The Bride Asked for My Taste. I Gave Her a Wedding Gift She Couldn’t Return.

crossed the room and poured himself a drink.

Still comfortable.

That was what amazed me.

Even now, with evidence gathering like storm clouds, he believed comfort was his birthright.

“We don’t have to be enemies,” he said.

“No. You could make this easier.”

“For whom?”

“For yourself.”

I closed the book.

Grant leaned against the bar cart. “I know you’re hurt. continue reading …