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She pressed a finger to her mouth. Her eyes looked far away. “I didn’t want it to be me feeling that.”
    “You shouldn’t. I wasn’t trying to trick you. I just didn’t know how to stop and say, ‘Can we start over? My name’s actually Eric.’”
    “That’s no excuse.”
    “No, it’s not.”
    “You should have told me then. Or last night. Or anytime in the past six months.”
    He nodded, and Beth met his gaze again, her dark brown eyes deep with sorrow. “You’ve ruined it.”
    “I know.” He did. It had been a perfect memory. A perfect moment in his life. Her body and her mouth and her trembling hands. And now it was something sordid.
    Beth stood a little straighter and seemed to reset herself. The tears stopped and her chin rose in disdain as she stepped forward and brushed past him. “I just wanted you to know that. That you ruined it. Don’t ever call me. Don’t get in touch. But I guess that was your plan from the start, right?”
    She was right, so he didn’t dare touch her arm to stop her. He didn’t even apologize again. He just let her slam his office door and disappear from his life as quickly as she’d reappeared.
    Eric collapsed into a chair, let his head fall into his hands and called himself every name in the book. And yet there was still that small, stony part of him that didn’t regret what he’d done. Not at all. It was that same part that had always been selfish, but lately it seemed to be growing.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    A S SOON AS SHE’D SLAMMED the door behind her, Beth lost her ability to hold it together. She couldn’t draw enough air. She was breathing too hard, too fast, and she worried she might pass out at any moment. That would be the only thing that could make this unbearable situation worse: being found passed out in the back hallway of the brewery as if she were some delicate flower of womanhood, overcome with sexual shock.
    So Beth put her hand to the wall and made herself breathe slowly in and slowly out. She bowed her head for one moment, keeping an ear out for the sound of Jamie’s—Eric’s—door opening behind her.
    But he didn’t follow her, and Beth calmed down, and when she opened her eyes she was steady enough to walk. There were two men on the far side of the kitchen, and they watched her as if they feared she might snap at them like a mad dog. She ignored them, and was reaching for the double doors when they swung inward.
    She stopped short, clasping her hands to her chest. It was him. The man who was really named Jamie. And it was all so obvious in that moment. This man was the Jamie Donovan she’d heard rumors about. He was handsome and roguish-looking, and she could perfectly picture him wearing a kilt and flirting as he delivered beers to customers. Eric, on the other hand, looked like a man who never bothered with flirting. If he wanted you, he wanted you; it was as simple as that. It certainly had been the night they’d met in his room.
    “Hey,” the real Jamie said, his eyes looking down the hall for a moment before refocusing on her. “Is everything okay?”
    She almost laughed. Sure, everything was just great. Except that she’d been betrayed and used and made a fool of. Her cheeks warmed. “I just want to go,” she said, hugging her arms to her chest.
    “Oh. Sure. I’m just sorry about the…” His eyes darted toward the offices again. “Confusion,” he finished weakly.
    “Confusion. Right.” She wanted to smile, to pretend it was no big deal, but instead she found herself blinking back tears. “Sorry I yelled at you earlier,” she said quickly. “I was a little surprised.”
    She brushed past him and started to push through the doors, but he turned and held out a hand to stop her. “Do you want to go through the back?”
    She froze. At this point, she could only pray she didn’t know any of the customers who’d so eagerly watched the argument. What if she walked toward the front doors and a friend stopped her for more