“It’s a dress you wear when you want someone to regret losing you.” “Even more than he already does?” Sig waved Burgess over. “Doubt that’s possible.” A bolt twisted in between Tallulah’s breasts at the implication that Burgess had been suffering, but she refused to acknowledge it. She’d dealt with more than her fair share of heartache for the last six weeks. She’d loved this man, gone to him and confessed it, despite her arsenal of fears. In return, he’d doused her feelings in kerosene, set them on fire, and told her to split. If he regretted his behavior now? Then good. He should.
i will throw hands with her.
