The landlady was a busybody and a pain in the ass. Watching. Always watching. And even showing up at James’s inn. Once when Sophia was tending the counter in the Christmas shop attached to the café, Phoebe had the nerve to come in and purchase little snow booties for the dog. All the while she’d been in the shop, she’d lingered, the cur in his hand-knit sweater under her arm as she’d fingered several tree ornaments, perused the Christmas cards, and touched a festive display of a miniature town complete with a tiny train that actually circled the small houses on a perfect little track. Of course, she’d kept an eye on Sophia, even asking a coworker about her.

As if the old bat knew what Sophia was up to.

She’d even tried to chat with Sophia at the register, her purse flopping open as she’d counted out the exact change. Sophia had gained a glimpse inside: tissues, lipstick, notepad, rain bonnet, and EpiPen; a glasses case was visible for just a second.

Driving away from the apartment building, Sophia shoved the nosy old woman out of her mind, at least for the moment. The old busybody could be dealt with later. Right now, Sophia had more important things to think about: specifically, James. What the hell was he thinking?

Her gloved hands tightened over the wheel.

She knew James wanted her.

Had always known.

From the first time they’d met.

But other people always seemed to get in the way, she thought sourly as she drove out of town, her windshield still showing spots of ice, her wipers scraping as they batted at the ever-falling snow, her once-broken toe starting to throb from the too-tight boots. She should have worn the suede ones, but these were sexier, and James would appreciate the effort—he always did.

A song was playing on the radio, some Christmas oldie that reminded her of growing up as a lonely child in Fresno, but she refused to think about that now.

“No, Sophia, don’t come.”

“Like hell,” she ground out as she buzzed through town, gunning the vehicle as a light turned amber. Her phone jangled, and she saw that it was Donna, her boss at the inn, probably calling her to come to the bar and fill in. Well, forget that. She ignored the call. Didn’t pick up.