Rory tentatively gassed her sedan as the cars lurched forward. They’d just had a car accident—a minor one, true—and he hadn’t taken her info yet. If he had, the jig would’ve been up.
And she would’ve continued to wonder about Sam, as she had wondered for the past two years.
An honorable person would tell him who she was, but that would ruin the mystique. Anyone could see the shadows gathered in his haunted dark eyes, and if she could give him a respite from his ghosts for an hour or two, she would.
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