Christmas in Key West. Cynthia Thomason
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“We should keep this between the two of us.”
Abby shrugged with an indifference she didn’t feel. What could Reese possibly have to say that concerned the two of them? Masking her curiosity behind a flip remark, she said, “I guess this means you’re not canceling Poppy’s fines.”
Reese smiled again, this time an indulgent pull of his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Make it early,” she said. “I’ve got errands to run.”
He tugged on the leash. “No problem. I’m an early riser.”
The yellow dog padded alongside him back to the patrol car, jumped in and took his seat as the passenger. Abby watched them leave the parking lot. She was a long way from admitting to herself that she was relieved that Reese’s “date” had long blond ears.
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