Sam walks down from room
#35. Most of the time if Sam Axe is wondering in to a bar this early in the morning it’s because he’s got too much blood in his alcohol content. Or, he’s got a smashing hangover and wants a beer and tomato juice to counter it with aspirin chasers. This morning he wants to get a special lady food.
Of course he
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She's wearing the shirt he'd discarded along with her underwear, bare feet brushing the cool floor.
No one warned her that sneaking up on a Navy SEAL is a bad idea, and she wraps an arm around him. "I'd say she's got no taste, but I have the feeling making fun of bar's a bad idea." She pecks the back of Sam's neck and sits down beside him.
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"Yeah, I think she's making fun of me I'm covered. I think better when I can breath down there."
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"She must not like the show. I, however, love it." She smirks. "Really?" There's a joke about his brains being in his pants pocket, but she doesn't make it. But it's obvious that she feels better. Possibly because she's quietly sizing him up for father material. She spins around on her stool, anyway.
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