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“Thanks,” she rasped. “You saved me… again. I’m sure you’re getting tired of it.”

“Never,” he whispered under his breath.

Her eyes cut to meet his, uncertain if she’d heard him actually say that single word or if it was all in her imagination. But when their gazes locked, she knew deep down she’d lost it. She put more distance between them and waved toward Charlotte. “It was nice to meet you. I hope you two enjoy your evening together.”

Agatha couldn’t escape into the building fast enough. Not even the music or loud chatter could scrape all the goosebumps from her flesh. She rubbed her arms vigorously. How was she supposed to face him tomorrow when he stopped by for breakfast?

What had she done!

That standing invitation wasn’t supposed to come back to bite her. She’d merely wanted to offer him something to show her appreciation. And now she’d gummed everything up.

* * *

Never in her wildest dreams did Agatha think that anything could get any worse than it already had.

She’d lost her home, her memories, her property.

Now, she’d lost her dignity and grace.

Technically, Zeke was never hers to begin with, but somehow she felt like she’d lost a future with him, which didn’t make any more sense the more time that passed between the moment at the country club and where she now sat on the cabin steps.

Zeke wasn’t back yet, and if he was, it was far more likely he was avoiding her than anything else. Only she had a major problem.

She’d locked herself out of the cabin.

Already, she’d checked all the windows. She’d checked all the doors and even the places where he might have hidden a hide-a-key.

There was no salvation.

Agatha dug her hands into her hair again and again, completely messing it up beyond repair. She wasn’t even sure a brush would be able to tame her disheveled tresses. Finding a new place to live was beginning to sound better and better with each passing second.

She wouldn’t even mind staying in her home now that the exterior was done. The paint fumes weren’t all that terrible.

Zeke wouldn’t go for it, but what control did he have over her?

None.

Zilch.

Now, if he didn’t have a girlfriend and they’d followed through with their date, perhaps she’d give him a vote.

Okay, probably not even then, but at least she wouldn’t be drumming up ideas of how to avoid the man. When had she turned into a coward? This wasn’t who she was. She wasn’t helpless, nor did she care what other people thought of her.

But Zeke wasn’t just some random person. Somewhere along the line, she’d grown affectionate toward him. And that was where the problem resided.

“Agatha?”

She jumped, her eyes narrowing as she stared into the darkness surrounding the cabin. She would have recognized that voice anywhere, and already the adrenaline had kicked in, preparing her fight or flight instinct.

Agatha got to her feet and curled her hand around the railing. “Zeke.”

He stepped into the light that spilled from the porch awning. Still dressed in his slacks, button-up shirt, and bolo tie, he looked just as good as he did at the club—except his features were strained.

“What are you doing here, Zeke?” It was impossible to hide the accusation from her voice. “Shouldn’t you be with Charlotte?”

Even from her vantage point, she could see the way his jaw tightened.

Agatha pressed forward, hating the silence even more than the betrayal she felt coiling in her stomach—betrayal she wasn’t even entitled to. “You shouldn’t be here. If I had known you were dating someone…”