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I braced myself for Easton’s anger or his disarming charm. I braced myself to maybe see him shirtless or in a business suit.

I did not brace myself for the bright-eyed twenty-something beauty who answers the door.

“Can I help you?” she asks. She’s in a T-shirt that’s cut off just above her navel and a pair of fitted shorts that cover less than the panties I’m currently wearing beneath my jeans