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I open my mouth to come clean, but then close it silently because the words won’t come just yet. I’m not ready to lose this carefree feeling, I suppose, although the lie pulls at me more and more.

We finish the food and break out the chocolate cake. Pepper literally claps her hands upon seeing it, and I take a forkful of the luscious chocolate frosting and hold it up to Pepper’s lips. She swallows it sensually, her eyes closed with bliss and lets out a wonderful hum.

I can’t resist. Instead of taking my own bite of cake, I lean forward and kiss those luscious lips, tasting the chocolate and Pepper’s own indefinable sweetness.

“You’re amazing,” I breathe.

Pepper giggles against my lips. “Don’t just say that.”

I merely seize her lips again while lowering that curvy form to the blanket.

“I’m not just saying it, sweetheart. You really are everything to me.”

And with that, I push her top up and begin exploring the sweet, creamy curves that make up my luscious girl. She tosses her head back, arching to meet my hands, and soon, we’re making love once more, my hardness sinking into those wet depths. Yet, guilt plagues me because Pepper still doesn’t know who I really am, and soon, the lie will become so elaborate that I may not be able to extricate myself.7PepperI stare at the picture on my phone. Pattycake is gorgeous with her shiny brown flanks and glossy mane. She looks happy, chewing on something in the sunshine, and I miss her already, even though I just saw her last weekend. I love Pattycake so much, and I’m lucky because Travis takes me out to see her often. Evidently his friend Kent lets him use the ranch as much as he wants, and Travis appreciates the hospitality.

Then again, it is a little weird because what kind of friend is this? Kent and his wife never seem to be home, and Travis is almost like a full-time house sitter. That’s weird, right? I know some people have summer homes in other states, but Kansas is gorgeous right now. Wouldn’t Kent and his wife want to be here, and not elsewhere?

But I don’t question it because it’s been three blissful months since Travis and I met, and we’ve been dating steadily ever since. But that’s another mystery: he’s so secretive about our relationship, and I’m not sure why. Travis seems dead set against telling anyone about us, nor has he introduced me to any of his friends and family. The family part isn’t so weird because he says that he has no close relatives. But no friends? That makes warning bells go off in my head.

I swallow hard, still staring at the picture of Pattycake. At least I know she’s real, and not just a figment of my imagination. Then, someone knocks on my bedroom door and I immediately X out of the picture.

“Come in,” I call.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Mom says, popping her brown bob inside my doorway. “I wasn’t sure you’d be home.”

“Nope, I’m here. Why, what’s going on?”

She smiles, her red lips curving into a perfect u-shape.

“You should come downstairs because Dad and I are working on a new listing. You can use this opportunity to learn the ropes.”

I roll my eyes. “Mom, we’ve talked about this.”

Maryanne looks put out. “I know, but I don’t understand why you won’t give real estate a shot. You’d be good if you just tried! You can’t work at the Coffee Perk forever! It’s unseemly for a woman with a college education.”

I sigh.

“I know, but the Coffee Perk is fun, and besides, real estate just isn’t what I want to do. It’s your passion and not mine. Please accept that.”

Maryanne blows out a breath. She always does this when she’s gearing up for a big rant, and inside, I wilt. I can’t handle a long monologue today. I’ve been dealing with this issue non-stop since I finished college, and my parents’ persistence is aggravating. Why don’t they get it?

“I’m going to Leslie’s house,” I say in short voice, cutting off Maryanne’s oncoming tirade.

I jump up from my bed and grab my bag before heading to the door. It doesn’t matter that I’m wearing an old pair of shorts and a ratty t-shirt. Leslie has seen me in far worse shape than this, and I’m not going to hesitate and lose momentum. Mom opens her mouth probably to tell me I’m a bad daughter, but I run out the door before she gets the words out, and my car is tearing out of the driveway in less than thirty seconds.

Thankfully, Leslie is home when I pull up to her house.

“Hey!” she greets me. My buddy grabs me for a hug and steps aside so I can come in. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what’s up? You don’t usually come over without calling first.”

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