The damn man kissed Katie like his life depended on it, and then he walked away. That was Saturday. He’d been missing in action since. Sure, she’d seen him in the bait and tackle shop. She passed by him in the bar, but now it was Wednesday. She hadn’t talked to him, much less kissed him again since that night.

It scared the heck out of her that she wanted to do both so badly. Was it because his kisses were superior to any she’d had? Or was it that she felt a connection to him that confirmed what she knew at first glance—he was the one? She felt the tug between them, an invisible string that pulled them together. Although impossible, she knew him somehow, like they were connected by something powerful.

Every time she stood at the bottom of her stairs to her apartment, she closed her eyes and relived that brief but perfect moment.

“We’re out of muffins,” Ben called from the front.

Katie had been in the back, perfecting her cake-making skills. With the influx of tourists in town, she had to bake a bigger variety of goodies. In the corner on a shelf, she’d found several tiny loaf pans. Yesterday, she’d made miniature pound cakes. Today, she was trying out carrot cake.

“I’m on it.”

Droplets of sweat built on her brow. With both ovens running and Katie working hard to catch up, she was hot. She opened the back door and returned to dump ingredients for chocolate chip muffins into the mixer.

A shadow fell across the floor. Her eyes followed the elongated gray outline of a body until she reached the man standing in the doorway—Bowie. His hands gripped the doorjamb. He leaned in and pulled back several times. His eyes looked at her and then to the stairs that led to her apartment.

He hid his conflicted look with a smile. “Whatcha making?”

Her heart triple-timed in her chest. It was as if her just thinking about him had conjured him. “Chocolate chip muffins.”

Although she was super excited to see him, she didn’t show it; at least she hoped she didn’t show it. Over the last few days, she’d told herself to stay the course. Her desire to be independent had no room for a man who made her heart squeeze with his presence.

“I love them. Are you putting orange in them, too?” He looked around the prep area of the bakery, but he didn’t step in.

“You can come in,” she said.

He took a tentative step and then backed out the door. “I really can’t. It doesn’t feel right.”

Katie shrugged. “It’s okay, I understand. Would you like me to send your dad over with some muffins when they’re finished?”

Bowie looked at the ingredients churning in the mixer. “Only if you put orange in the mix. Bea used to add it, and no one could figure out what made the muffins so special. Brandy once told me orange essence was the secret ingredient.”

“I’ll try it.” When Katie had cleaned out the supplies, she’d found a lot of flavored oils. She had no idea what they were used for, but now she knew.

He stood there and stared at her. There was something else he wanted to say; it showed in his expression, but he kept quiet.

She stopped the mixer and walked over to where he gripped the doorway. “That kiss the other night?”

She knew she was playing with fire. He told her he wasn’t looking for anything but a good time. She’d thought long and hard about Bowie’s place in her life. He’d made it clear she’d only be a distraction.

He leaned in. “About that.” He looked to the ceiling as if the words he needed were printed there.

No matter how much she tried to talk herself out of time with Bowie, she was powerless. She justified her actions by telling herself he’d be the same for her. Bowie Bishop was nothing but a good time. If there was something she needed in her life right now, it was a good time.

“Yes, about the kiss.” She lifted to her tiptoes and brushed her lips across his before pulling away. “I’m pretty sure you could do better.” One thing she knew was, a man like Bowie wouldn’t take kindly to a girl pointing out his faults. Although the kiss he’d given was perfect, it was too short. So … he could do better.

“Is that right?” He pulled her to him and stepped into the sunshine. “You didn’t like my kiss?”

He pushed her against the brick building and pressed his body against hers. His hard chest pushed into her supple breasts. His leg took up real estate between her thighs.

She was good and trapped, but she liked it. “I liked the kiss, but it lacked length.” She’d chosen her words with care, knowing he’d read more into it than the kiss.

“Duchess, I can’t give you much, but length I’ve got.” He rocked his hips into her.

He definitely isn’t lacking length.

She couldn’t ignore his repeated warnings. He had nothing to give but his body. That was a lie he told himself, but it wasn’t her job to point it out to him. Her only job was to figure out if what he offered was enough.

Could she accept only a part of him—the long, hard part? She’d never had a one-night stand. Maybe that belonged on her list as well. Then again, it was in her nature to give her all. What if she gave him everything, and he gave her nothing but a good time? She’d told him Saturday night a good time was all a girl could hope for, but that was a lie. She wanted more. Needed more. She had no right to ask for more. She’d been given so much already, including a second chance at life she refused to waste. She’d learned life was fleeting, and she had to live for the moments.

“I’ll take what you’ve got.” Her fingers skimmed up his chest until they wrapped around his neck. Katie pulled him down for a kiss.

“I’ll take what you’re offering.” He took her mouth in a rough, lust-fueled kiss. His mouth was scorching hot against hers. His tongue did a slow sweep along the curve of her lip, making her clench her thighs around his leg.

When he pulled back, his eyes danced with dangerous intent.

“Is the batter ready?” Ben called from the bakery.

Bowie traced her lower lip with his tongue, then nipped roughly at it with his teeth before turning and heading into the shop next door.

She licked where he’d bitten her and savored the taste of him. It took several gulps of air to get her heart rate to slow down. When she walked back inside, she ran smack dab into Ben, knocking them both off-kilter. She fell to her bottom, whereas Ben was lucky enough to grab the counter for balance.

“I’m so sorry, Katie. I saw the door open and thought I’d check on you.” He offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet. “Did you get too hot?”

“Hot” wasn’t quite the word for it. She was about two degrees from internal combustion. If Bowie could make her feel like that with a kiss, she couldn’t wait to see his other talents.

“Yes, I got a little heated.”

“It will only get worse as summer approaches. There’s a fan in the storage closet. I’ll set it up.”

Ben turned and left her to the muffin batter. She searched through the flavor bottles and found the orange. After she added a splash to the mix and blended it in, she scooped batter into muffin cups and put them in the oven. It didn’t take long for the smell of oranges to mix with chocolate.

“Is that orange I smell?” Ben walked behind the counter carrying a small fan. He looked through the oven glass and sighed. “You know orange chocolate chip muffins are Bowie’s favorite.”

Katie smiled. “I had no idea. Chocolate and orange seemed like a logical pairing.” Her little fib would never be known. The speed with which Bowie moved as soon as Ben called out made it obvious he wanted no one to know what was happening between them. “When they’re done, you can take some to him.”

Ben frowned. “Oh, I don’t know. It might not be a good idea. Could bring up too many memories.” Ben plugged in the fan and watched it oscillate.

Katie stepped in front of the flow of air. She was still overheated, but it had little to do with the temperature in the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, the timer rang and Katie pulled out three dozen perfect muffins. People off the street must have smelled them, too, because within minutes two dozen of them walked out with happy patrons. She boxed up four and handed them to Ben. “Take these to your son. He’ll like them.”

Skepticism was written all over Ben’s face. “I don’t know.”

She put the box in his hand and walked him to the door. “Trust me.” Katie knew Bowie would like the muffins. He’d told her, but that wasn’t something she’d share with Ben.

Ten minutes later, he came back with a smile on his face. “You were right. He loved them. He also said they needed more orange, but what does he know?” Ben reached for a bite from the sample tray and popped it into his mouth. “I think they’re fine.”

Katie picked up the oven mitt and playfully hit Ben on the shoulder. “We don’t serve muffins that are fine, Ben. We want them to be fabulous. If Bowie says they need more orange, then maybe they do.”

“They’re good.” Ben took another bite and swallowed. “He also said everyone is meeting at Maisey’s at five for dinner.”

“Is that so? Who is everyone?” A warm feeling oozed through her insides. It was sweet and comforting, like warm syrup on pancakes. Was that Bowie’s way of asking her out?

Ben turned off the ovens. It was close to quitting time. “You, Cannon, Sage, Bowie and me.”

“Sounds great.”

She condensed what was left in the display case down to a single tray of cookies and the eight muffins she had left. At the end of the day, whatever didn’t sell, she brought to Sage. The poor girl couldn’t cook a meal—a real problem because she owned an inn that served breakfast. Thank goodness for leftover muffins and Cannon’s crockpot casserole skills. If not for that and the cartons of yogurt she bought, her guests would starve.

“You coming, then?” Ben looked hopeful.

“Is Dalton cooking?”

“No idea. All I know is, it’s meatloaf night.”

Ben had come so far in such a short time. He no longer drank his sorrow away. He faced it head on with a cup of coffee and a muffin. “One day at a time” was his mantra, and today was a good day because Ben liked meatloaf.

“I’ll be there. Now get out of here and help your son close the bait shop.” Katie shuffled him out the door and closed up the bakery.

Mini carrot cakes could wait. She packed up Sage’s goodies and raced upstairs to make herself presentable. Any girl worth her salt didn’t show up to dinner dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

She pulled a pink dress from her closet. It was perfect, with its sweetheart neckline and mid-thigh hem. Above the waist, it screamed, innocence. Below the waist, it whispered, ready.

At her age, she’d had plenty of experience flirting. In fact, she’d get an A in seduction—and an F in everything else. With a hovering mother and a dad who had a collection of guns that could rival Rambo, follow-through was near impossible.

She fluffed her hair, gave it a spritz of perfume, and slicked on some lip gloss. Tonight, Bowie wouldn’t know what hit him.

She slipped on a pair of wedge heels and walked across the street. She was the last to arrive because it was important to make an entrance. Any respectable girl knew be there at five really meant show up tastefully late to attract attention.

By the look on Bowie's face, her plan worked. He wasn’t the only one who could dangle the bait.

Up ahead stood Dalton by the swinging kitchen door. He looked at her and smiled. She waved to her group on the way to greet him. He was an important part of her plan. She didn’t know Bowie well, but she tasted desperation in his kiss. She felt the strength of his steel rod against her hip. He was ready, but one of the best pieces of advice Katie ever heard was from her Grandma Pearl. She told Katie a girl who showed the good china too early never got to enjoy the tea.

“Hey, Dalton. What are you doing tonight?”

She looked over her shoulder. Sage and Cannon and Ben were deep in conversation. Bowie paid no attention to anyone close to him. His eyes were on her, and she liked the attention.

“Going to the bar.”

“Can you skip it tonight?”

Dalton leaned against the counter. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I need a distraction.” She looked over her shoulder at Bowie. “Thought we could go to Copper Creek. I could use a trip to Target.”

He looked past her to Bowie. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I’m on the learn-as-you-go plan.”

“You know he’s broken, right?”

She kissed Dalton on the cheek. “We’re all broken.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

She walked to the table and took the only open seat—the one next to Bowie.

“The muffins were great,” Bowie said. All eyes at the table went to him the second he spoke.

She scooted in until his jean clad thighs rubbed against her bare leg. “I’m told they needed more orange.”

Bowie gave his father a dark look. “Did you have to tell her I said that?”

Ben shrugged. “I gave up booze. I gave up sleeping on stranger’s porches. I gave up lying.” He waved Dalton over and ordered five blue-plate specials. “I’m not giving up good food.”

As Ben spoke, Bowie slid his hand across her bare knee. No one noticed but Katie. Her entire body responded to the light touch of his calloused finger. The riot of emotions she felt made her heart race. Her body sing. Her core clench.

Dalton returned quickly with the blue-plate specials. It was as easy as plating up what he’d already made. Katie listened to everyone talk about their day. If it weren’t for Bowie’s hand skimming across her knee throughout the meal, she would have felt like she was at a family dinner with siblings, but no sibling would ever touch her so intimately.

“You ready?” Dalton stood by the edge of the table with his keys in his hand.

“Where are you going?” Bowie asked. “I thought you’d come to the bar tonight.”

Katie smiled. She pulled out her lip gloss and touched up her lips. “Dalton and I have plans.”

Bowie looked at her like she’d spoken in tongues. “Plans? What plans?”

Katie didn’t answer his question. She scooted from the booth. His hand fell from her knee to the seat. Bowie had been told she and Dalton weren’t a thing, but by the look of confusion in his eyes, it appeared he was no longer convinced.

“Katie and I have a date with Copper Creek.”

“A date?” Bowie repeated.

Katie put a ten-dollar bill on the table for her share of the meal and gave Ben and Sage a hug before leaning into Dalton and saying, “He goes to great lengths for me.” She wrapped her arm around his and walked to the door.

Dalton reached above her to open it and whispered, “Did you see the look he gave me?”

“No, what look?”

“Like he wanted to murder me.”

She laughed. Katie had seen the look but pretended she hadn’t. There was so much tied up in Bowie’s expression. Confusion. Agitation. Loneliness. Jealousy. Bowie Bishop was in phase one of Katie Middleton’s plan. She was the hunter, Bowie was her game.