My stomach growls as I slam around my kitchen, scrounging for an afternoon snack. The fridge holds a half-eaten container of strawberry yogurt and a jar of rhubarb jam. Nope and nope. I settle for a handful of Goldfish crackers from the bag I bought for Nico last week. Flavor enhanced cheesiness, because duh.

I shove the snacks into my mouth, patently ignoring the smell of barbecue wafting from my dad’s backyard. It doesn’t matter that my dad and Gayle invited me to today’s lunch with Sylvie and her mom. I cannot—will not—let Gayle claim victory here. They want me out, I’ll pretend I’m already gone. So stale crackers it is.

I set the open bag next to my computer, and take a seat. I glare at the screen as I catch the time. Jackson’s fifteen minutes late for our afternoon meeting. Why wouldn’t he be?

His text message pings through when I’m pouring the final crumbs into my mouth. Ditch the computer and come for a drive with me. Wear comfortable shoes.

I can’t decide if I’m more annoyed by him being late or by his suggestion to blow off work. At least the Goldfish have cut the sharp edge off my hunger.

Can’t. Have to work.

Another ping.

Yes, Master. Fresh air is good for creativity. Let’s go brainstorm.

I decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. Is that what we’re calling it these days?

Something like that. I’m outside so you might as well say yes.

I peek out the window and sure enough, Jackson’s little green Mini Cooper idles on the curb. It seems decidedly out of place in front of my dad’s porch—a city car stuck in the suburbs. What life did he have planned for himself before he wound up back in Swan’s Hollow? What dreams did he trade in when he came home?

Another waft of barbecue fills my nose. Jackson’s right—I need to get out of here. Fine, I write. Grabbing sneakers.

As long as we’re actually working, getting outside might be a relief. The sunshine and warm temperatures have continued for the last week, and if I sit inside with Jackson for too long it’ll turn into me doing other things with Jackson. While I’m not opposed to those other things, I am opposed to wasting time. Our order went through and I’ve now got less than three weeks until a bunch of lube shows up on Jackson’s doorstep and I’m officially kicked out.

I change into a pair of running tights that I can’t recall having ever used to actually run. Still, they make my butt look good. Then I swipe on some lip gloss and grab my phone to take notes.

I make it all the way to Jackson’s car before I hesitate, glancing at my dad’s house. A drift of voices carries on the wind and I turn back to sneak onto his porch. I pull an envelope of cash from my purse and slide it under the front door. That’s better. It’s not much money, but I need to make a tiny dent in my debt. I need to show my dad I’m trying, that I’m sorry, even if I’m too embarrassed to say the words out loud.

Jackson smiles at me when I finally slide into the passenger seat. “Took you long enough.”

“Some things are worth waiting for.”

Something unexpected flies across his face and the air goes charged and hot. A muscle in his jaw ticks and his voice comes out low and thick. “You’re absolutely right about that.”

I blush and try to pay attention to the scenery as we drive. It’s mostly rolling hills and swathes of corn and green farmland punctuated by small patches of forest. Jackson squeezes my hand and all thoughts of barbecue fly out of my mind.

Eventually we park on the side of the road a few miles out of town and follow a hand-carved sign toward a dense wood. It looks promising, but it only takes a few minutes for me to seriously regret my decision to let Jackson pick the place to walk. I hadn’t planned on quite so many hills. Or quite so much sweat. We’ve probably made it half a mile and I’m red faced and breathing heavy.

I pull my shirt away from my body and let it fall, a billow of air fanning my torso and face. I’ve switched my stance on the Massachusetts weather to two thumbs firmly down. Still, Jackson looks around and smiles at me like he’s admiring more than just the trees. I have to admit I like it.

I dodge a tree root and study Jackson’s face. “How’d you find this place?”

“I like finding new running routes.”

I grimace, the relentless climb still fresh in my mind. “Don’t tell me you run here.”

He winks at me. “I won’t say a word.”

“You are one strange creature.” Jackson shoots me a proud grin. Energy radiates off of him and it’s kind of nice, seeing him in his element. Who knew he was one part mountain goat?

Jackson reaches out his hand to help me over a large rock. “You know, we’re going to have to think about the launch.”

I accept his hand and squint at him. “Isn’t that why I pay you the big bucks, O Marketing Guru?”

“That and my charm.” When I roll my eyes, all it does is make him turn on the full wattage of his smile, teasing and way too attractive for my own good. “I can see I have quite the effect on you.”

Actually, he does. Already my pulse is picking up at the suggestion in his voice.

“Hiking has quite the effect on me.” I give up on this exercise thing and plop down on a nearby rock. God, this place is full of rocks. And dirt. And green, growing things.

The trail continues in front of me, dense with ferns and dogwood trees and small purple and white flowers. It’s pretty, if you can get past the effort it took to get here. “So what about the launch?”

Jackson sits next to me, there in the middle of the trail, and we can only just fit on the rock together. His body presses up against mine, solid and strong. I can feel his chest rise and fall as he breathes. “Well, we want to make an impact with our launch, right? Get a lot of momentum going at the start?”

“Right,” I say. “Which is why I’ve got a bunch of bloggers signing up to review this thing.” This past week, I added Oh Boy Sex Toy and The Critical Clit to my list of reviewers. Points to them for their blog names and high follower counts. “I just keep feeling like we need to aim bigger.”

“I agree.”

I sit for a minute, thinking back to the kind of branding we had designed for Penchant. Upscale, classy, like other kinds of expensive liquids. Like liquor. “I’ve got it.” I sit up straighter. “What do people like even better than an online party?”

“A real-life party?”

“Exactly.” I brighten as my brain whirls. “If alcohol companies can promote their products at a bar, why can’t we promote our products at a sex shop?”

Jackson nudges me gently. “I like where you’re going with this. It’s really damn sexy to watch your brain work.”

I blush. “Thanks.” The more I think about my plan, the more excited I get. “This could be really awesome.” I ignore the heat in Jackson’s eyes and keep talking. There’s too much work to do to get distracted. “We could pass around ‘Better than Sex’ cupcakes.”

“And serve ‘Sex on the Beach’ cocktails.”

“Holy shit, yes.” I turn to Jackson with my eyes bright, my skin flushed. “Let’s make this a thing.”

“A lube party,” he says, testing it out.

I hop off the rock and start walking. “Down the mountain,” I call over my shoulder.

“We just got here.”

I look back at him and smile. “Come on Jackson, there’s work to do.”