Play Along (Windy City, #4)

by Liz Tomforde

My name. She sounds good saying my name.

“C’mon wife. Play along.”

“God.” His exhale is full of agony. “Why can’t you see it? Why can’t you see me?”

I’ve never met a man prouder of a piece of jewelry than Isaiah Rhodes is of his wedding ring.

You’re my answered prayer.