’ ‘What son?’ asked Roding. " Ruth stood with drawn brows; she was trying to recall. His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. Lucy looked at the stains on the threadbare carpeting to distract herself, embarrassed to her core. She nuzzled his chest and he breathed deeply of the scent of her Finesse conditioner. Kind of knows it, too.
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