She hurt for Doug, and from a purely selfish point of view, she missed him. She hated only being able to see him on weekends, for a couple hours on Sunday. It never seemed as if they had enough time to visit, or just relax and hang out together, playing a game, or watching a show in the living room for guests. It was hard for Doug, too, to have so little contact with family. He was still young. He needed family and support. He needed hugs and laughter and the reminder that he was more than his depression, more than the sum of his parts.

“Thank you,” she said to Troy, meaning it. “I know it’s a long drive, late at night, in terrible conditions.”

“Happy to help.” Troy reached into his coat pocket for his car keys. “So how are you going to get to work tomorrow?”

“Kara’s dropping me off.”

“Is she also going to help you get a rental car?”

Taylor nodded. “On my lunch.”

“Good. Sounds like you have everything in control.”

“Kara’s good at that.”

“I’d imagine.”

Taylor walked him to the front door, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip, screwing up her courage to let Troy know she wouldn’t be going to the Valentine Ball. Just say it. Just say it. Just get it over with.

“Troy,” she said, as he reached for the door knob. “About the ball Friday night.”

He’d started to turn the knob but he released it and faced her. “Yes?”

He was so tall, so big, and movie star handsome that for a moment her mind went blank. For a moment she just stared at him, dazzled.

And then she blinked, and the moment passed, and she remembered why he was in town, and how the big ball was in just four days.

“I can’t go with you,” she said quickly, blurting the words before she could change her mind. “And I wanted to let you know now, so you’d have time to find another… date.”

Troy didn’t immediately speak. His jaw firmed and his dark blue gaze met hers. “Something came up?”

Taylor thought of all the different excuses she could give him—her brother needed her, she had a library conference to attend out of town, her parents would be in town—but she didn’t think it was fair to lie to him, especially not after he’d done her two favors.

He’d been quite the gentleman. She owed him the truth.

“I’m not a black-tie formal event kind of girl,” she said. “And I’m happy serving on the Wedding Giveaway committee, and selling tickets, but I never wanted to go to the ball. Unfortunately, Jane can be stubborn and doesn’t really listen.” Taylor’s voice dropped, deepening. “I’m sorry if I’m leaving you in the lurch, but honestly, there are so many women who’d probably love to go to the ball with you, and now… one of them can.”

Troy drove to the hotel bemused.

The little mouse, his prickly librarian, had just rejected him.

She didn’t want to go to the ball, and she definitely didn’t want to go with him.

Troy wasn’t sure how to react. Wasn’t sure if he should laugh, or turn his car around and ask her to explain. Why exactly had she told him no?

Because she wasn’t a black-tie kind of girl?

Because she didn’t want to go to a Valentine Ball?

His brow furrowed. He slowed as he turned into the Graff Hotel parking lot, windshield wipers moving quickly to bat away the falling snow.

He didn’t mind that she didn’t want to go. He actually was relieved. They clearly weren’t ever meant to be a couple.

And yet…he was so used to women chasing him, pursuing him, wanting him, that it was a bit of a surprise to meet a woman who didn’t want him.

At all.

Troy’s lips curved as he pulled before the hotel, and handed his keys to the red-cheeked valet attendant.

He’d been impressed by Taylor’s resume over the summer. He’d appreciated her experience and knowledge of modern library science, and now he was intrigued.

Why was she so determined not to attend the Valentine Ball with him? Because he had a sneaking suspicion that she would have gone…if he had been someone else.

The next morning an exhausted Taylor stood at the kitchen counter, drinking two cups of coffee and a lightly buttered slice of toast.

It had been next to impossible to fall back asleep last night, after Troy left.

She’d tossed and turned, mashing her pillow this way and that.

Sleep had been elusive.