Part 44:
link Arthur manages to bring in più than enough firewood just before the skies open up.
“Just made it,” he says, dropping the box in the parlor, near the large fireplace.
Guinevere is in the kitchen, putting things away and cleaning things up. Except the fish, which are Arthur’s responsibility. He strolls into the cucina and slides his arms around her waist, baciare her shoulder, then the spazio on the back of her neck between her ponytails.
“Those pesce aren’t going to clean themselves,...
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