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Chapter Twenty-seven

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

 

 

 

 

It would probably be completely unnecessary for me to say my weekend at Ezra’s was amazing, but it was. It totally was.

We spent most of it inside, trying to christen as many rooms as we could—double-christening a few. And when we weren’t sexing it up, we’d sit out on the back terrace, wrapped in a blanket together, enjoying the sunset. Or we watched movies, argued politics, heck, we even played a couple games of chess together. And I took a spin in his mammoth kitchen once or twice, whipping up a batch of chocolate chip cookies.

Nothing else in the world existed but us.

By the time Monday came around, we were both loath to return to reality, where we had to hide our relationship at work and pretend we barely knew each other.

When we returned to his light-blue Bentley in the garage—my purse and overnight bag with me—we were both unusually quiet and subdued. Ezra held my hand while he walked around to the passenger sid
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Lauren Michelle Taylor
Holy crap!!!
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