Then, through my bedroom window screen, I heard the sound again—it sounded like someone was opening and closing car doors in the lot. A drunk looking for spare change? Teenagers causing trouble in the dark? A thief attempting to make off with a client’s vehicle?

Not on my fucking watch.

Jumping out of bed, I threw on a pair of jeans and some boots, moving quickly and quietly down the stairs and out the door. Pausing only to lock the door behind me, I jogged around to the back of the building to approach the lot from the alley.

I scanned the shadowy lot from the back, seeing no one. Hearing nothing. But my skin was blanketed with gooseflesh in the heat—something wasn’t right. I could sense it.

Slowly, I walked toward the front of the lot, which was dimly lit by streetlamps. Movement caught my eye, and I turned my head sharply to the right.

A flash of white inside the MG.

My shoulders and neck lost their tension. What the fuck was she doing, trying to sleep in her car?

Running a hand through my hair, still damp from the shower, I wondered what to do. I didn’t want to scare her, but I couldn’t let her stay out here in the parking lot. As I approached the driver’s side window, I saw her trying to unzip her dress in the back. But she wasn’t having much luck, either because she couldn’t reach the zipper or the front seat of the MG was too small, and suddenly she dropped her forehead to the steering wheel and began banging it in frustration.

That’s when I tapped on the window.

She screamed, of course. I held up my hands and backed away from the glass. “Shhh. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s just me.”

She put a hand on her heart and closed her eyes, breathing hard. Then she opened the car door and got out, looking embarrassed and guilty and maybe a little bit scandalized at the sight of me without a shirt on. I noticed she’d removed the tiara and let her hair down. It hung in long, messy waves past her shoulders.

“Sorry,” I said. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay. I know I shouldn’t be here.” She eyeballed my bare chest, then quickly looked away.

“Why are you here? I thought you were going to find somewhere to stay.”

“Well, after I got something to eat at the diner, I tried calling both inns in town, but they were booked.” She looked me in the eye. “Truth be told, I can’t really afford their prices anyway. So I just came back.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “Well, I can’t let you sleep in your car.”

“But I have nowhere else to go. Can’t you just pretend you don’t know I’m here?” she pleaded.

That was out of the question. But what was I supposed to do with her? It was too late to call my sister. Should I drive her out to the motel on Highway 31? And then what? Pay for the room myself? Then I’d have to go out there and get her tomorrow. I could let her stay on the couch at my place, but was that too weird? I was debating calling Cole and asking for his advice—he always did the right thing—when I saw a tear slip down her cheek.

“Hey, it’s—it’s okay,” I said. “Don’t cry.”

“It’s not okay,” she said, weeping into her hands. “My new life is already just as big a mess as my old one. I’m trying so hard to be brave and handle things on my own, but maybe this is a sign I can’t. Maybe I should just go back to Belle Meade and marry the tycoon.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true. And it’s my own damn fault. I mean, I’m thirty years old! I should have my life figured out by now. But I was a coward. And I was complacent. I could have walked away when I wasn’t so desperate, but I never did. I deserve to sleep on the street like a vagabond.”

“For fuck’s sake, Blair.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not going to sleep on the street.”

“I have no choice,” she sobbed. Then all of a sudden, she moved so close the backs of her hands were resting on my chest.

I could smell her perfume—sure enough, there was something vanilla about it—and her bare, trembling shoulders were begging me to put my arms around them. I had to shove my hands in my pockets to keep from embracing her.

“Look, you can—you can stay with me,” I choked out.

“What?” She sniffed and looked up. “Stay with you where?”

“My apartment. I live above the garage.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.” She backed up and touched her collarbone. “It wouldn’t be right.”

I rolled my eyes. “You don’t really have a choice, Blair. I’m not leaving you on the street, you don’t have money for a motel, and it’s the middle of the night.”

She blinked. “I guess you’re right. But I hate to impose. It’s so tacky.”

Impose, as if she’d shown up uninvited to a garden party. “Just . . . get your stuff and come on,” I said gruffly.

“Okay. My suitcase is in the trunk.”

I got it out for her, brushing away her hand when she reached for it. “I’ll carry it,” I said.

“Thank you.” She followed me down the sidewalk to my apartment door and stood at my side while I unlocked it. A car drove past us as I was pulling it open, and I cringed when it slowed down. Hopefully, it was no one I knew—I didn’t need to be the subject of any gossip tomorrow.

“Go on,” I said impatiently. “Get inside.”

She held up the bottom of her dress and started up the stairs, while I took a moment to lock the door behind us before going up two steps at a time, her bag still in my hand.

I hadn’t left any lights on, so when I reached the top, I bumped into her from behind. She stumbled forward, and I instinctively reached out, catching her around the waist.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just so dark.”

It was dark. And I had her clutched against my bare chest so tightly I could smell her perfume again. Or was it her hair? Blood rushed to parts of me that didn’t need encouragement right now, and I let her go.

“Give me a second.” Sidestepping her, I moved to the wall and flipped a switch.

“Oh—oh, wow,” she said, moving deeper into the room and turning in a slow circle. “This is beautiful.”

“Thanks.” I turned on a couple more lights, suddenly wary of being alone with her.

“No fireman pole?” she asked, shooting me a smile over one shoulder that I found alarmingly seductive.

“Not anymore.” Trying to remain businesslike—not easy when you’re shirtless at midnight—I set her suitcase down and stood a good ten feet from her, crossing my arms over my chest. “You can stay on the couch. I’ll get you a pillow and some blankets.”

“Thank you.”

“If you want to use the bathroom, it’s through there.” I gestured toward the hallway leading to my bedroom and quickly folded my arms again.

“Thank you. I would like to get out of this dress. Could I borrow a hanger please?”

“Sure. In the closet.” I was hoping she’d head straight for the bedroom but instead, she came toward me and reached out, placing a palm on my shoulder.

“I really appreciate this.”

Heat rushed my entire body. “No big deal.”