Here she’d thought Monty’s betrayal was the final disaster in the rapidly unfolding catastrophe that had become her life, but now she was at the mercy of Dean Robillard. She’d never have gotten in the pro football player’s car if she hadn’t recognized him. His nearly naked, and incredibly buff, body used to be plastered on billboards everywhere advertising End Zone, a line of men’s underwear with the memorable slogan “Get your butt in the Zone.” More recently, she’d seen his photo in People’s “50 Most Beautiful” edition. He’d been walking barefoot on a beach and wearing a tux with the cuffs rolled up. Although she didn’t remember which team he played for, she did know he was the kind of man she avoided at all costs, not that men like him made a habit of popping up in her life. But now he was all that stood between her, a homeless shelter, and a sign that read WILL PAINT FOR FOOD.

Three days ago, she’d discovered that both her savings account, with its eight-thousand-dollar nest egg, and her checking account had been emptied out. Now Monty had stolen her two hundred dollars of security money. All she had left in the world was in her wallet—eighteen dollars. She didn’t even have a credit card—a huge miscalculation on her part. She’d spent her adult life making sure she would never be helpless, yet here she was. “What were you doing heading for Rawlins Creek?” She tried to sound as if she were making conversation instead of accumulating information that might help her feel her way with him.

“Following a sign to the Taco Bell,” he said, “but I’m afraid meeting your lover made me lose my appetite.”

“Ex-lover. Way ex.”

“Here’s what I don’t get. The minute I saw the guy, I knew he was a loser. Didn’t any of your Seattle friends bother to point that out?”

“I move around a lot.”

“Hell, you could have gone up to a stranger at a gas pump.”

“Hindsight.”

He gazed over at her. “You’re going to start crying any minute now, aren’t you?”

It took her a moment to figure out what he meant. “I’m being brave,” she said with only a hint of sarcasm.

“You don’t have to pretend with me. Go ahead and let it out. Fastest way to heal a broken heart.”