“Moody Six DIABLO’S “WAY” TURNED OUT to be the ultimate test of Edwina’s patience. For the next two days he put an entirely new spin on the word tension. He was brusque and remote. He barked out commands like a marine DI, even going so far as to suggest that Edwina wash and wax his bike as the other old ladies did. “Got some mud on those rims,” he announced late the following afternoon as he pulled a beer from the six-pack he had cooling in the river. He settled back against a bigleaf maple, pop...ped the top, and took a swig. He’d barely lowered his arm and wiped his mouth before he was pointing Edwina toward the mud-spattered bike. “Spokes could use some elbow grease too.” Edwina drew the line at that. “I don’t do spokes,” she told him flatly. “However, I’d be happy to run the bike into the river if you’d like, spokes and all.” He took a deep pull from the beer can, flashed her a scowl, and then settled his gaze on the river. A prince, she thought, I’ve finally found my prince.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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