me.

On the second, he asked whether I still hated pears.

I frowned. “How would you know that?”

“Your mother hated them.”

“So?”

His mouth twitched.

“So did you. Even mashed into baby food.”

I hated hearing that story.

Mostly because part of me wanted another.

Part 2

Grant yanked me backward, sending my phone sliding across the marble.

“You are not taking my company,continue reading …