Chapter 27

Our faces were so close that we could taste each other’s breath. He stared into my eyes with his bright blue ones and asked, “What should I do about this?”

My days of kissing him were long over. I had once thought him the man of my dreams at eighteen. Mr. Perfect. Mr. Universe. I thought he and I would marry someday, living a happy ever after life, but he had found someone else at the police academy, a guy by the name of Glenn Schmidt, who just happened to look exactly like me, someone who could have passed as my twin. And the two men were still coupled today, raising an adopted daughter in downtown West Stockton.

“You never saw me here, Lord,” I said, and sneaked past him, brushing my chest against his chest in a teasing approach that almost could have been called seductive.

“You’re hard not to see.”