Why would a professional hockey player fly out here, seduce me, and then vanish again?

I can't believe I fell for a liar. I was an idiot. A blinded-by-lust, hopeful idiot who threw myself into bed with a sexy stranger, invited him to dinner with my entire family, and then woke up alone to a note.

I hope you can forgive me for lying.

Ha. Like that's ever going to happen. If Beau French or Evanko or whatever the hell his name is ever shows his hot, bearded face in this town again, I'll make sure he regrets it.

To be fair, I practically threw myself at his crotch. And okay, fine. Getting naked with him was the first time I'd felt anything worth feeling since losing my little sister. It's almost kinda nice to be fueled by the fires of rage instead of the numbness of grief. But I'm certainly not going to thank him for lying and then sneaking out of my bed like a thief in the midafternoon.

Thankfully, I have my older sister's Christmas wedding to distract me. There's no way he'd show his face there. Besides, there's no excuse good enough to make me forgive him.