The best part of her job was knowing that she’d taken a bank on the verge of collapse and propped it up long enough to save it. And the best part of that was knowing people still had jobs. Yet she couldn’t even accept a simple thank-you with grace.

Maybe she’d have been different if she’d been raised with a mother. Or maybe not. Each of Elise’s brief interactions with her mother’s family had been awkward and halting. They seemed just as bad at making connections as she was.

But the last time she’d called her aunt, the woman had assured her they’d welcome “a nice sit-down” if Elise ever made it out to western Kansas. They were only three hours from Denver. She tried not to think of that now.

Hoping the day was almost over, Elise looked desperately to the clock. She was shocked to find the day actually was over. All those employee briefings had chewed up the time. It was four o’clock. The bank was closing early for New Year’s, and she would be back in her empty room within the hour.

Through the shared wall with the break room, Elise heard laughter. She recognized Tex’s voice as he loudly made plans with his two coworkers for the night.

A moment later a hand slapped her open door hard. “Hey, boss lady.”

“Tex,” she said, purposefully not smiling at his flirtatious drawl. Not an easy task now that she could imagine his skinny body in boots and boxers.

“I hope you brought your dancing shoes.”

“I did not.”

“Well, get your hands on some. We’re going out. I have it on good authority that there’s a honky-tonk at the edge of town with a huge dance floor and a mechanical bull. Have you ever ridden a beast like that?” He wiggled his eyebrows in case she missed the blatant suggestion in his tone.

Elise sighed. It actually sounded like fun, but nobody wanted their boss along for a New Year’s Eve party. Nobody but Tex, anyway, and he wasn’t going alone. “No, thank you,” she answered.

“We’re all going out. Even Noah.”

Drinks with Noah? “Nope.”

“Aw, come on, Elise. I want to see you let your hair down.”

“My hair doesn’t come down,” she lied. Honestly, she would’ve loved to ride that bull. When would she get the chance to do that again?

Tex narrowed his eyes at her as if he didn’t believe her.

She smiled tightly. “Take a cab, all right? You can expense it.”

“Really? What about—”

“And your meal, but you’d better not turn in a receipt for any other refreshments.”

“Deal.” He winked. “Happy New Year’s Eve, beautiful.”

Elise was left staring at an empty doorway, her lips parted in shock. She’d forgotten that moment, when she’d awoken to find Noah in her bed. “Good morning, beautiful,” he’d whispered. As if he were happy.

But of course he’d been happy. He probably said that to every woman he woke up in bed with.

She heard the muffled rumble of cars pulling away from the parking lot. Most of the employees were on their way. Her team would be leaving in a few minutes, but she’d decided not to go. Elise closed her door and settled in for a couple more hours of work.

At least her New Year’s resolution would be simple: get a life outside work. And try not to screw it up so badly this time.

CHAPTER SIX

HER PLAN HAD BEEN SIMPLE. Take a ridiculously long shower. Order room service. Go to bed early so she wouldn’t hear the team coming back drunk and late and maybe with new friends in tow.

But after that freezing-cold walk across the street, dodging iced-over puddles and cars with wreaths wired to their bumpers, she’d sprinted up to her room, turned on the hot water, and found that she couldn’t stop thinking about Noah. In her shower. Naked. Her thirty-minute shower had ended at five minutes.

Room service had offered more bad news. Two employees had called in sick, and the food wouldn’t arrive for at least an hour. Stomach grumbling, Elise had stared down at the bed for a long time. Finally, she’d given in to fate and pulled on jeans and a sweater to eat downstairs.

Then disaster had really struck. With an hour wait for the food, she’d expected to walk into the hotel bar and find it packed with partiers. But just the opposite was true. The place was deserted. Not even a bartender stood behind the bar. If it hadn’t been the dead of winter, crickets would’ve chirped.

Defeat curved her shoulders down.

A throat cleared from somewhere to her left. Elise turned to see Noah James sitting in the closest booth. The quiet of the room suddenly had weight, and lots of it.

He cleared his throat again. “The cook is coming back in a few minutes to take my order. You’re welcome to join me if you like.”

“Oh. I see.” It would be very strange not to sit with him. If she demurred, he’d know she wasn’t as okay about their night together as she pretended to be. He’d know her nerves twisted into jumbled chaos each time she saw him.

She had no choice. Elise slid into the booth. “I thought you were going out with your team.”

“I’m not really the line-dancing kind of guy.” He raised his beer. “Domestic is on the house tonight. I think the cook just doesn’t want us bothering him, so he pointed me toward the fridge. Can I get you something?”

She looked at the bottle, worried even a few sips would turn her into Noah’s love slave again. But it was New Year’s Eve, damn it. “I’ll have the same. But just one.”

“Got it.” He walked around the bar and grabbed a beer while Elise watched him past her lashes. Like her, he was dressed down in jeans. He wore a faded T-shirt that made him look closer to twenty-five than thirty-six. It clung to his shoulders, reminding her of their strength. As if she’d forgotten. She knew the smell of his skin, after all.

He delivered the bottle, and Elise closed her eyes and took a long draw of the ice-cold beer, wishing once again that she was somewhere else. Christmas past.

Neither of her uncles had ever married, so it had always been just the four of them. Elise, her father, Uncle Robbie and Uncle James in the little house her dad had bought decades before. Her dad had cooked the turkey. Robbie had made mashed potatoes, and James had brought store-bought pie. Every year, the same thing. A college bowl game on the TV. Beers in hands. Sweats and T-shirts all around. Lots of shouting and laughter. Robbie would drink too much and sleep on the couch. Her dad would give her a new Christmas ornament that she’d add to the box she kept in her closet.

This year, she’d finally put up her own tree, and hung all thirty ornaments up. Whenever she looked at it, all the happy times with her dad enveloped her heart. Maybe she’d leave that tree up forever.

“Are you okay?” Noah asked.

Elise forced her eyes open. “Of course. Sorry.”

“Are you sure?” Frowning, he studied her.

She cleared her throat and smiled to distract him. “So weren’t you a little tempted to go to the bar? I admit I considered it for a moment, just for the chance to see Tex ride the bull.”

“You’ve got a point there. But I’m sure one of the others will record it on their phone.”

“You’re right. I always forget about those high-tech phones. There’s no such thing as privacy anymore.”

Noah’s mouth finally edged toward a smile. “True. I, for one, am damn glad camera phones weren’t common when I was in college.”

“Oh, God,” Elise laughed. “It’s a miracle anyone has the guts for a one-night stand anymore. I don’t think I’d want to risk that kind of…” Her words slunk away from her throat when she realized what she’d said.

Two minutes at the table with him and she’d already broached the subject of their illicit coupling. Heat rushed through her so quickly she felt dizzy and sick.

What the hell was she doing here in a deserted restaurant with the one man she shouldn’t be alone with?

“Well,” he said.

She had to look at him. She couldn’t keep staring at the table. But when she finally raised her eyes, Noah didn’t meet her gaze. He was slumped against the booth back, concentrating on tearing the label slowly off his bottle.

“We’re not going to talk about this, right?” she blurted, unable to handle the awkwardness a moment longer.

His gaze finally lifted, his blue eyes snapping with anger.

Anger?

The heat left her as quickly as it had come, chased away by awful fingers of ice. “Noah, you don’t have a girlfriend this time, do you? I figured, after you moved to Denver…”

His bark of laughter made her jump. “No, not this time.”

“Oh, thank God. You looked so mad for a second.”

“Did I?” His voice got softer when he was angry, and he was obviously angry now. Unfortunately, she loved that tone. It struck her like a cross between a growl and a purr.

“I’m sorry I’ve been…weird.”

“Is that what you’re sorry about now?”

She pulled her chin in. “What does that mean?”

A man in a white apron and a hairnet shuffled into view. “Sorry for the wait,” he interrupted. “What can I get for you?”

Elise and Noah stared at each other for a long time. She frowned. He glared.

The cook shifted. “Maybe just another beer?”

“I’ll have the turkey sandwich,” Elise answered.

“Fish and chips,” Noah muttered.

By the time they were alone again, Elise was beginning to register what he’d meant. That she was sorry about sleeping with him. That he didn’t like that. But why?

The silence of the empty restaurant stretched with impossible tension. A pot banged on the other side of the swinging door. Christmas music floated by as someone drove past in the parking lot.

“We work together,” Elise said, her stomach somersaulting like a gymnast.

“Yes.”

“So…that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Because we work together,” he said flatly.

“Yes.”

His expression offered no hint to what he was thinking. “We’re allowed to date.”

“You live in Denver. That’s not dating, Noah. That’s just sex. I don’t need my coworkers thinking of me that way. It’s easier for you.”

“Oh, yeah? How many jokes about flight attendants have you had to put up with this week?”

Right. “Maybe that was a bad idea. I apologize. I panicked.”

“I noticed.”

Elise remembered the look on Noah’s face just before he’d left her room. You want me to sneak out the window? He hadn’t been laughing.

What a mess. “It wasn’t a good idea, Noah. Surely you can see that.”

He raised his hands like he was going to say something important, but he stopped just as his lips parted. He took a deep breath, then placed both hands on the table very slowly. She couldn’t help but look at them, at the fingers spread wide, at the hard knuckles punctuated by the occasional scar. His nails were squared off well below the tips of each finger.

“You’re right,” he finally said. “We shouldn’t talk about this.”

She was lost. Reeling. Why did he sound so flat and resigned? What was going on here?

Her hands felt too light as she nervously shifted her bottle around on the table. If this were work, she’d just demand to know. She wouldn’t tolerate this silence. Maybe…

“Pardon me,” he murmured, sliding out of the booth.

Still caught in her uncertainty, Elise watched him stalk toward the bathroom. By the time he returned, their food had arrived and the moment was gone.

Her sandwich was a dry mess in her mouth, despite the gobs of mayonnaise slathered on it. Noah glared at his fried fish like it was the number-one suspect in his accounting investigation.

“We should meet tomorrow,” she blurted. “I want to know exactly what you’ve found so far.”

“Sure.”

“How about nine o’clock?”

He tossed her a hard glance. “Your room or mine?”

“The conference room,” she snapped.

“You got it, boss.”

Stomach aching, she watched Noah toss his napkin on top of his half-eaten food. He reached for his wallet.

She shook her head. “I’ll get it.”

“Happy New Year,” he said as he walked away, his tone implying the New Year was a curse instead of a possibility. Elise understood perfectly. The year stretched out before her like three hundred and sixty-five opportunities to screw up her interactions with Noah. And the worst thing was, now she didn’t even know what she was doing wrong.

Everything, probably.

Elise finished the last drops of her beer, then leaned back in the seat, listening to the faint sounds of dishwashing leaking through the kitchen door. A phone rang behind the bar. Nobody answered it. Cars roared by on the street, their horns honking in a bright staccato celebration.

Elise waited a long time for the bill. When it finally came, the cook shot a meaningful glance at the empty seat across from her. “You know, there’s a singles’ party at the VFW hall tonight.”

“Pardon?”

“For people who don’t have a date on New Year’s.”

She stared at the curls of white chest hair that had escaped above the grimy collar of his T-shirt. He had to be close to sixty. “Are you asking me out?” she whispered, unable to make the words louder in her tight throat.

“Ha!” he barked. “Lady, I have a date tonight. But you should go. Have a good time. Live a little.”