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Chapter 9

Tyson Beechner entered Cupcakes around three in the afternoon. Jarr was icing sugar cookies at one of the counters. Tyson was a big guy with a professional wrestler’s body type. He had a long mane of blond hair in a tight pony tail and his eyes were shimmering blue pools. His bare biceps were lined with veins and his chest looked as if it were going to pop out of its tight, white tee. He was three years older than Jarr, ex-military, rugged, and sexy as hell. The guy could have worked as a stuntman in Hollywood if he wanted to, Jarr thought, but Tyson had no interest in moving west, enjoying Pennsylvania and its four seasons.