Taylo

n us heavier than any argument. I hired a private investigator to dig into Avery Adkins's life, but every file came back scrub

y one evening, staring

dispensing with any pretense of civilit

a weariness that went bone-deep.

inted copy of the divorce agreement on the leather blotter. "S

n who knew he held all the cards. He picked up the document, but not to sign it. With a single, decisi

nyielding. "There is only one way out of th

broke. With a sweep of my arm, I sent the heavy crystal paperweight and everything else on his desk

er that now lay on the floor between us. I followed his gaze to the polished steel g

tood there, locked in a tense embrace, our chests heaving. His eyes s

his voice trembling with a

pulled my hand to his chest, pressing my palm flat against hi

my resistance. "Then do it. Feel this. It only beats for you.

sistance in his arm slackened. He wasn't fighting me; he w

hoked out, his eyes locked on mine, filled

tten on the floor. His words were more visceral than any bl

g. It was the same scent he wore that night in the trailer. T

he past and present were crashin

my hands shaking uncontrollably. I held up my

d out of the study, leaving him wounded in the dark. I fled down the hallway, the coppery tang of his