He breathed deep, inhaling the scent of pine-tar and Depape’s sweat. If he was lucky. He knew the Royals, and he knew Brett, although he had been a young player in Jake’s when and must have been a fairly old one in Eddie’s. This time there was no kicked-out leg and planted heel, no hat swept over a comically solemn bow; this time the gaze he gave her was steady and serious and disquietingly adult.
Put his hand on her breast for a moment, then kissed the warm palm. “Folks smile at each other, that’s all. Roland thought about it. Nor does Jonas.
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