldn’t imagine killing her. He’d liked her right away (insanity!), even if she had shot him in the ass.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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