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Her pretty face was flushed from the brief exertion. “That was fun! Thank you.”

“I’ll call Mom and set up a time. For now, I’d better get back home and mow the backyard.”

She followed Mikhail to the door. “Let me know what works best for the two of you. My schedule is pretty flexible.”

“I will.”

On the way out, he rewarded them both with a quick kiss, careful to keep it friendly and hide the heat the slow dance had generated, at least in his imagination. Suddenly, he wasn’t dreading the whole dinner-dance thing anymore, not when he could spend much of the evening with Amy in his arms.

“Sarge, let’s go, boy.”

The bulldog whined, reluctant to leave his buddy and the pretty lady with the special treats. Funny, but Mikhail knew just how he felt.