“Sometimes I worry for you, Deacon,” he said, his lips curving up on one side. “I ain’t who you should be worrying about.” Deacon jerked his head at me. “Little Miss ‘I Gotta Be A Martyr’ over there is the… — Jennifer L. Armentrout Copy Share Image
“Something in what Deacon said caused Aiden to string together an atrocity of f-bombs. My brows flew up. Aiden rarely cussed or lost his cool, but boy, he was a grenade whose pin had just been pulled.” — Jennifer L. Armentrout Copy Share Image
