You can get through this, she thought, ignoring the fact that the length of the outside of her leg was pressed tight against James’s, that he was so close. Memories of being with him flooded her mind. He might not recall their short time together, but she did—in all too vivid detail. Seattle had never seemed so vibrant, so alive than in the short few months she’d spent with James. Nor, she realized, had she. His betrayal had been bitter.

With her own damned sister.

And then he’d done the same to Megan.

She should have felt some satisfaction in that, she supposed, but didn’t. With an effort, she closed her mind to all those ridiculous thoughts and even more ridiculous feelings. The past was the past, and apparently it hadn’t made enough of a lasting impression on James that he could feel even a twinge of emotion about it.

They jostled on the ride in the close, warm cabin of the truck, and the smell of smoke and liquor enveloped her. Thankfully, the drive was short, less than five minutes that somehow felt like eons of staring silently through the windshield while watching the wipers slap away the snow.

At the inn, Bobby found a parking slot close to the entrance, pulled in, and cut the engine. Almost before the truck had stopped, James opened the passenger door and climbed out, as if he were as anxious as she was to avoid the close contact.

Good.

She too needed to break the intimacy of the closed space.

Keys in hand, she slid across the bench, stepped outside and into the sharp cold. With a glance to the driver, she said a quick, “Thanks for the ride,” to Bobby, then to James, still standing by the open passenger door, “This isn’t over.”

* * *

“She doesn’t like you much,” Bobby observed as he hauled James’s bag up the few steps to the porch of the inn.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

He shot James a disbelieving look and held the door open, and James eased his way into the familiar surroundings of the hotel. Intimate lobby, bar, and dining room to one side, elevator bank and fourteen-foot Christmas tree to the other.

Walking wasn’t as easy as it had been. The booze had been a mistake; Rebecca had been right about that, if not much else. He was a little light-headed, detached from his body, which helped with the pain but not so much with his stability.

Worse yet, the feel of Rebecca’s body next to his in the pickup had been a jolt.