“So, you’re saying just a spark from the oven can set my whole place on fire,” Keira stared at him.
“Well, you’re saying it,” Frank smiled. “I’m just here to help.”
“Yeah, well,” another beer in hand, Keira lounged in the Adirondack chair, taking in Frank’s sprawling yard, with orderly borders of flowers and neatly mowed lawn. In a flash of black and tan, Zeus zig-zagged across the green, Tad followed behind, laughing.
They’d tried so hard, but still –
She turned toward Frank, “You’re serious, my stove can blow the place up?”
He shrugged. “It’s been known to happen, every now and again. And from what I’ve seen of your place, it’s a bona fide fire hazard. Outdated electricals. Rotten wo...
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