Page 4 of Snowfall
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“The only night I have free this week is Friday. Would that work?”
“You’re a busy woman?”
“Insanely,” she sighs.
“Friday it is. I’ll pick you up. I know where you live,” I tease.
“It’s a date.” She slides out of the truck.
“Yeah, it fucking is,” I mutter to myself as I watch her strut away in killer heels, a tight-ass skirt, and come-fuck-me curves.
Dead man drooling.
