Sometimes twice a night, he said. Sheriff Christopher glared up at me. Love at first sight, she said, softly. Micah appeared in the doorway.
He pressed his cheek against mine and whispered, Please, please, please, over and over, and between each please he kissed me, a light touch of lips; please, kiss, please, kiss. He might be a prejudiced, woman-hating, good ol' boy, but he was a cop, too. It made me smile. It hurt, sharp and immediate, and I was left gasping and staring up at his face.
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