She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife
The couple next to us snorts.
Mason's hands go soft.
His ego audibly does not.
"Soft hands," I repeat, delighted. "Steering wheel."
"One more word and I'm withholding the ginger chews."
"You'd never. You drove forty minutes for those."
"It was thirty-five actually, it’s not a big deal, I don’t know why everyone keeps acting like it is."
That peaks my interest, but I have to focus on what Marisol’s saying.
We get through the counterpressure section, and okay, fine, the notepad earns its keep, because he gets the double hip squeeze right on the first try while half the room is basically giving their partners a bad massage.
Bab Populer