“No,” he said, and it wasn’t a lie. Though much of his memory had returned, he had no recollection of a plan to move in with her. Or Megan. Or anyone. “I have a house.”

“I know. We talked about renovating it, y’know. Updating it and, while that was happening, living in my apartment. In town. It would be tight, but cozy.” Her eyes sparkled. “I’d like that.”

He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. He wanted to ask her if she were serious, but he saw that she was innocently sincere. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”

“Why not?”

He glanced at the cab of the truck, where Bobby was trying to look as if he wasn’t eavesdropping through the open window as the big rig idled. Another one of the workers was hauling a tree to a vintage station wagon and glanced his way. James was suddenly painfully aware of how visible they were. “Look, Sophia,” he said, more softly. “I don’t think this is the time or place to discuss this. Right now, I have a lot of things to sort out.” He didn’t want to go into the fact that Megan Travers was still missing, that Megan had thought James intended to marry her, and for all he knew, he was the primary suspect in her disappearance. Aside from all that, he had a business to run and wasn’t exactly a hundred percent.

“We all do,” she agreed, and touched the lapel of his coat, a personal, intimate gesture that said to anyone who caught it that they were a couple or, more succinctly, that she considered him hers.

He stepped back, and she let her hand drop. “Later.”

She lowered her voice. “Didn’t last night mean anything?”

He looked up at the sky, where gray clouds were threatening the sun. “That . . . was great, but it was a surprise . . . I’ve got to go.”

“But—”

“I just need a little space.”

He saw a wounded look cross her eyes, and he mentally kicked himself from one side of hell to the other. Why was he always disappointing women? Causing them pain? Was he just that callous and self-serving? Had he been sending out the wrong signals? Or had the women misread him?

“All of the above,” he muttered and while Sophia stayed where she was, staring at him, her full lips knotting into a sexy pout, he walked around the front of the truck and opened the passenger door. Ralph was waiting. “Get in,” he said to the dog, tossing the dregs from his cup onto the snowy ground. By the time he’d settled into the seat and the shepherd was next to him, head pressed to the window, James saw that Sophia had turned around and was walking toward the hotel.