Silbie straightened the blanket over Maia, then reclaimed the chair she'd slept in for most of the night. Maia's reaction to the news about Dante and Bea wasn't what Silbie expected. No crying. No screaming. No tantrums filled with vile language and accusations.

Instead, she'd finished the bottle of wine, then polished off a half-gallon of pistachio-almond ice cream, all the while discussing plans to redecorate her apartment. After that, she spent the next twenty minutes puking up her guts, since alcohol and dairy didn't mix.

Once the binge ended, she curled into a ball on the sofa and drifted to sleep.

As much as Silbie wanted to help, she couldn't think of anything to do. All the consoling in the world wouldn't mend a broken heart. Personally, she wanted to choke the life out of Dante. His offer to help find Owen was admirable, but marrying Bea wasn't necessary. Silbie had money. At least she would as soon as she signed the sequel contract. And, there was nothing she'd rather spend it on than to bring Owen home.

Maia roused, then moaned.

"Are you okay? Can I get you anything?"

She sat up, ran her hands over her face, then stuck out her tongue. "Ugh, bleck. It tastes like a skunk died in my mouth."

Silbie jumped to her feet. "Let me get you some water." In a flash, she returned and handed the glass to Maia.

She gulped, then leaned her head back against the sofa. "I may need some excedrin. There's a bottle in the drawer next to the sink."

Again, Silbie made a dash to the kitchen, came back with the bottle, and shook two tablets into Maia's palm. "How bout I run you a nice warm bath? That always makes me feel better."

"Yeah, like you've ever had a hangover."

Maia must have realized the sting in her delivery because she quickly corrected herself. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be snippy."

"That's okay. I understand." Silbie waited for her to say more, but when she didn't, Silbie did.

"It might help to talk about it."

Maia straightened and stared into space, then swung her attention to Silbie. "What's done is done. Water under the bridge. No need crying over spilled milk. Should I go on? I have a whole list of clichés to fit my situation. Oh, and the best one—what doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

"Maia..."

She held up her hand. "Stop! I should change that last one to if a bottle of wine and a carton of ice cream doesn't kill you, you'll wish it did. Funny how being drunk gave me clarity. None of this is Dante's fault. It's mine."

"Don't say that. You can't help how you feel about him."

"Felt. Past tense. And it is my fault. He made it clear from the beginning he wasn't the commitment type, although his marriage to Bea proves otherwise."

"He married her for her money. That's all it can be."

"Really doesn't matter." She shook her head, then pushed her disheveled hair out of her face. "That has nothing to do with my problem. I keep thinking I'll find the shepherd, but instead I end up with the coyote all because I romanticize about changing him into what I need for true love and a happy ending."

Last night, in her drunken state, Maia mumbled from time to time and Silbie only made out a few words. Coyote, one of them. "Not following."

She folded her arms under her breasts. "We're all sheep. Everyone. The problem is I keep getting tricked by the coyote."

Silbie wasn't sure she understood the full scope of the analogy, but Maia seemed clear about it. Best not to question too much. "Well, I guess one good thing came from Dante's bad behavior if it helped you figure that out." Silbie's phone chimed. She held up a finger. "Just a minute. It's Mom. Hello. Oh. Crap. Okay. Bye."

Before she had a chance to explain the call, someone knocked on the door. She splayed her hand in front of Maia. "Stay. I'll get it." She put her eye to the peephole, swore under her breath, then yanked on the knob. "What are you doing here?"

He stepped in, dropped his suitcase, wrapped Silbie in a bear hug and spun her around. "Is that any way to greet your favorite leading man?"

"Put me down."

He released her. "Oh, come on, you know you're glad to see me."

Silbie peered outside and scanned the area for reporters, then slammed the door. "How did you find me?"

"Tracked your phone."

"What?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "How did you do that?"

"White pages app. I can track anyone's location."

"Well, thanks a lot. You brought the paparazzi to town. My mom just called and said her street is lined with photographers."

"Sorry. That's why they're there instead of here. I lost them when I arrived in Dallas. Got a fan to take me to rent a car. He stepped back and eyed Maia, who now stood next to Silbie. He stuck out his hand. "Hi, I'm Logan Foster, Silbie's fake lover. Although, I'm more than happy to make it real. All she has to do is say the word."

Maia kept her hands at her sides. "Maia. You're more gorgeous in person than on screen."

If Logan grinned any bigger, his face would split. "Thank you, Maia."

She cut her eyes to Silbie and pursed her lips. "Prime coyote."

"Thanks again."

Silbie frowned. "It wasn't a compliment."

He cocked his head. "I'm pretty sure it is. She thinks I'm clever. You know. Wily. Like Wile E. Coyote. Right, Maia?"

"Oh, good grief." Silbie wanted to knock that smirk off his face. "He only thought he was clever. Road Runner outsmarted him every time. Remember?"

"Wile was just playing straight man to Road. It's called acting."

"Oh, dear Lord," she pinched the bridge of her nose. Her own headache was coming on. "I give up. Again, why are you here, Logan?"

"I missed you." He looped an arm around her shoulders. "Besides, you've talked about your family so much, I wanted to meet them."

Silbie drew a deep breath and reminded herself he was all alone. She shrugged away. Guilt stabbed her gut. So, he'd stay a day or two. What was the big deal? Maybe he'd be a nice distraction for Maia. Give her a chance to hone her new coyote detection skills even more.

"Okay, you can stay a couple of days, but if we're caught in public, none of the kissy-kissy, smoochy-smoochy stuff. Keep your hands to yourself or I will amputate them faster than a gangrene-infected limb. Got it?"

"Got it. No PDA, but in private..." He puckered and came at her with fish kisses.

One palm went over his mouth, the other shoved against his chest. "Behave or you have to leave."

He removed her hand and kissed it. "Okay, okay. I'll be nice. Just trying to have a little fun. It was a long drive. I'm starving. You got anything to eat? Oh, and where should I put my luggage?"

Silbie threw her hands in the air. "Whoa! You are not staying here. We have a nice little motel down the road, and they always have a vacancy unless it's during the Parkers Prairie Festival."

"Oh, yeah. I want to come back for that. It sounds like fun. But for this trip, I have to stay here. You've already said your mom's house is staked out. We can't go there, and the motel will be the second place they look." He turned his head first one way and then the other. "Looks like Maia has plenty of room. What is this, three bed, two bath? We'll each have our own bedroom. You'll never know I'm here."

He strolled to the back door like he owned the place, and Silbie tamped down the urge to trip him—or hit him with a skillet. She hated he was right. No way she could go back home. His voice brought her back from plotting the crime.

"You have a nice backyard, Maia. Got a dog? You should have. Plenty of room for him to run."

"I'm making my own plans for that area," Silbie said.

He grinned from ear to ear. "Let me guess. Break out the grill for some Texas BBQ. Right?"

"Not exactly. My plan includes you and a shovel."

Maia giggled, and Silbie loved the sound. It was the first time Maia had smiled since drowning her sorrows in alcohol and dairy.

"Oh, See-bee, you're so funny. You know you love me."

He was right. Everybody loved Logan. Couldn't help it because underneath his cocky, flirtatious attitude, beat the heart of an orphan man-child still looking for affection and acceptance. "You aggravate me, Logan. And, this house is only a 2/2. I'm in one bedroom, and Maia is in the other. So, guess where you're sleeping?"

He glanced at Maia then back at Silbie. "Well, I prefer to sleep with you because we've already been intimate..."

Silbie didn't know who looked more surprised, Maia or her. "You've lost your effin' mind."

"We have," he insisted. "We've kissed and that's much more intimate than actual sex because it allows both partners to equally penetrate at the same time."

Silbie clamped her hands over her ears. "Don't say that word! There was no mutual invasion. Your tongue was the only one attacking."

"What word? Penetration?"

She kept her hands in place and squeezed her eyes shut. "La-la-la-la-la. I can't hear you."

Logan doubled over laughing. "See, this is why I've missed you so much, See-bee. You make me happy." He grasped her wrists and pulled her hands away. "I won't say it anymore. Let's eat. Sleeping arrangements to be decided later."

Maia looked between the two and shook her head. "O—kay. Now that's decided," Maia said, "how about spaghetti? One of you can set the table and the other can make a salad."

Once dinner was over and the kitchen cleaned, Silbie and Maia brought blankets and a pillow for Logan to crash on the sofa. To Silbie's surprise, he didn't whine. Apparently, all he needed was a home cooked meal and the undivided attention of two women to suppress his banter.

By the time she climbed into bed, it was almost midnight. Although Logan got on her nerves, he'd turned out to be a diversion for Maia. And, as nice as that was, it didn't keep a jumble of other things from bouncing around in Silbie's brain. Owen's whereabouts. Dante's unexpected marriage. Maia's heartbreak. Well, more like denial than a broken heart because she was acting like nothing had happened. Silbie worried about her reaction once reality hit home—and it would, at some point. Then there was the paparazzi. The arrival of those jerks ruined everything. She wouldn't be able to go anywhere without a commotion.

The weight of her worry pressed against her chest. She couldn't breathe. She gasped, but the more she struggled, the harder it became. She pitched forward, but the pressure was too much. Someone, somewhere, groaned. No. Not a groan. More like a...

Her eyes popped wide. Where was she? Oh, yeah. Maia's. She'd been dreaming, but the heaviness was real. She placed her hand to her chest, then jerked it away and in one swift motion, fell out of bed.

Logan leaned over the edge. "Hey, See-bee, you all right down there?"

Logan is back.

Lets be real, alcohol and dairy don't mix and some of us learned that the hard way.

TEASER: "They're going to make the money demand tomorrow."

Wonder what that's about.