Burke held two cups of coffee, hoping that stopping for the brew was a boyfriendly thing to do. He’d never brought Ash coffee before, but he’d done all kinds of things for Bridgette. If she mentioned a salad in a text, he showed up at her office with it for lunch.
When she’d said she loved poodles, he’d bought one and trained it to ring the doorbell before giving it to her. That had taken months, and she’d given the dog to a friend when she’d left the island.
Not back to Burke.
His throat burned with acid, and he took another swallow of his own coffee to get it to go away. But it had never really gone away. He didn’t understand women like Bridgette, but he’d been hopelessly in love with her. How he’d missed that she’d been using him for a solid year felt like a stab through the heart ev
