"You're shaking your scotch like it's a martini, Luke," she said with a wicked smile and a nod toward his trembling hand. "You want me to make you one of those instead, baby?" "No, no, this is fine, great," he sputtered, and lifting the glass to his lips he quickly gulped half the contents. "Oh my, thirsty boy," she laughed, and then she patted the stool beside her and said, "Come over here and sit beside me, Luke. I won't bite you; not hard anyway."

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