“I was new in town,” I say.
“That’s not the reason.”
“I make poor choices in men when I’m ovulating.”
He barks a laugh. “The Elsie Hoskins version of horny, huh?”
“Biology is a cruel mistress.”
“Come on. Tell me. You’re not impressed with fame, and I’m pretty sure you don’t give a crap about my money. You were polite and paid me some generic compliments, but you barely blinked when you walked into my place. So, then, what about me tempted you into my bed?”
“You’re…okay looking.”
“So, you’re admitting I’m handsome?”
“You wish. A four. Maybe. On a good day, a five.”
“Uh-huh.”
His grin softens to a smile that’s almost heartbreaking. Who is this version of Luke? I glimpsed it before. Once. One night after…well,after. His fingers gently traced my cheek before he asked me if I wanted to stay over. I was quick to say no. Cuddling leads to feelings, and that was never part of the arrangement. He said so himself.
“Do you want to know what I think?” Luke says.
I clutch the towel to my chest like it’s armor. “No.”
“I think that…maybe…” He dips his head closer, his words just for me. “You’re as lonely as I am.”
My shoulders are on fire, but a chill slides down my spine.Keep walking. I suck in a deep breath.Do not react.
Luke doesn’t just listen to me about books. He sees me. He understands. And it’s so much worse than being mocked about my clothes or how I look on the outside.
“I’ve got to go,” I mumble.
Wincing as the cotton handle scrapes against my sunburn, I hitch my bag higher on my shoulder and push past him. I can’t look back. I want to finish my Saturday with some of my dignity intact.
7
Sunny with a 100% chance of a stuck door
I turn down thenarrow alleyway and head for the stairs behind the post office. Sawyer rounds the corner from the opposite direction. He freezes. The skin under his beard flushes hot pink, and his eyes drop to the scuffed toes of his sneakers.
“Hey,” he says.
I smile. “This is an unexpected surprise.” But a good one.
“Oh, uh… You mentioned you were rentin’ Cain’s old place.” He darts me an almost guilty look. “I wanted to return your plate.” He holds up the porcelain bordered with delicate sprigs of lavender and roses. “It looks like a nice one.”
“It was my grandmother’s.”
Sawyer’s next glance seems to catch on my bare arm, tracing the pale line all the way to where my fingers clutch the knot of my towel. His palm drags down his face as he puffs out a breath.
I bite down on my lip. I don’t lookthatbad, do I? Maybe a bit like a drenched scarecrow that’s been dragged headfirst through the bay. I should invest in a better brush…
“Comin’ back from the beach?” he eventually says.
I nod. “It’s the reason I moved here. I don’t get into the water as often as I’d like to, though. If this mess didn’t take so long to dry”—I twist my hair into a loose knot over one shoulder—“I’d go for a swim every morning before work.”
His gaze lingers on the damp strands clinging to my skin.
