He studied me in the dim light, eyes narrowing just slightly. Then the corner of his mouth tugged in that lazy, knowing way.
“At my place tonight?” I asked before I could stop myself, the words rushing out like I had to stake the claim before my courage fizzled.
He didn’t bother answering. Just gave me a slow, sly nod.
I forced a smile, pulling my coat tighter. “I’ll keep the door unlocked. Just… be careful where you park, or the neighbors will start talking.”
His low chuckle followed me as I slipped out the door, my pulse still racing from more than just the need to get home.
My head throbbed as I drove with my headlights off until I reached the main road, paranoid that some early riser living on Lucky Ranch might spot my car slipping away from Sawyer's place.
As I navigated the winding road home, the lake appeared and disappeared through the trees, its surface black as oil in the pre-dawn darkness. Each curve put more distance between the woman I'd been last night and whoever I was becoming this morning.
Several minutes later, I arrived at my cabin, with only the faintest glow of dawn brushing the horizon behind it. Sunny was curled up on the couch when I slipped inside, her tail thumping once against the cushion before she hopped down and padded over to me. Relief loosened something tight in my chest.
“See? I told you I wouldn’t be gone long,” I murmured, grabbing some Ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet. She gave me a sleepy look that said I was still on thin ice, then whined until I opened the back door and let her out.
While she nosed around the yard, I filled her bowl with kibble, topped off her water, then braced myself against the counter. My reflection glared back at me from the kitchen window—coat half buttoned over last night’s silk. I shoved the memory away, hung the coat on the hook, and moved through my morning motions like muscle memory could erase the evidence.
Shower. Coffee. Lip gloss. A quick braid to hide the tangle in my hair. By the time Sunny scratched at the back door to come in, the first pale gold streaks of sunrise stretched over the lake, painting the water in broken light. She trotted in, shook off, and stuck to my heels as I gathered my purse.
My phone buzzed across the counter. I grabbed it, ready for another message from Martin, but it wasn’t him.
Emma: Lunch today? My treat. Haven’t seen you since forever.
Me: Absolutely. You’re a Godsend.
I grinned and sighed. Normal. Safe. Exactly what I needed—an hour to talk about something other than bills and bad decisions.
“It’s time to go to work, girl,” I told Sunny, clipping on her leash. She wagged her tail so hard her whole body wiggled.
Maybe today I could convince myself that last night was just a blip. Just a distraction. Nothing more.
Who are you fooling? What about tonight?
When we made our way into Lovelace, the pavement had dried from yesterday’s rain, and Main Street was waking up. Trucks angled along the curb, a couple of old-timers nursed coffee outside the diner, and the café on the corner was already buzzing. I hadn’t seen Emma since I got back from Arizona. The timing felt like a lifeline. Normal. Easy. The exact opposite of what I’d done last night.
The glass door to the diner opened with a swish, and I stepped in. The smell of meatloaf and vegetable soup wrapped around me like a blanket I didn’t deserve.
Emma was already there, waving me over with a smile that could power the whole town. She was all sunshine and polished hair, her scarf tossed artfully over one shoulder, a stack of historical society brochures on the table beside her coffee.
“There she is,” Emma said, popping up to hug me, all bright scarf and cinnamon-sugar perfume. “You look good. Tired, but good. Your trip must’ve treated you well.”
I slid into the booth across from her, pasting on a smile I didn’t quite feel. “It was… fine. Hot. Dry. Mom and Dad needed some help with finances. And, well—Dad just had heart surgery. He won’t admit how much it’s slowed him down, but I could see it. He can’t even change a lightbulb without breaking into a sweat. Now, I’m stretched too thin.”
Emma’s expression softened, her hand still wrapped around her coffee mug. “Sweetheart, let me help you figure it out.”
I traced the rim of my cup. “I’m getting behind on the shop bills.”
Emma reached across the table, covering my hand with hers. “You’ve always been the one to take care of everybody. But you can’t set yourself on fire to keep everyone else warm.” She gave me a look. “You know there are other options, right? You could get a little breathing room with a credit card advance. Just enough to ease the squeeze until business picks up.”
I let out a laugh that sounded more like a sigh. “You’re telling me I’ve been tearing my hair out over tulip bills when I could’ve just gone by the ATM? Lord, I should’ve known that. I swear, sometimes I’m my own worst enemy.”
Her smile softened into something sly. “Speaking of enemies… or maybe frenemies… was that Sawyer James I saw leaving your shop yesterday? You, Easton, and Sawyer went on that cruise with the others, didn’t you? Spill, girl. How much fun did youreallyhave with those cowboys?”
I nearly choked on my coffee. “First of all, I wasn’t hanging out with both of them on the cruise. Easton’s your crush, not mine.”
Her cheeks went pink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
