“You really don’t have an iron?” Laurel held up the black dress that had cost her half a month’s salary and looked at her reflection in the only mirror in Cade’s house, the one over the dresser. There was a tiny medicine cabinet in the bathroom but it hardly qualified as a mirror.The one-bedroom cottage barely held him, much less the both of them. Laurel had agreed to his outlandish plan only because she couldn’t come up with a better idea.Hah. Who was she kidding? She was here because he hadn’t... given her a choice.“Surely there’s somewhere else you can stash me where I’ll be safe. I need a mirror. I need room to move. And so do you. We’re both going to be miserable.”He shrugged out of his shirt, leaving him in a white T-shirt and khaki pants. T-shirts did nice things for him, or maybe he did nice things for T-shirts. She forced herself to look at his face, rather than the long, lean muscles of his arms and shoulders or the hints of rippled abs hiding under the white cotton.“If I need something ironed, I go over to Dad’s.”Laurel tore her gaze away from his abs.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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