"Never underestimate the power of passion."
Eve SawyerJansen was fast asleep-and soundly for a change, dinner was simmering in the crock-pot on the counter, laundry had been folded and put away, the books had been balanced. Anrai sat in the bedroom reading one of his books and Laine slipped out onto the back porch before tugging on her worn in,
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She picked up pain-reliever to place it back in the medicine cabinet and the glasses (all three of them) to take back down stairs and put them in the sink. "Did you decide to have a party up in here while I was outside?"
That was exasperation not amusement in her voice.
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He considered retrieving the pill bottle, then decided to take some downstairs for Laine to take with dinner. "I wanted to make sure you'd be as comfortable as possible after your first ride in months."
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Not being able to stand the feel of sweaty clothes sticking to her any longer, Laine starts to peel out of her shirt. "And I'm not one of the horses, go give them a rub down."
There were times when she really found him insufferable. And insulting. She knew full well that her husband would never suffer the indignities of saddle soreness--hell, the son of a bitch didn't even need a saddle or a horse to ride. It grated in ways she couldn't even put words to. "I know how long it's been since I've rode."
The fact that she's already sore as hell wasn't helping her snappish attitude.
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