Caught Up (Windy City, #3)

by Liz Tomforde

“She’s not my blood, but she’s my girl,” Monty says from beside me. “And she looks at your boy, who is not her blood, in the same way I look at her.

“If you ever decide to stop running and make a home…” His eyes are begging, pleading. “Make it with me.”

“We were missing you before we even met.”