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At the bar (2)

"Yeah. My mother's kind of a free spirit, a hippie type. Fantasy writing phase when I was born, so Adriana it was."

Viktor's surprise softened into a genuine smile. "I like it."

My blink betrayed my shock. "Well, good, I guess." A laugh bubbled up as a thought struck. "Thankful Mom wasn't in her sewing and quilting stage. Bobbin or Thimble? Can you imagine?"

His rich chuckle washed over me, warm and disarming. His scowl seemed to melt away. I felt the tension drain from my shoulders as I looked across the table.

This was the man Beth and Ruth had gushed about the charming heartthrob setting Stump River ablaze. Twinkling eyes, a dazzling grin against his scruffy beard - enough to melt glaciers, and apparently, my composure. My heart did a little tap dance, and my mouth felt suddenly parched.

Thankfully, Lucy reappeared with cutlery and water. As she took their orders, I stole a moment to gather myself. Viktor might be a looker, but arrogance wasn't a good look on anyone. Ego in check
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