Chapter 34
Sara had not been impressed with his house on Marshall Street. She only came to love it later. But he had hardly given her the guided tour that first night. He barely had the time and concentration to get her from his front door to his bedroom.
Smiling, he reached into his cooler for a beer and sat down heavily on the blue and white sofa. If he concentrated, he could still hear her laugh—the slightly tipsy, slightly wanton sound always sent a shock down his spine to his toes. When Sara was happy, truly delighted, she had a laugh that would charm the birds.
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