I remember three things most about Lucas Warner.
One. He’s a dirty talker, and I doubt ten years in the military cleaned up that filthy mouth of his. (Not a complaint. In fact, just the opposite.)
Two. He has a possessive streak. When we dated, I was his. Hard stop.
Three. The look on his face when we broke up. When my father’s relentless complaints about “that boy from the wrong side of town” finally wore me down.
Unfortunately, my father was wrong about a lot of things including t...
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And So, We Dance: A Small Town, Second Chance Romance
