Sammy slipped her arm around his waist. She noticed the people, gauged who might be armed, who would be trouble, all the things a trained agent would do. Admiring or jealous looks didn't matter or cause her to change the way she behaved. Jason would let her know if she was inappropriate.
The beat of the music covered their conversation. "I was willing to believe country folk could count up to twenty," she drawled, imitating his accent. "Some of you up to twenty-one. But do tell about those strange city rituals we have back home."
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