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"Ugh!" Stephanie Dwyer slammed her apartment door and stomped her foot. "Creep cheap marlboro cigarettes-01!" A picture fell off the wall and shattered. Water logged, droplets dripped from her nose, her hair, and her eyelashes, pooling at her feet. She scowled. Her new high heels were utterly ruined.
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Stephanie lifted pained eyes to her roommate and best friend. "I don't think there's two good guys in this whole universe. I give up. I've had it. I'm not kissing any more toads."
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"A venture capitalist from Chicago." He cocked a half grin at her. "I thought I'd come here to find a good old fashioned country girl."
The irony caught her off guard and she chuckled. "I'm from New York City. I wanted a good old fashioned country boy."
His gaze turned serious as he hauled her back against him. "Too late. . . . I'm staking my claim and I'll fight any of those cowboys that come near you."
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Her friend was losing it big time. "What are you talking about?" Handsome Patrick had seemed so perfect, so wonderful. Until she'd caught him with Alyssa tonight, telling her the moon and stars shone only for her newport cigarette, that they were soulmates - the same pathetic lines he'd snared her with.
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