“You’ve never even met him.” Yet the analysis was frighteningly accurate.

Royce’s expression turned serious. “Why are you hiding out?”

“What?”

“When I first saw you over at the bar, you said you were hiding out. From what?”

What, indeed.

Amber took a deep breath, smoothing both palms in parallel over her hair. She scrunched her eyes shut for a long moment.

She was hiding out from the glowing bride, the happy guests and the pervasive joy of happily-ever-after.

But even as she rolled the explanation around, she knew it wasn’t right. She didn’t begrudge Melissa her happiness.

Truth was, she was hiding out from herself, from the notion that she was living a lie, from the realization that she’d wrapped her life around a man she didn’t love.

The truth was both frightening and exhausting, and she needed time to figure it all out. More than an evening. More than a day. Even more than a weekend.

She needed to come to terms with the colossal mess she’d made of her life and decide where to go next. Ironic, really. Where Royce dreaded his ranch in Montana, she’d give anything-

Her eyes popped open, and she blinked him into focus. “Take me with you.”

His brow furrowed. “What?”

“Take me with you to Montana.” Nobody would look for her in Montana. She’d be free of dress fittings and florists and calligraphers. No more gift registries or parties or travel agents.

No more Hargrove.

The thought took a weight off her shoulders, and the knot in her stomach broke free. Not good.

“Are you joking?” asked Royce.

“No.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Maybe.” Was she crazy? This certainly felt insane. Unfortunately, it also felt frighteningly right.

“I’m not taking an engaged woman with me to Montana.”

“Why not?”

He held out his palms, gesturing in the general vicinity of her neckline and the rest of her dress. “Because…Because…Well, because your fiancé would kill me, for one.”