Justin didn't want to like spending time with Elle. She'd looked ridiculous digging plant beds with Jo's crew. She was slow and had no idea what she was doing—at least, he assumed that was the case from the way she had to ask for detailed instructions on how to dig a hole.

The rest of the crew were seasoned workers. It was a landscaping company run by Jo, one of Jess’ oldest friends, and Jo’s crew, a group of men who were tanned from working outside and wore sturdy, well-worn work clothes. They laughed and talked as they dug out the beds, lined them with thick plastic sheeting, then filled them with potting soil and compost. The crew knew what they were doing, but they had fun doing it. Still, they were rough. Their jokes fell close to distasteful and they gave Elle, in her pristine whites, a hard time.

And somehow Elle managed to win them over.

Minutes after making an ass of herself by asking how to use a shovel, she had the crew laughing about the cleanup job in the cottage bathroom.

She hadn't given up, either. Not when she fell into one of the beds, not as the day grew hotter and muggier. Not when the mosquitoes came out in hoards. Even the crew begged for a break. It was too hot, too miserable to work. But Elle hadn't complained once. He caught her glaring at him, but each time she dropped her gaze and got back to work.

Justin wasn't sure what he had expected. No, that wasn’t true. He had expected her to take one look at the dirt, stick up her cute little nose, and hightail it out of there.

But she hadn’t.

And he felt a twinge of guilt for making her work so hard. Her hands had to be torn up, and he knew from experience her muscles would be screaming the next day.

He was even more surprised when she agreed to go swimming with him. It had been a whim, a last-minute thought. Now, he wondered what the hell he'd been thinking. Taking Elle swimming? She didn't have a bathing suit?

He swore under his breath.

The rest of the crew cleared out, heading to the house for lunch, or to their trucks to call home. He waved to Jo as he led Elle to his truck, ignoring her knowing look. Elle hopped in on the passenger side, not waiting for him to open the door.

“Where is the pool?” she asked once he opened the driver side door.

He slid in and slammed the door behind him. "You'll see," he said.

She rolled down her window, then leaned back in her seat. Her ease set him back. This girl looked like she belonged in his old truck. Where was the princess?

He couldn't help but notice that her once-white shoes were stained with grass, dirt, and muck from the bathroom cleanup. Not that he'd complain. His truck wasn't the kind that made him worry about a mess.

He started up the engine and said, "Sorry about your shoes."

Elle looked at her shoes as if she hadn't noticed. She shrugged. "It's no big deal. They're just shoes."

Again. Not what he expected.

The Elle he'd met on the plane was easy to mess with because she wasn't a temptation, not really. This girl, the one tapping her hands on her knees to the sound of a country song, she was dangerous.

Justin drove, leaving Oak Bramble and heading onto the country highway. The spot he was thinking of wasn't far, but it would be easier to drive. They sped down the road with both windows wide open. The muggy air was pushed aside by crisp mountain breezes.

After he'd been driving for a few minutes, Elle reached over to turn down the music. "So, did you grow up here?" she asked.

He nodded. "Not far from here."

"Have you lived here all your life?"

"No."

She looked at him. He watched the road.

Finally, he said, "I went to school in California. Worked there for a bit. Moved back home a couple of years ago."

Elle sat up, twisting in her seat to see him better. He glanced at her, then away. Her shorts were too damn short.

"California? I guess that's why you look a little like a surfer."

He grimaced.

"You do! It's the hat. Or maybe the, um, tan."

Justin tried not to smile. He thought she'd checked him out once or twice. Now he was certain.

That was different too. He was ready for her snooty looks. Not the steamy ones that made him think she wanted to run her hands over him. Nope. Hadn't seen those coming.

"I surfed," he said. "Poorly."

"I knew it!"

Justin pulled off the highway and onto a dirt road. The smell of the forest filled the car, cooling his skin.

"So why did you come back?"

He clenched his jaw. There was the easy answer, or the hard one. He chose easy. "My mom was still here and my sister moved back. It seemed like a good time to come home."

"Your sister—the short girl in overalls."

"That's her. Amy."

"She seemed ... nice."

Justin laughed. "She is. Prickly on the outside, but nice once you get to know her."

Elle nodded and looked out her window. He slowed his truck and pulled onto a small patch of dirt. When he stopped and turned off the engine, Elle looked around.

"Care to tell me why we're stopped in the middle of the woods?"

He gave her a look. "You worried about being alone with me?"

"No,” she said. “But where’s the pool?”

He cocked up one corner of his mouth into a grin. "Have I given you any reason not to trust me?"

She thought for a moment. While she thought, she tucked a wayward piece of hair behind her ear. In that moment, she looked soft. Vulnerable. He imagined she was deciding whether or not to trust him.

"You're right," she said. She opened her door and hopped out of the truck.

Justin let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He grabbed a water bottle and a bag, then slammed the truck door behind him.

"Come on, Princess. It's not far. Unless you need me to carry your highness so your feet don't get muck on them. More muck, that is."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

"I saw that."

"I was hoping you would."

He was grinning when he started down the trail.

* * *

Elle stumbled after Justin down a small dirt path that ran through the trees. Her thoughts of a pristine swimming pool were fading quickly. Instead, she started to worry about poison ivy. And bears. Were there bears in North Carolina? Or—oh Jesus—what about wild boars? She'd read about those. She was sure of it.

Although she'd visited the mountains as a kid, she hadn't had the type of childhood where one spent time camping and in nature. Tennis courts and swimming pools, yes. Trees and dirt, no.

Justin moved down the trail like a creature of the forest, easy and surefooted, while she crashed after him. She was certain the bushes and branches were trying to poke her eyes out. Just as she swiped away the millionth branch that tried to make a kabob out of her eyeball, Justin stopped. She hadn't been watching and ran into his back. Every last sweaty inch of her on every last sweaty inch of him.

She scrambled back with a mumbled, "Sorry."

Then she saw it. She should have heard the water sooner, but she'd been preoccupied. Now the noise surrounded her. Gallons and gallons of water rushed over rock, crashing into a deep pool. The waterfall wasn't huge but large enough to create a curtain of rising mist that kissed her cheeks.

“This is not what I thought you meant when you said we should go swimming,” she said. Then, "But it's beautiful.”

"I've been swimming here since I was a kid," Justin said. She turned and caught the corners of his eyes crinkling. "It's a secret, so don't tell."

She crossed a finger over her heart. "Wouldn't think of it."

With one hand, he pulled his shirt over his head. Elle nearly died.

Seriously. She'd seen him shirtless, but the effortless tug of fabric and then, wow. It was too much.

She stepped back—because of the beautiful—and nearly stepped off the cliff.

Elle scrambled away from the edge, which was a good twenty feet above the water.

“You’re okay with this, right?” he asked. “Because you can just sit here if you’re not comfortable with it.”

He gave her a look, equal parts challenging and playful.

“Oh, yes. Of course. Sure. I’m fine with this,” She babbled, feeling anything but fine.

What made me think this was a good idea?

Because this is what she'd signed up for when she'd hopped into Justin's truck. Notably missing were a crowd of children, sunbathers—anyone who could stand between her and Justin's sexy self. But no. She'd opted to follow the shirtless wonder. Swimming with the sexy, sweaty, tattooed guy, who was looking at her like she'd lost her marbles.

Surely the sun had messed with her brain.

Or maybe he's just that good-looking, she thought, watching him.

Justin shucked off his shoes and pants, leaving on a snug pair of briefs—sweet baby Jesus, there were more of those long, lean muscles. He tossed his hat and sunglasses aside, then ran for the water. The almost-naked running was her new favorite, she decided. All those muscles doing what God intended them to do. Amen, amen, amen.

Elle caught her breath as he fell, landing with a big splash in the water below.

Justin's head popped up, and he swung his wet hair out of his face.

"You coming in or what?” he said. He was grinning, his teeth white against his skin.

"I'm coming," she said. "But I'm not going to jump like that. You have a death wish."

"Suit yourself."

Elle grumbled under her breath. Then she remembered the whole getting undressed thing. Elle peeked inside the waistband of her shorts to double-check.

Houston, we have a problem.

There were women, she knew, who didn’t wear body shaping underwear unless under extreme duress. A formal event, perhaps. A wedding. The red carpet.

Elle, who had been raised to fear underwear lines, dread a muffin top, and view stray bulges of skin as evil incarnate, wore the stretchy, body-compressing apparel on a day-to-day basis. She had curves that simply wouldn’t be contained by simple cotton or, heaven forbid, thongs, and needed the firm hand only industrial-strength shapewear could provide. She saved flimsy undergarments for moments when she knew they’d be seen. Otherwise, she wore what looked like a bum to bra line nude-colored nightmare.

The scene of Elle in her body shaping best had inspired Isabelle to compare her to the serial killer who wore other people’s skin in a famous horror film.

Suffice it to say, Elle might look smooth and bump-free with clothes over her shapewear, but the horror beneath was not her best look.

But of course, Elle was wearing her shapewear today.

Of course.

In her defense, she hadn’t expected to show anyone her skivvies when she woke up that morning. Certainly not the day after she broke up with her boyfriend, and most definitely not after a hot, sweaty morning of shoveling.

But there she was. Just a girl. Standing on a hot summer day in her shapewear, with a poor unsuspecting man watching her from below.

A true lady wouldn’t subject anyone to the sight of her sweat-soaked shapewear. A true lady wouldn’t be sweating, either, but would opt to sit in the shade to prevent the poor man from seeing the unseeable.

But Elle wasn’t feeling like a lady at that particular moment.

Even at the edge of the trees in the shade, the heat of the day made her skin prickle and sweat. She was dirty, hot, and the water looked like a giant invitation.

Really, did it matter what Justin thought?

Perhaps exposing her secret would be the best way to ensure he stayed far, far away from her.

Yes, Elle thought, making up her mind. No man could want a woman after seeing her like this.

Justin whistled a happy tune in the water below as she started removing her clothes. Poor, unsuspecting thing.

First, Elle toed off her shoes. Next, she focused on her blouse, undoing each button while facing away from the water. Was she making it take as long as possible? Maybe. Finally, with a fast swish and drop, she lost her shorts.

The whistling stopped.

Elle turned to the water, nervously tugging at the stretchy fabric, which was silly. The stuff was glued to her body with sweat and tight as a steel trap.

"You have got to be kidding me," Justin said.

Elle glared at Justin while he tried, and failed, to stifle his laughter. He wasn’t horrified … he was laughing at her! She didn’t want to stand before him in her nude-colored glory for a second longer.

There was not caring about impressing a man, and there was salvaging the last scraps of your pride. Determined to hide beneath the water, Elle stepped up to the edge of the riverbank. The small cliff rose above the pool and the water looked farther away than it had a moment before.

"Is there another way down?" she asked.

"Sure, yeah," Justin said, still trying not to laugh. "Just follow the bank."

Elle eyed the sloped ground. The grass looked slippery, and the proximity to the edge made her nervous.

Feeling like an idiot, she squatted down to a crawl, then turned.

"What are you doing?" Justin asked. He sounded like he was forcing the words. He made a wheezing noise.

Surely, she thought. Surely, the man is not still laughing at me. Because that would be beyond rude. It would be cruel.

"I'm crawling down," she said, not daring to turn to look at him. “What does it look like?”

“I don’t think you want to know what it looks like from here."

Dammit.

He was definitely still laughing.

Yes, Elle thought, she was backing up like a dump truck. Yes, her ass was in the air. Yes, her shapewear was likely making the scene bizarre, to say the least.

But could he at least be quiet about it?

“I thought you were nearsighted,” she said, focusing on inching her way down the slope.

“My vision isn’t that bad,” he said. Then snorted.

It was the snort that did it.

"You're not helping!" she yelled over her shoulder. But the movement was too much on the slippery slope.

Elle lost her balance and tipped off the edge.

“Arrrghuuuua!”

There was a moment where she was in free fall. Then she hit the pool with a painful splash. When she came to the surface, Justin was so far gone, his laughter was silent. Tears streamed from the corner of his eyes.

She splashed him, furious and humiliated.

"Stop! It is not funny! I could have been killed, you horse's ass!"

He laughed harder.

* * *

It took Justin a good five minutes to stop laughing and another five to finish asking questions about shapewear. The man knew nothing about body shaping undergarments and was, apparently, mystified by it. When she tried to explain how one entered and removed the stretchy spandex, he lost it again, and she had to wait, glaring, while he recovered.

Not nearly soon enough, his questions—and laughter—were spent. They treaded water side by side in the swimming hole, and Elle let the sound of the waterfall surround her in a peaceful cocoon.

After a few minutes, she started to wonder about Justin. He was so different from the men she dated. He didn’t try to compliment her, or censor what he said to her—and she still wasn’t sure what she thought about that. But, more than anything, it was refreshing being with a man who didn’t seem to want her to act anything but like herself.

She wanted to know more about him. Not that they were dating. And not that she wanted to date Justin. Obviously.

“So tell me,” she asked, trying to distract herself from a dangerous line of thinking. “What was it like growing up here?”

“I loved it,” he said simply. “Well, I loved this kind of stuff. Swimming holes, hiking, exploring. But it wasn’t perfect.”

She waited.

“Kids could be mean,” he said. “There weren’t many single mothers, and they liked to pick on us. It didn’t bother me as much, but my older brother had it pretty bad, and Amy too.”

Elle was quiet for a moment. “Is your dad … ?”

He shrugged. “She doesn’t talk about him. She came from a big family on the coast. Did the whole debutante thing. Got married, had kids. Then she left him. Moved up here.”

“That must have been hard,” she said.

“She made the most of it for us. When Mrs. Vanhelt hired her at the inn, that changed everything. Gave us a place to live, gave her an income.”

“So it’s more than just a job for you, it’s your home.”

He gave her a look. One she couldn’t decipher. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Is that why you work there?”

Justin kicked back a little, still treading water with ease. “It’s important to my mom. I’d like to buy the owner out, and make sure she has a place there as long as she wants it … but I’m not sure I can.”

“Because you can’t afford it?” Elle wanted to bite her tongue the moment she said it. Why did she need to bring up money? Obviously, he couldn’t afford a place like Oak Bramble. Surely it was worth far more than he’d ever earned as a groundskeeper.

“Something like that,” he said, his tone ending the conversation.

He swam closer to her, and she thought for one wild moment that he was going to kiss her.

What surprised her most, though, was that she wasn’t sure she’d mind.

He floated in the water, coming close enough she could feel the heat radiating from his body, even in the cold water. Elle parted her lips, waiting. Wondering.

Then he dunked her.

Elle came up, spluttering and furious. “You—you—! What kind of man dunks a woman?”

He gave her a sly grin, swimming away. “This kind.”

She had to laugh. Justin might not be who or what she expected, but she was starting to realize that made him far more fun. She liked not caring about how she looked, or whether she had snot running down her face. She could do whatever she wanted, without worrying about what a proper lady would do, whether or not Justin wanted her, or what her mother would think of him.

It was … freeing.

But since she didn’t care, that meant she could fight dirty. Too bad for him she was a fantastic swimmer.

Elle dove and delighted in pulling him under the water.

This time, she was the one to gloat when he rose, spluttering, to the surface.

When he recovered, he gave her an assessing look. “You’re not who I thought you were,” he said, almost to himself.

“Funny,” she said. “I was just thinking the same thing.”

“Have I graduated from an unsavory type?”

She laughed.

They swam until Elle grew chilled, then worked their way up the hill, laughing and joking. Elle kept slipping on the muddy slope until Justin grabbed her hand and pulled her up after him.

She slipped again and crashed into him, laughing too hard to be self-conscious. Justin caught her at her waist and pulled her into his body. Again, they were skin to skin. Well, skin to shapewear. But this time, she didn't pull away.

Justin's eyes, brown with those hidden bits of gold, glittered as he looked down at her.

Elle caught her breath.

For one long, beautiful moment, she wanted him to kiss her.

He looked down.

She looked up.

She moved closer.

Then, she remembered who she was, who he was.

Elle wasn’t made for flings. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d kissed someone she didn’t plan to vet as a potential husband.

What am I doing?

Elle pushed back with an embarrassed, "Sorry. I lost my balance."

He cleared his throat. "You need to stop doing that," he said, his voice was teasing, but with a strained edge.

They were quiet as they pulled dry clothes over wet underthings.

"Well that was fun," she said as they walked back to Justin's truck. "Thanks."

He shrugged. "No problem. Just …” He sounded torn about something.

“What?” she asked, not even bothering to pretend she wasn’t breathless.

He gestured to her and said, “That thing you’re wearing is see-through. I thought you might want to know.”