Ember POV

Ember reached the table and smiled at Smith and Willison.

“Thanks for the drink,” she said, lifting her barely touched beer to her lips and taking a long draught to quench her very dry mouth. “I think I’ll call it a night.”

“Leaving already?” Smith asked, giving her a knowing smile before exchanging a look with Willison.

Shit. Propositioning Marksman on the dance floor in the middle of the town watering hole probably wasn’t a smart idea. Ember usually wasn’t so reckless and she could almost hear Laura’s voice in her head admonishing her for tarnishing Abigail’s reputation, except…Ember grinned.

Oh yeah.

Nobody here knew she was Abigail....