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... curled up on the couch, pulling a blanket over her lap. The clock on the wall kept ticking, and the faint sound of the wind outside brushed against the windows.
Her thoughts drifted again—to his deep voice, the way he looked at her when he was amused.
Still, her eyes kept flicking toward the door, listening for footsteps, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, anything that would tell her he was finally home.
The TV played quietly, but Bella hardly noticed it. Her ...
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