“Why Dylan, I believe you have a poet’s soul.” She smiled.
“All cowboys have a poet’s soul, my sweet.” He chuckled for a moment. “Now, what are you doing out here at this time of night?”
Chelsea stretched her arms over her head to loosen up her stiffening muscles. “I’m getting some exercise, and if you don’t mind, I need to be getting back.” She turned to go.
“I can give you a ride back, you know.” Dylan put his helmet back on.
She turned to look at him. “Excuse me?”
“Get on. I’ll take you home.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve got Hank with me and I can walk home.” She turned to...
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