The pain was there, an ache in his chest he imagined he would feel every time he thought of Hannah. And he thought of her every day. Dreamed of her about as often. But lately,...
—Tracy Sumner
Watching him, his hands buried in his pockets—to keep from circling her neck she supposed—she couldn’t help but marvel at the curious mix of Southern courtesy and male arrogance, the natural assumption he shouldered of...
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