“Lulu? C’mere girl. Where are you?”

I walked through my neighbor’s empty house looking for the scruffy little white dog. Normally, she came running to greet me the moment she heard me open the front door, but this wasn’t a normal week. Three days ago, I’d found sweet old Mrs. Craig unconscious in her bed. I called an ambulance, but she passed away later that evening at the hospital.

I missed her, but she’d been sick for so long. It was good she was no longer in pain. Poor Lulu was an orphan now, but since I’d been the one caring for her these last few months, I hoped it wouldn’t be too stressful on her. If only I could find her.

“Lulu?” The house was empty, but not quiet. Though it was early evening, it was still over ninety degrees outside. Therefore, I’d left the noisy window air-conditioning unit on today. Otherwise Lulu would’ve melted.

The living room was dark and dusty. After I let Lulu out, maybe I could dust in here. Mrs. Craig’s only child, Alexander, had flown in from Cairo for the funeral. Xander, as he was referred to, was a local legend in Fairview. In high school, he’d been captain of the football team. Now, he was a world renown photographer. Ask anyone in our small town of 8200 people, and they’ll talk your ear off about him. He was the living example of a hometown boy made good.

“C’mon, Lulu, where are you?” It wasn’t like her to hide—unless she just couldn’t hear me. The stupid window unit was loud and inefficient, but Mrs. Craig hadn’t been able to afford to install central air.

I looked behind the couch for Lulu. Maybe she was taking the loss of her owner harder than I thought. Perhaps she was hiding upstairs? But Lulu was getting older and didn’t climb the stairs much anymore. And Mrs. Craig had spent much of the last half year in her bedroom. Except for the times I carried the little dog up there, she didn’t ever leave the main floor.

Making my way over to the ancient armchair in the corner of the room, I stopped to admire a picture of Xander on the mantle. In his football uniform, he looked the way I remembered him from when he lived here. His dark blonde hair and tan made him look like a Greek God. He hadn’t been your typical high school jock, either. Even then he’d taken photographs both for the school newspaper and the yearbook. He’d been smart and handsome. I was only the little girl next door with a crush, but even I knew that.

Today, at the funeral home, he’d worn a black suit. Or maybe I should say he owned that black suit. I probably wasn’t supposed to notice how hot he looked at his mother’s funeral, but I had. It would’ve been impossible not to. My parents and I had waited in line for our turn to give our condolences, but just when we’d gotten to the front of the line, the Fairview mayor arrived and cut in. He’d blithely led Xander away, reminiscing about every football game he’d ever seen Xander play in.

Suddenly remembering my mission, I tore my eyes from Xander’s picture and looked behind the armchair. No Lulu. Damn, where was that little dog? Could she possibly have gotten into the garage? I headed to the kitchen to find out. It didn’t seem likely, though. Mrs. Craig sold her car years ago, and the only time I went out there was to get birdseed for the feeders out back.

With a loud creak, the door to the garage opened. “Lulu?” I flipped on the light and got a surprise—there was a black car parked there. What on earth? In the weak light, I could see a pamphlet on the dashboard from a rental car agency. Which could only mean one thing.

“Is someone here?” A voice issued from deep inside the house, and I jumped.

Xander! He was here, and I’d just let myself in like I owned the place. For a half second, I contemplated stepping into the garage and slipping out the side door. Earlier at the funeral home, I’d been wearing a nice dress. Now, given the heat, I was wearing tan shorts and a pink shirt with straps. I’d even taken off my bra. I was on the small-chested side, so I didn’t always wear one, but I certainly would’ve if I’d known he was here.

“Who’s there?”

Dammit. I’d better say soon or he might call the cops and report a burglar. Slowly, I closed the door behind me and stepped into the kitchen. “It’s me. Rachel. From next door.”

“Rachel. Jesus. I heard a voice and wondered if the place was haunted.” He stepped into view and my jaw dropped. “That’s a laughable thought on most days, but not when you’ve just been to a funeral.”

Normally, my heart would go out to someone who said something like that—but… but… right now I couldn’t clearly my mind. The only thought running through my head was that Xander Craig was standing across the kitchen from me… wearing a towel.

Wearing only a towel.

Holy crap—I’d thought he looked good in his suit today, but this was a whole new level of masculine perfection. I wished I had more eyes to view all of him at once. As it was, I didn’t even know where to start. His abs—actual countable abs—were glistening, droplets of water trailing down the defined ridges. His pecs bulged, making me want to nibble on the hard little nipples that sat atop all that muscle. And his biceps… no wonder he could carry his heavy camera equipment as he hiked to remote villages on the other side of the world.

But as amazing as all that looked, it was the white towel that kept drawing my eyes. The way it hung off his hips. The way there was a bulge in the front. The way it looked like it might fall down at any second. God, I wished it would.

By the time I finally remembered that he had a face, it was too late. His lips were quirked upward in amusement, and there was a gleam in his moonlight blue eyes.

My face burned. There was no taking it back. No erasing the fact that I’d been practically drooling over him. Or that I still was—but now I was trying to be less obvious about it.

“So… I guess I took you by surprise, too.” His eyes sparkled and there was a note in his voice that told me he wanted to laugh but was too polite.

“I… I…“ Dammit. I seemed to have forgotten how to speak. How did it go again? Oh yeah, you combined a noun and a verb, that was it. “I was going to let Lulu out.”

Tentatively, I took a step farther back into the kitchen. I wasn’t entirely sure my legs would still support me.

Xander still had a gleam in his eye, but at least the smirk was gone. “If it isn’t Rachel James. I saw you earlier at the funeral home wearing that navy dress, and I thought you were all grown up. But now, with your hair in a ponytail and your cute little shirt and shorts, you look like the little girl who used to spy on me from her window.”

Oh God. I hadn’t stopped blushing from being caught checking him out, but now my face flamed even more. He made me feel like a little girl, too. A shy, awkward girl who didn’t know the first thing about how to talk to a boy. Especially not a boy who’d grown up to look like that.

“Still the same blush,” he observed. “Has anything changed?”

Had it? At the moment, it didn’t feel like it. “Um… I just finished graduate school.”

“Guess you made it past the fifth grade then. I knew you could do it.”

I laughed weakly. I’d been in fifth grade when he was a senior in high school. That made him only about eight years older than me, but his confidence, charm, and let’s face it, incredible body made me feel like a bumbling child.

As good as he looked, part of me still wanted to flee. If my face got any redder, it might light on fire. Why was I even here? Oh yeah. “I, um, I can’t find Lulu.”

“She took one look at me earlier and made a beeline for the hall closet. She’s never liked me.”

“She’s probably just scared. This has been hard on her, too.” Concern for the sweet little dog momentarily overcame my mortification.

I took a step forward, and Xander moved toward the sink, letting me pass. Deep down, I wondered if he knew I’d be too embarrassed to walk right past him while he was wearing so little.

Trying not to think too much, I tugged open the closet door. Like many things in the house, the wood had warped and sometimes it wouldn’t close all the way. That was likely how Lulu had gotten in in the first place. Speaking in a low, soothing voice, I leaned in, picking up the scared little pooch in my arms. It wasn’t until I straightened up that I saw Xander leaning against the back wall by the kitchen. And I’d just been completely bent over, practically mooning him. Could this evening get any more embarrassing?

As if in answer, he had another smirk on his face as I marched back through the kitchen and set Lulu down on the deck. The little dog raced off to do her business in the backyard. Poor thing—I should’ve come over earlier, but I’d wanted to shower and change after the service. Apparently Xander had had the same plan though he’d only completed the first step.

I opened the door and Lulu trotted back inside. She went straight to her food and water dishes, and I refilled both, careful not to moon Xander this time. When I was done, he had a faint smile on his face, as if knowing the reason for my awkward movements. “So… do you want me to come let her out in the morning?”

Xander crossed his arms, thinking about it for a minute. “Now that I know where she hides, I’m sure I can manage to get her into the backyard. The question is will she return when I call her?”

I thought about it. “I’m not sure. But if she doesn’t, just let me know. I’ll come get her.”

“Thanks. She’s a quirky little thing, but my mother loved her.”

“She’s a good girl, but she sometime gets nervous around men.” Wait, was I talking about the dog or myself?

“Imagine that,” Xander said, and the smirk returned. “So next time… if I wear more, will you talk more?”

God, this man could make me blush. No wonder he mostly developed his pictures in black and white. That was probably because all his female subjects were blushing—a thought that made me feel an odd twinge of envy. But jealousy made no sense. It’s not like I was anything more than the little girl next door to him.

He was staring at me so intently that it dawned on me that he was waiting for an answer to what I’d thought was a rhetorical question. “Probably.”

Xander laughed. “Well, I’m eager to test that theory. Can I have your number?”

Oh my God. He wanted my phone number? My pulse sped up to an even higher rate than when I’d first seen him in the towel. But then he spoke again. “In case I can’t get Lulu back inside in the morning.”

Oh. Of course. How could I have thought he meant anything else? Shyly, I started to recite my number, but Xander patted his waist and then his hips, as if searching for pockets. “I don’t have anything to write on. Just give me your phone.”

Struck dumb by the sight of him sliding his hands up and down his body, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, swiping it open. I took one step closer, then another, and handed it to him.

He took it from me, and the resulting spark when our skin touched plus his nearness was enough to send my heart rate into orbit again. God, he was so close I could smell his clean, masculine scent. I could see his hard muscles under his smooth, mostly dry skin. I could reach out and touch him if I wanted. Or I could slide my finger under that towel, pull just an inch, and it would fall to the floor. Of course, if I did that, I’d probably melt into a puddle at his feet.

Xander tapped at the keyboard for a few moments and then handed it back. “There. I sent a text from your phone to mine. That way we’ll both have each other’s numbers.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, pocketing it. “Um… have a good night.”

“You too, Rachel.”

I slid past him and stumbled out the front door into the hot night. But it wasn’t just the temperature that was hot, it was me, too. From embarrassment. From longing. And let’s face it—from lust. Xander Craig had been my crush when I was a little girl. I’d dated a few guys in high school and college, but there’d never been anyone who excited me the way he did.

And now we were both adults, but still worlds apart—literally most of the time. He was a hot shot photographer taking assignments all over the world. I was a recent graduate living in my parents’ house. We couldn’t be more different. And yet… though he’d teased me about still looking like the little girl next door, there’d been a couple of times tonight when he’d looked at me and seemed to recognize that I’d grown up, too.

Glancing down, I wondered if my nipples had shown through my shirt. Likely they’d jumped to attention the moment I’d seen him in the towel. If he was going to be hanging around next door, I definitely wouldn’t be wandering around without a bra. But maybe he hadn’t noticed? After all, it was a somber day for him.

But he hadn’t really acted somber when tonight. He’d been like his same old self. Playful. Teasing. Devastatingly handsome. Maybe, like me, he was relieved that his mom wasn’t hurting anymore.

It wasn’t until I was on the porch of my house that I thought to check what he’d texted. Swiping through my phone, I found the last text sent from it. It read: Xander—I *really* enjoyed seeing you tonight—Rachel.

Oh God. He did know how excited I’d been to see him like that.

Predictably, I started blushing again.