She rolled her eyes like I was being ridiculous before explaining through puffy, cereal-packed cheeks what had her in such a state. “So I heard from Dina who heard from Carley who heard from Addy that she had a new renter at the beach house on Sandstone Lane right down the street from your house.”
The skin between my brows puckered as I frowned in confusion. “That usually happens with rental properties, right? People rent them. It’s kind of the whole purpose.”
Luna’s cheeks flushed a pale, excited pink as she leaned in and lowered her voice like she was about to reveal she knew who shot JFK or that she’d stumbled on Coca Cola’s secret recipe or something. “Yeah, but according to all of them, she’s never had a renter that was this gorgeous.”
I snorted as I turned away and began breaking the empty box down with a box cutter. “I seriously doubt that. Tourist season brings people from all over the country. There are hot men all over the place during the summer.”
Luna let out a wistful sigh and fanned her face. “Don’t I know it,” she replied dreamily. “Damn, I miss the summer.”
“It’s still technically summertime, babe.”
“Yeah, but it’s the end of summer, which means all the talent has headed back home or been sampled already.”
My friend was what I liked to refer to as a seasonal dater. She was basically the female version of the world’s most notorious bachelor, keeping her dalliances strictly to men she knew wouldn’t be sticking around for more than a couple weeks. Three months out of the year she went nuts with the hot, single men passing through, and as soon as fall hit, it was like she went into hibernation until the following summer.
Her thought was she was still young enough that the tick of her biological clock was just a distant noise at this point, and she intended to soak up as much fun as possible before she even considered such things as settling down and monogamy.
She refused to get involved with any locals, claiming things tended to get a bit messy when you took a guy home from the bar and the dude you’d wham-bam thank-you-ma’am-ed a few weeks before lived just up the block.
“Anyway,” I said, shifting the focus back to the matter at hand, “I’m sure Addy was exaggerating. You know she tends to do that.”
“I thought the same thing. But then Sherry at Gas and Go said she spotted him when he swung through to gas up his ride, and she confirmed it. So I’m going to need you to be on the lookout for me, ’mkay?”
“What? Why me?” She let out a huff that scattered cereal crumbs all over the front of my shirt. “Oh, come on. You’re so gross,” I said on a laugh as I dusted myself off.
She finished chewing quickly and swallowed. “Sorry about that. And you know why. You have that crazy weird juju where you can get a read on a person just by looking at them.”
She wasn’t wrong about that, but it wasn’t exactly juju. It was a skill that came from years of hiding and lying about my identity. I’d basically grown to be suspicious of everyone around me. It wasn’t the easiest or healthiest way to live, but it kept Renee and me safe.
“Why do you think I never hook up with a guy until I’ve gotten the okay from you?”
Oh yeah. And it had also turned me into a walking creep detector for my best friend.
“What if this guy’s not just passing through? What if he’s planning to move here?”
She gave me a look that screamed, oh, you precious, silly girl. “If he’s as hot as people are claiming, I’m willing to make this one exception. You know, for the greater good.”
I gave her a snide look. “Oh of course. For the greater good.”
She started skip-walking backward. “So you’ll be on the lookout for me?” She lifted her hand to her ear, pinky and thumb out to mimic a phone. “And call me as if he stops in here.”
“Yes, because all I have to do with my day is watch out for your next hookup,” I said dryly.
“See? I knew we were besties for a reason.” She shot me a wink as she got closer to the door. “See you soon. Loveyoubye!”
“Wait! You didn’t pay for the”—she fluttered out of the store, the door closing behind her—“cereal,” I finished on a sigh.
“That girl,” Georgia stated with a fond shake of her head. “One of these days she’s going to meet a man who knocks her on her ass, and I can’t wait to see it.”
That made two of us.
Chapter Two
Sawyer
I pushed into the coffee shop later that day, in desperate need of caffeine to beat back the afternoon lull that usually hit me around 3:00, making it nearly impossible to stay on my feet or keep my eyes open.
“Hey, Mon,” I greeted, brushing my wind-blown hair out of my face. She stood behind the counter, her elbow resting on the wooden top, her chin in her palm as she stared off. “How’s it—?”
“Shhh!” She waved her free hand in my face to silence me.
I clamped my lips shut and rolled them between my teeth. It was then that I noticed the coffee shop was eerily quiet. “What’s going on?” I whispered as I looked around. It seemed every woman in the building was staring in the same direction as Monica.
“New guy came in a few minutes ago,” she whispered back. “And holy walking orgasms, Batman. Pretty sure my panties went up in smoke the minute he pulled the door open.”
“You’re as bad as Luna.” I shook my head good-naturedly. “He’s just a man,” I continued as I turned to look to the person everyone was gawking at. “You’d think no one here ever saw one before—holy God. Is that him?” I hissed when I finally caught sight of the man sitting at the small, round table in the corner.
His rich, chocolate-brown hair was a little long, flipping at the ends around his neck and ears. As I stared, totally transfixed, he raked his fingers through the dark strands, pushing them back from his face and giving me an unobstructed view of his profile. And what a profile it was. From that angle I could see he had thick, arched brows, a straight nose, a strong, square jawline that hadn’t been shaved in a few days, and distinct, chiseled cheekbones.
Golden tanned skin stretched around a thick, veiny forearm and a bicep that bulged as he lifted the coffee cup to his mouth and took a sip. There was no missing the fact that his hand was so big, the mug looked dwarfed beneath his long fingers and a wide palm. But what had to be the hottest thing about the guy just then was that he wasn’t just sitting there messing around on his phone, oblivious to anything other than what was happening on the screen. No, on the table before him was a hardcover book that held his complete attention.
There was just something about an attractive guy reading a book that made him off-the-charts hot. At least to me. And from the collective sigh that filled the air from every ovary-carrying adult in the room as the stranger turned the page, it was easy to tell I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
Monica gave me a snide look, arching a brow. “You were saying?” she teased.
“Whatever,” I grumbled, forcing my gaze from the stranger. I’d been staring so hard I was beginning to feel like a voyeur. “I’ll admit he’s attractive—”