He slammed back another shot of whiskey and dropped to the sofa, lying on his back and covering his eyes with his arm. He needed to calm the hell down before he spoke to her. He needed a good night’s sleep. He needed to get his head on straight and then he could sit down with her and lay it all out on the line. He had to make her understand what she meant to him.

Becky hadn’t slept. She’d packed up her room, cried into her pillow, and then gave herself a stern talking to. She was ...