My first thought is who opened the damn curtains? Sun streams into the room, and I blink against the glare, cursing the tall, lake-viewing windows. Then it hits me that I’m alone. The mystery is short lived as the scent of muffins wafts into my foggy brain. I wander into the living room, spot my underwear, and stumble into them on my way to Audrey. Naturally, she’s got coffee made already. I pour a cup and nuzzle her neck from behind as she pops the muffins out of a silicone tray. She’s already dressed in a flowered sundress that seems to wrap around her.

“Thanks for the coffee and muffins.” I nip her earlobe. “And for last night.”

She laughs wickedly. “Last night was all my pleasure. But the coffee and baked deliciousness are for the clients who just called from the end of the drive.”

The semi erection that had been starting to rise dies in an instant. My clothes. The bedroom. I look at my watch. My clients!

“Oh, shit. And I’ve got a showing right after yours. My people will be here in like 20 minutes.” I set the coffee on the counter and head off to the bedroom where I stashed my bag at a dead run.

“You’re really losing your edge Caleb,” she calls playfully.

“We said no sabotage!” I shoot back over my shoulder at the top of the stairs. “Clearly this was your evil plan all along!”

Her laugh rings out pure and happy, and I’m smiling as I rush to shower and throw on a decent looking suit in record time.

Audrey’s clients arrive as I’m deciding against wearing a tie, given the vacation feel of the property. I finish dressing, tidy up the shower and my things, and then remember the master bedroom in horror. Has Audrey had time to clear away the evidence of last night’s fun? I listen for any exclamations of disgust and relax when all seems calm. Should have known she’d have that part covered. Staging and details are another of her strong suit, as evidenced by her muffin proclivity.

I make a few calls and line up another potential buyer. Sure, I still want to sell the property, but it seems silly now to think Audrey and I have to share our clients’ fight. When Audrey leads her clients into the first upstairs bedroom, I scuttle past. They’re poking into closets, so I wink as I pass.

They’re still inside when my clients arrive early, so I lead them around the grounds. The summer heat hasn’t set in yet, and the wind off the lake blows high, fluffy clouds around the blue expanse. We chuckle over dodging willow branches, peer into the fish pond, and chat about the grounds.

“Who is that?” The guy asks as Audrey sees her buyers off. His wife looks and shoots a sharp glare at her husband. That tells me a lot about this pair.

“Audrey’s another agent showing the property today. Don’t worry about being rushed; we can take all the time you need. You’re gonna love this place.”

They do love it, but I have this feeling that the way this guy stares at Audrey’s chest is going to make this sale another bust. Not her fault, and I certainly can’t blame the guy. After all, I’m copping a feel every time I get close to her and no one’s watching. She’s no better. Once, I’m following my people to the lake, and Audrey’s sipping coffee on the veranda. When they step out of sight, she makes a sound that catches my attention, then tugs her calf-length dress up, widens her knees, and flashes me a view of the underwear she’s not wearing.

I nearly fall down the steps.

Another couple of buyers come and go, and we move more fluidly in each other’s paths. She’ll offer some suggestion for redecorating in answer to my client’s question, or I’ll happen to catch a numbers conversation and put in my two cents. I don’t have time to stop and wonder at how well we’re working together as head to head competitors, and frankly, I’d rather not anyway. I don’t want to look too closely at this and have it fall apart. When one of her clients is in the restroom, I push her against the wall, shove my hand inside her dress to caress her nipple until it hardens under my palm, and plant sensual kisses along the side of her neck. When the toilet flushes, I wink as I step away, leaving her to hastily rearrange her bra and dress before the aging, former TV actor walks out to leer at her some more.

Audrey’s client, a divorced CEO who wants to entertain friends in lavish weekend parties, wants a second look at the dock. We watch from the veranda, sharing a raspberry-mint muffin I managed to cajole from Audrey.

“Aside from the obvious reasons, I’ve enjoyed this weekend,” she says.

“Yeah, me too. You know, I miss working with you. It was almost like we still worked together this weekend, working our own leads but somehow on the same team.”

She sighs. “I miss it too.” Her eyes are distant, and I want to pull her back.

“It hasn’t been the same since you left. I don’t know. I’m not even selling as well as I used to. Maybe I need you around to remind me how to connect to clients.”

“Hitchens and Donner is really competitive. You’d do well there, but it’s not the right place for me.” She smiles sadly, but winks. “All this stress is not good for my aura.”

“Oh, I saw that right away. We should buy this place together. Just eat muffins and screw all day long.”

“That seems like a reasonable plan for our future. I can totally live off muffins, coffee, and sex.”

“I like that. I can give you plenty of sex anytime you want.” I grab her ass playfully, but the client finally stops examining the wood grain down there and starts toward the path, so we step apart.

My final buyers seem like a decent prospect, but the showing goes fast. As I walk the two women and their daughter to the car, I wonder how to ask Audrey what she expects and wants from this. From us. Normally these things come easy to me, but not with her.

Inside, Audrey sets her phone down and begins stacking leftover muffins in a clear plastic bin. Her tidy rolling suitcase and purse are stacked at the bottom of the stairs. I face her over the kitchen island.

“Hey, gorgeous. When am I going to see you again after this?” I hate the way it sounds glib.

Instead of something flirty, she says, “Um, I don’t know. Soon, I hope. I need to get back to the city for an appointment this evening, but I’m not sure what my schedule’s like coming up.” I don’t like the way she’s fiddling with the muffins instead of looking at me. “It’s been really great reconnecting. I’d forgotten what a good team we make.”

“In more ways than one.”

She laughs self-consciously. “I really do need to run. I hope I’ll see you soon?”

“Definitely.”

“Then goodbye, Caleb. Take care.” She walks around the bar and leaves a tender, lingering kiss on my lips before walking out the door.

The house goes instantly cold the minute she closes the door behind her. I try to ignore the pang that shoots through my heart at the hasty way she left. There was no sign all day that she regretted last night. I sift through memories, searching for some wrong note, something I did wrong.

This is not how I pictured our goodbye. I planned kisses, touches, maybe a final quick and dirty round to close out the lake house sex weekend. Instead, I’m standing here with balls as blue as the sky from our flirting all day, wondering whether I will see her again.

She was hanging up the phone when I walked in, so maybe Claire summoned her back. That might make her act weird. We’ve made an awkward position more awkward by hooking up, but as far as I’m concerned, what happened here is bigger than this pair of fucked up clients.

I hope Audrey thinks so, too.