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“Your Son?” Mac Repeated.
Rachel hiked up her chin. “That’s right,” she told him. “My son.”
Still reeling from the shock of discovering Rachel had a child, Mac looked from her to the dark-haired boy in her arms and back again. Rachel’s son and his, Mac realized as he stared into eyes identical to his own.
He had a son. A son!
Suddenly shock gave way to temper as the reality of the situation hit him. He kept his eyes trained on Rachel’s face. And even though he already suspected he knew the answer, he asked her anyway, “How old is he?”
“He’s eighteen months.”
Mac didn’t have to be a math wizard to figure out that Rachel had been pregnant when he had left New Orleans. Had she known then? Doing his best to control the emotions slamming through him, Mac, said, “Which means that he’s mine. I’m his father.”
Dear Reader,
Ring in the New Year with the hottest new love stories from Silhouette Desire! The Redemption of Jefferson Cade by BJ James is our MAN OF THE MONTH. In this latest installment of MEN OF BELLE TERRE, the youngest Cade overcomes both external and internal obstacles to regain his lost love. And be sure to read the launch book in Desire’s first yearlong continuity series, DYNASTIES: THE CONNELLYS. In Tall, Dark & Royal, bestselling author Leanne Banks introduces a prominent Chicago family linked to European royals.
Anne Marie Winston offers another winner with Billionaire Bachelors: Ryan, a BABY BANK story featuring twin babies. In The Tycoon’s Temptation by Katherine Garbera, a jaded billionaire discovers the greater rewards of love, while Kristi Gold’s Dr. Dangerous discovers he’s addicted to a certain physical therapist’s personal approach to healing in this launch book of Kristi’s MARRYING AN M.D. miniseries. And Metsy Hingle bring us Navy SEAL Dad, a BACHELORS & BABIES story.
Start the year off right by savoring all six of these passionate, powerful and provocative romances from Silhouette Desire!
Enjoy!
Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
Navy SEAL Dad
Metsy Hingle
MILLS & BOON
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METSY HINGLE
celebrated her tenth book for Silhouette with the publication of The Baby Bonus. Metsy is an award-winning, bestselling author of romance who resides across the lake from her native New Orleans. Married for more than twenty years to her own hero, she is the busy mother of four children. She recently traded in her business suits and a fast-paced life in the hotel and public-relations arena to pursue writing full-time. Metsy has a strong belief in the power of love and romance. She also believes in happy endings, which she continues to demonstrate with each new story she writes. She loves hearing from readers. For a free doorknob hanger or bookmark, write to Metsy at P.O. Box 3224, Covington, LA 70433.
For Nancy Wagner, aka Hailey North
Friend and Cohort in Fun, Foolishness and Mischief
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
One
He was back!
Rachel Grant’s heart slammed against her chest as she stared at the back of the tall, dark-haired man in Navy dress whites standing at the nurses’ station. Barely able to breathe, she stood frozen outside of the hospital room she’d been about to enter. Lifting her gaze from the wide shoulders that spanned the military jacket, she noted the wave of jet black hair at his nape that defied the close-cropped style.
Sweet heavens, it was Mac!
But it couldn’t be Mac, she reasoned as she tried to quell her racing pulse. The last she’d heard, Lieutenant Commander Pete “Mac” McKenna was a million miles away in one of those foreign countries with an unpronounceable name doing his macho Navy SEAL thing. Besides even if Mac were stateside again, he wouldn’t return to New Orleans. Why should he? He’d made it painfully clear two years ago that a long-term relationship with her didn’t fit in with his plans. A sharp pain sliced through Rachel at the memory of what a fool she had made of herself over Mac McKenna. Even after all this time, her blindness where he had been concerned still smarted. Thank heavens for pride, she thought. It was all that had saved her from making an even bigger fool of herself and pleading with him not to shut her out of his life.
At the ding of the elevator Rachel gave her head a shake and dragged her thoughts away from the past. Dismissing the notion that the man was Mac, she chided herself silently for the foolish lapse. Of course the man wasn’t Mac. It had been the uniform and dark hair that had thrown her off. That and the bout of nerves she’d been battling since Alex had begun dropping hints about marriage. It was only natural that thoughts of marriage would cause her to think of Mac. After all, there had been a time not very long ago when she had hoped that he would be asking her to marry him.
She pressed a fist to her breast, hating the fact that even after more than two years, Mac’s not wanting her could still cause her pain. Irritated with herself, Rachel scowled. She had more important things to do than mull over her failed relationship with Mac McKenna, she reminded herself. Important things like her job—which included reassuring Mr. Goldblum about his gall bladder surgery in the morning. Snatching the patient chart and clipboard from the door, Rachel scanned the doctor’s notes.
“I’m looking for one of your nurses—Rachel Grant. I was told I could find her up here.”
The air backed up in Rachel’s lungs at the sound of that deep, rumbling voice. And for the space of a heartbeat she couldn’t breathe. Her heart racing, she swung her gaze back to the Navy officer. No! It couldn’t be Mac. Not now. Not after all this time.
“She’s probably in with a patient at the moment. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Then she does still work here?”
Dear God, it was Mac!
In her distress she must have made some sound, Rachel realized. Or maybe Mac simply had sensed her presence as he’d always had such an uncanny knack for doing in the past. Whatever the reason, Rachel stood frozen as he whirled around and looked in her direction.
“Rachel!”
She could feel the blood drain from her cheeks as she saw his face—the face that had haunted her for all those months after he’d gone. Too stunned to move, she simply stood there and stared at him. He hasn’t changed. The ridiculous thought flitted through her brain as he started toward her. Same stubborn jaw. Same sharp cheekbones. Same sexy mouth that had been able to make her toes curl when he smiled at her. The way he was smiling at her now.
“Rach, I can’t believe I actually found you,” he said, skimming his gaze over her like a jungle cat who was sizing up his next meal. Trapped in the intensity of his blue eyes, Rachel didn’t even realize Mac had reached for her until she found herself wrapped in his arms.
“God…it’s so good to see you again. And you look…you look wonderful.”
“I…so do you,” she replied, too shaken to even realize how lame the words sounded. And before she could register his intent, Mac’s lips were on hers. Warm. Gentle. Hungry. Familiar.
The taste and scent of him, the feel of his body pressed against hers after so long, struck some cold, empty place deep inside Rachel, a part of her that she had buried beneath an ocean of tears and heartache. The sound of the clipboard striking the tile floor echoed like thunder in Rachel’s ears. She jerked her mouth free.
She took one shaky step back. And then another. “The chart,” she murmured inanely. Feeling dazed, she stooped down to retrieve the patient chart and folder with less than steady fingers. As she did so, she attempted to marshal the emotions ricocheting through her.
“Here, let me get that for you,” Mac offered, flashing her one of those grins that did nothing to help her equilibrium.
When he knelt down beside her and began scooping up the papers that had fallen from her folder, Rachel stood. Finally the noises of the hospital managed to penetrate her senses. She glanced toward the nurses’ station and nearly groaned at the speculative looks being cast in her direction.
“Here you go,” Mac said, handing her the papers.
Taking the papers from him, she quickly shoved everything into the folder and hugged it and the chart to her. “Thanks,” she said, and nearly winced at how stiff and formal she sounded—particularly when the man had just kissed her.
“No problem,” Mac told her, and as though sensing her uneasiness, the grin tugging at his mouth faded. “I meant what I said, Rach. You have no idea how glad I am to see you. And you really do look good. Better than good, you’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”
“I see you found Ms. Grant,” the young nursing assistant who’d been manning the station desk addressed Mac.
He flashed the younger woman one of his megawatt smiles. “Yes, ma’am. I sure did. Thanks for your help.”
The other woman beamed. “Anytime.”
Noting the dreamy look on the younger woman’s face, Rachel beat back an unexpected stab of jealousy. She had no right to be jealous, Rachel reminded herself. She had no claim on Mac. She never had. Even when they’d been together, he’d never really been hers. The fact that she’d made the mistake of falling in love with him hadn’t been Mac’s problem. It had been hers and hers alone. Just as the unexpected dividend of their short-term affair had been hers alone. Her heart swelled as she thought of little P.J. and how much he had changed her life.
P.J.!
Panic shot through Rachel like a bullet as she stared at Mac, worried over the impact his appearance might cause on their lives.
“I’ll remember that, Kimberly,” Mac said, reading the woman’s name tag. “And thanks again.”
“Like I said, anytime, Commander,” she replied, and after a brief nod to Rachel, she hurried over to the nurses’ station where a phone line was ringing.
Commander? Rachel yanked her attention to the gold bars on Mac’s uniform. “I didn’t realize you’d been promoted.”
He shrugged. “A couple of months ago.”
“Congratulations, Mac.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m happy for you.” And she was, Rachel realized. She knew how much Mac’s career meant to him. She’d discovered just how important it was when he’d informed her that he was leaving and didn’t know when or if he’d be back. While he’d revealed little to her about what his activities as a SEAL entailed, she had learned enough about the elite military unit to know that the missions Mac and his team undertook weren’t without danger or risk. Besides, Mac had been honest with her—brutally so the last time she’d seen him. He’d told her not to wait for him, because he could never offer her what she deserved—a commitment, a family, a future. But the bottom line was that Mac hadn’t wanted those things with her. Or at least not enough to try. For him, it came down to a choice—the SEALs or her. And he’d chosen the SEALs.
“I’ve missed you, Rach,” he said, his eyes darkening. It reminded her of the way Mac had looked at her the first time they’d made love…as though she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. He lifted his hand, stroked his knuckles along her cheek the way he had countless times when they’d been together.
His touch, his smell, the look in his eyes brought everything back to Rachel in a rush. And it seemed like only yesterday that she had lain naked in his arms, her heart filled with love and dreams. But Mac hadn’t wanted her love. Her dreams hadn’t been his, she reminded herself. Resenting the fact that just the memory still had the power to make her heart ache this way, Rachel took a step back.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his hand falling to his side. “I guess I shouldn’t have just shown up here like this without any warning. But I wasn’t even sure if I was going to make the trip to New Orleans until I was practically on the plane. Then once I got here, all I could think of was that I had to see you, find out how you were doing.”
Of course, he’d wanted to see her again. Why wouldn’t he? She’d been quite an accommodating playmate for him the last time he’d been in town, hadn’t she? Pain and bitterness rose like bile in her throat. “As you can see, I’m doing just fine,” she told him.
“I can see that,” he said, his eyes sparkling with appreciation. “I tried to reach you when I got in yesterday evening, but your old phone number had been disconnected. I went by your apartment, but I was told you’d moved. That’s when I decided to come by the hospital and see if you still worked here.” He gave her that lopsided grin. “Lucky for me you didn’t change jobs, too.”
“You know me, Mac. Predictable as always. I’ll probably still be here twenty years from now and the next time you’re passing through,” she said, unable to keep the sharpness out of her tone.
Mac narrowed his eyes. “It wasn’t a put-down. I’ve always admired your dedication to your job. It was one of the things that attracted me to you—the fact that you always knew you wanted to be a nurse just like I knew I wanted to be a SEAL. It’s one of the things we have in common.”
She couldn’t help but feel a slash of pain as she thought about how much more they had in common than he knew. Yet the idea of telling him about P.J. now, sent panic racing through her blood. “I… It was good to see you again, Mac. But I really need to get back to work.” Ignoring the look of confusion that crossed his handsome face, she started past him.
“Hang on a second,” he said, blocking her path.
“Mac, I told you, I have to get back to work.”
“I know.” He frowned, watched her out of eyes she was afraid would see too much. “Listen, I’m not sure what I said to upset you, but whatever it is, I do apologize.”
“Fine. Now if you’ll excuse me.” She started past him a second time. Mac mirrored her actions and once again blocked her path. “I told you, I need to get back to work.”
“Take a break.”
“I don’t want a break,” she countered.
“Take one, anyway. I want to talk to you.”
“Forgive me, but somehow I doubt talk is what you had in mind when you came here looking for me.” And even as she said the words, Rachel knew she wasn’t being fair. After all, why shouldn’t he think she’d be ready to resume their affair, when she’d been so willing to take him to her bed the last time he’d been in town.
His blue eyes chilled, and there wasn’t the hint of a smile in sight. “I have no problem doing this in front of an audience. We finish this conversation right here, right now, where everyone can hear us, or we can do it in private. It’s your call, Rachel. What’s it going to be?”
He meant it, Rachel realized, noting the stubborn set of his jaw. “I’ve only got a few minutes,” she told him and led him to the staff lounge, which thankfully was empty. “All right, Mac,” she said turning to face him. “We’re alone now. So why don’t you tell me why you’re here.”
He met her gaze, held it. “I’m here because I wanted…no, I needed to see you,” he said with a grimness so at odds with the man she remembered.
During their four weeks together, Mac had laughed and loved with her with a boldness that stole her breath. He’d made her feel daring and exciting and sexy, nothing at all like dull-as-dishwater Rachel Grant the minister’s daughter, who always followed the rules. She’d broken every rule she’d been taught and believed in about abstaining from premarital sex, about the need for love and commitment. And she’d broken them without regret, without shame. Until Mac had told her he was leaving, that there could be no future for them.
His expression softened. “I meant what I said, Rach. I really have missed you.”
The words were like knives through her heart, resurrecting old feelings, old dreams, old hurts. “What am I supposed to say to that, Mac?”
“I was hoping that maybe you missed me, too.”
Missing didn’t come close to describing how she’d felt when he had left. She’d felt lost. Alone. Dead inside. Until she’d found out about P.J. Discovering she was pregnant with Mac’s baby had been all that had kept her going those first few months. And now here Mac was again, back in New Orleans for a week or two, he’d said. So he’d decided to look her up.
“I guess I can’t blame you for not believing me, but it’s the truth. I never forgot you, Rachel.”
“Really? Is that why I haven’t heard from you in over two years? No phone calls, no letters. Not even a postcard to say you were still alive.”
His mouth tightened. “I never led you on, Rachel.”
“No, you didn’t,” she admitted, and the admission left her almost as raw now as it had two years ago. “You made it clear when you left that it was over between us. I shouldn’t have been surprised not to hear from you. But I was surprised.” And hurt, she admitted silently.
“Rachel.” He said her name softly, reached out to touch her face.
She turned away, not wanting him to see the pain in her eyes. Steeling herself against the feelings he stirred in her, she said, “You’ll have to forgive me, if I find your claim about missing me somewhat convenient.”
“Convenient?” he repeated, genuine puzzlement in his voice. “Just what is it you’re accusing me of?”
Having regained some measure of control over her emotions, Rachel turned around to face him again. “I’m not accusing you of anything,” she told him evenly. “I’m simply saying that after all this time without a word from you, you find yourself back in New Orleans and decide to look me up and tell me how much you’ve missed me.”
“It’s true.”
“Is it? Or maybe you thought it was a good line and you’d use it to talk your way back into my bed. After all, I was pretty accommodating the last time you were in town,” she said, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. “So I guess I can understand why you might think I’d be interested in picking up things where we left off. And maybe I would be if—”
“Don’t,” he said the word softly, but there was no mistaking the steel behind the warning. She caught the icy glint of anger in those blue eyes. “I never used you, Rachel. Don’t cheapen yourself or me by pretending that I did.”
The truth of his statement shamed her. “You’re right, of course. You never used me, Mac. You didn’t have to. I allowed myself to be used.”
“Rachel.”
He reached for her, but Rachel stepped away. She turned her back to him, not wanting him to witness her shame. “You’ll have to forgive me. Having your lover tell you to forget him…to go find yourself a nice guy with a safe, nine-to-five job to fall in love with has a way of making a woman feel particularly stupid.” Hiking up her chin, she turned around to face him again. “But I’m a lot smarter than I used to be, Mac. Which brings us back to my question. Why are you here?”
“Because I didn’t follow my own advice.”
Rachel frowned. “What do you mean?”
He pinned her with hard blue eyes. “I mean I didn’t forget you. I haven’t been able to forget you—no matter how hard I’ve tried.”
Rachel blinked, caught off guard as much by his reply as by the dark heat behind it. Emotions surged through her like a storm. Pleasure. Hope. Fear. But it was the fear and the memory of all those long and lonely months when she’d prayed for Mac to contact her, to tell her he wanted to give their love a chance that kept her anchored now. She was no longer a naive woman who could be easily swept off her feet by the handsome Navy SEAL. She was a single mother with responsibilities. And she couldn’t afford to play emotional games with the likes of Mac McKenna.
“It’s true. There hasn’t been a single day in the past two years that I haven’t thought about you.”
Shaken, Rachel clutched the clipboard to her like a shield. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded, wanting to believe him, afraid to believe him. “What do you want?”
“You,” he said evenly. “I want you, Rachel.”
The breath stalled in her lungs. Rachel squeezed her eyes shut, striving to keep her emotions in check.
As the code came across the loudspeaker for her to report to the E.R., Rachel snapped her eyes open. “I have to go,” she told him, and started for the door suddenly glad for an excuse to escape. She needed time to think, time to figure out what she was going to do. The last thing she wanted was to read more into Mac’s words than he meant.
“What time do you get off?” he asked, following on her heels as she exited the employees’ lounge.
“Not until four o’clock.” She started toward the elevators with Mac matching her steps.
“I’ll pick you up.”
“No!” Rachel swallowed and, lowering her voice, said, “I…I have plans.”
He didn’t like it. She could see it in the set of his jaw, the way his eyes narrowed. “All right. When?”
“Tonight,” she said, praying Chloe would be able to watch P.J. for a few extra hours that evening. Mac followed her into the elevator and the doors slid shut, locking them in the confined space alone.
“What time?” he asked, looming over her so tall, so strong, so fierce. She’d almost forgotten how devastating Mac McKenna could be. No, that wasn’t true. She hadn’t forgotten. She’d simply tried her best to forget.
“Rach, what time?”
“Seven o’clock. Irene’s in the French Quarter?” she suggested and immediately kicked herself mentally for choosing the restaurant they had frequented as a couple.
“Irene’s is fine. I’ll pick you up at say six-thirty?”
The doors of the elevator slid open. “I’ll meet you there,” Rachel told him, and hurried out before he could object.
She wasn’t going to show, Mac conceded at half past eight that evening. He tossed back the last of his wine and motioned for the waiter.
“Another glass of merlot while you wait for your lady, Commander?”
“No thanks, Sergio,” Mac replied, still amazed that the man who’d been a fixture at the Italian eatery two years ago, when he and Rachel had frequented the place, actually remembered him.
“Then perhaps you will allow Sergio to bring you a small appetizer, just a little something to tide you over until the lady arrives.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the offer, but I’ll just take the check.”
“But your plans for dinner…” he objected.
“Are off. It doesn’t look like the lady’s going to make it.”
“Ah, a pity,” the older man said with a frown that formed a crease between his brows that extended to his receding hairline. He placed the black leather folio with the bill on top of the table. “I am sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too.” After a quick glance at the check, Mac dropped a twenty inside—enough to cover the cost of the two glasses of wine he’d nursed while waiting for Rachel and a generous tip for the disappointed Sergio.
“Thank you, Commander,” Sergio murmured as he picked up the folio. “You and your lady will come to Irene’s again soon and ask for Sergio, yes?”
“Sure,” Mac replied.
But don’t count on it, Mac added silently because he didn’t hold out a lot of hope that he would be dining with Rachel at Irene’s or anywhere else in the near future. Picking up his hat, Mac headed for the exit. Even if he hadn’t completely blown things by showing up out of the blue at the hospital today, the chances of Rachel wanting to share so much as a cup of coffee with him were slim at best. While she hadn’t thrown him out, she hadn’t exactly welcomed him with open arms, either. Her crack about his reasons for coming to see her had gnawed at him all day. Was that how she remembered him? As some sort of stud who had used and discarded her? The idea that she might believe such a thing filled him with self-disgust. If she did believe him so callous, she’d probably only agreed to meet him in the first place in order to get rid of him.
Not that he blamed her, Mac conceded as he stepped outside into the chilled night air. If whatever she’d once felt for him had been replaced with resentment, he supposed he deserved it. And probably a lot more. To say he’d handled things badly two years ago when he’d left was an understatement. He’d flat-out bungled it, he admitted. The truth was he hadn’t wanted to leave her, and that fact alone had left him scared spitless.
Lost in thought, he scarcely registered that the weather, unpredictable as always, had gone from a balmy breeze to a brisk November wind. Unfazed by the sharp bite of cold air that met him when he turned the corner, Mac walked down the dimly lit street. As a SEAL, he’d been trained to master his body’s reaction to swift temperature changes, be it Arctic winds or desert heat. What he hadn’t been trained for was this sense of…uselessness.
Picking up his pace, Mac continued determinedly, striding headfirst into the cold gusts that swept through the narrow French Quarter streets. He walked faster, needing to burn up some of the restlessness churning inside him—a restlessness that had begun long before the minefield explosion that had damaged his hearing and had only worsened since he’d been placed on medical leave. But as he walked the historic streets of the city, Mac’s thoughts kept turning to the last time he’d walked these same streets. It had been hot then. Hot and humid as only New Orleans in September could be. And he’d been with Rachel.
He cringed at the memory of her face when he’d told her he was leaving and that she should forget him. As long as he lived, he’d never be able to erase the image of her brave but tremulous smile, of seeing the light go out of her eyes. He’d handled the situation with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop. The fact that he’d been in over his head and had been shaken by how important she had become to him, to where those feelings for her would lead him, didn’t excuse his actions.
Nor did it excuse the fact that he’d hurt her. Deeply, he suspected—despite the fact that there had been no tears, no accusations, no pleas for him to change his mind. But he’d known he had hurt her just the same. He’d seen the hurt in those sad gray eyes when he’d told her a clean break was best. He’d heard the hurt in her voice when she’d told him that she understood. And he’d tasted the hurt when she’d kissed him goodbye and wished him well.
And now here he was more than two years later showing up to ask her…
To ask her what, McKenna? To give you a second chance?
Hell, he didn’t know what he wanted to ask her or even how much he wanted to tell her. Maybe it was just as well that she had stood him up tonight. He would have probably made a fool of himself if she had come. His thoughts turned inward, Mac barely noticed the sidewalk musicians as he crossed the street and continued down to the next block. As a SEAL he hadn’t been able to offer Rachel any future. No way would he have asked her to commit herself to him knowing that the very nature of his job meant he might not make it back from one mission to the next. He’d learned firsthand the damage that kind of selfishness could cause. But now…
Now what, McKenna? What kind of future could he offer her now? Why should Rachel settle for a man who was damaged goods. Not even the SEALs wanted him anymore.
Anger and frustration stormed inside him as he recalled the conversation with his captain three days ago….
“Damn it, Mac, this sucks. But you know as well as I do that a SEAL’s got to be physically 100 percent. Loss of hearing, even in just one ear…” Captain Mike Rossi rammed a fist through his hair. He looked Mac square in the eye. “I’m sorry, kid. I really am. But I can’t risk the safety of the rest of the team.”
Standing at attention, his back ramrod straight, Mac felt as though he’d just been plowed down by a tank. It didn’t matter that he’d known it was coming. He’d expected to be cut loose from the team for nearly two months now, ever since the explosion in the raid on that embassy had left the hearing in his right ear diminished. Yet even anticipating the inevitable didn’t lessen the impact of the blow when it came. “I understand, Captain.”
“You’ve got a lot of leave coming. Take it, Mac. Go to New Orleans. Talk to the specialists at the base hospital there. I understand they’re doing some great things. Find out all you can about that new surgical procedure and then decide if it’s worth the risk or not.”
“I’ve already decided to have the surgery, sir.”
The captain frowned. “You should check it out first. Weigh all the risks before you make any decision. Forty percent hearing is better than none.”
“Forty percent isn’t good enough to be a SEAL, sir.”
“Being a SEAL isn’t everything.”
“It is for me, sir.” Which was the truth. For him being a SEAL wasn’t just what he was or did, it was who he was. And if he could no longer be a SEAL, he was…he was no one.
The captain’s frown deepened. “This isn’t something you should make a snap decision about, Mac.”
“I know. And I’ve given it a lot of thought, Captain. I want to have the surgery.”
“Check it out first, SEAL. That’s an order. Afterward if you still want to go through with it, it’s your choice. But if I were you, I’d think long and hard before I make any decision. And while you’re thinking, it wouldn’t hurt to look up that lady friend of yours who lives there and maybe see how she feels about it.”
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