Jake was beyond drunk when the plane touched down in New York. He had hit the booze hard on the four-hour flight and was at the point of seeing double. He had tried to drown his sorrows and give himself enough Dutch courage to see this through and gone way overboard. He had been consumed with her, memories of kissing her, aching to go back and stop this bullshit.

God, he missed her already.

Just being away, the miles widening, had been torture for him, and instead of distance ...