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Chapter Eighteen

Author: Louise Dawn
last update Last Updated: 2021-12-21 06:00:55

After opening the door, Chantal forgot to breathe. His solid build took up most of her brightly lit porch. Thanks to the humidity and soft rain, his t-shirt clung to a chiseled frame. No armor, just warm skin. Chantal resisted the urge to reach out. Her gaze traveled up to his face and froze. Set in a harsh grimace, his expression savage, Gage looked ready to go to war. 

“Your neck.”

“I know… it looks worse than it feels. Come in.”

Chantal stepped aside, yet he didn’t budge. 

“I can see every fucking finger mark.”

“Fun times.” She focused on the pitter-patter of drops bouncing off the gutters. 

“Jesus, Chants. This isn’t a joke.”

“Believe me, I know.” Chantal walked to the small kitchen and picked up her glass of wine. 

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