Jerelyn Urquhart

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“Don’t apologize,” I said, working my way closer to coherent thought. An apology meant she regretted it. And how could anyone regret what we had just shared? My heart pounded out an erratic rhythm as I took one step closer and used two fingers to tip her face up to meet mine. “Lila, look at me.”
Caught in the Axe (Maine Lumberjacks, #1)
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