Josh pushed the hotel room door open to find his partner waiting with dinner and a stack of paperwork.

“What happened to you?” Allen asked. “Were you in an accident with a runaway beach mobile?”

Josh collapsed onto the bed. “Is there such a thing? If so, I think it was a hit and run.”

“Seriously, man. What happened? Did you get her to agree? Did she sign the contract?” Allen hovered at the edge of the bed, where Josh knew he would stay until he got an answer.

Josh started to shrug but it only reminded him of the day’s failure. “No.”

“What? Is she playing hard-to-get in the hope for more money?” Allen paced. He always paced, and while his pacing irritated Josh as much as his hovering did, the guy had a right to express his concern. Allen was invested in the company almost as much as Josh was. A not-so-silent partner. “No, it’s not about money.”

“What then? Is she some old lady who’s just being difficult? Remember that woman we worked with last year? God, that was tough.”

“No, she’s not old or difficult. She’s young and…” Josh shook his head and sat up. “Okay, maybe a little difficult. I don’t think she means to be, though. She doesn’t want to do this.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but I plan to find out. If I’m going to convince her to tweak that drawing or at least give us the rights to it so we can find another artist to tweak it, I need to know what’s holding her back.” Josh pushed from the bed. “I’m gonna shower off, eat, and hit the hay. In the morning, I need to do a few things so I’ll be getting up early. Can you handle the office stuff for one more day?”

“Yeah, no problem. Finalizing contracts and working with our regulars I can handle. It’s your job to secure new contracts. You are the sales guy.” Allen returned to the round table covered in papers and his laptop in the other room while Josh staggered into the bathroom for a much needed shower.

He never knew sand could get into so many tiny places. Even after his shower, he could still feel grit between his toes. His skin stung and the heat of the shower pummeling his sunburned neck had been unbearable. He wiped the mirror free of steam and eyed his face. “Well, no wonder,” he muttered. “I’m fried.”

“What?” Allen called from the room.

Josh finished toweling off and threw on some pajama pants and a shirt. “I’m a lobster.”

Allen laughed. “No, dude, lobster is pale compared to you. Haven’t you heard of sunscreen?”

Josh grabbed the tray from room service and carried it to the corner to sulk. “I was too busy trying to save our company to think about sunscreen.”

“I’ll get you some from the concierge later. Just make sure you put it on before you go chasing that girl, I mean deal again.”

“Funny. Real funny, man.” After finishing his dinner, Josh laid back with a full belly and thought about his conversation with Lily. Something told him her reluctance had less to do with the work and more to do with the emotional aspect of the piece. He wasn’t a psychologist, but he’d worked around enough artists to recognize when their muse had vanished. If that was her issue, he’d have to help her find a new one.

“What’s up?” Allen grabbed his bottle of water and hopped onto the other bed with a good bounce before settling into the pillows.

“Hmm?”

“You look like you’re brooding.”

“No, just processing the situation.” Josh moaned. “Man, it even hurts to talk. My skin is on fire.”

“I’ll add aloe gel to my list,” Allen muttered, making Josh feel like a whiner. Allen propped himself up on one elbow and studied him for a moment. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

Josh smiled then shrugged, but his skin protested and he winced in pain.

“What’s that smile about?”

Josh couldn’t tell him. Allen would think he was becoming infatuated and give him a lecture about not mixing business with pleasure. He had no intention of doing either. “Nothing. You had to be there.”

Allen flopped back into bed. “Oh, no.”

Josh rolled over to face him, wincing with each movement. “What?”

“She’s not just pretty. That girl’s probably drop-dead gorgeous and already has your attention. I haven’t seen that look on your face since the time you first met Natalie.”

Josh rolled toward the wall, shutting down that conversation before it could begin. “Lily’s an artist we need to satisfy our client, nothing more.”

“Sure, sure. An artist you call by her first name and who makes you smile when you think about her. Nope, nothing to worry about at all.”

Thankfully, Allen didn’t try to dig any deeper, but the silence that followed didn’t help sleep come any sooner. The traffic outside was too noisy, the air-conditioning was too stale, his sunburn stung too much, the job was too important, and the girl was too beautiful.

When the sun finally rose in the morning, he put on loose-fitting dress pants and a shirt, leaving his tie and coat hanging in his garment bag. By the time he arrived at the cottage, it was ten o’clock and the heat was suffocating.

Connie opened the door, looked at his face and burst out laughing. “Oh, she’s making you work for it, huh?”

He tried not to growl with impatience, but the sting of his sunburn was making him cranky. “Can I speak with Lily, please?” he asked as politely as he could manage. Connie opened the door further, and he spotted Lily sitting at her easel working on that monstrosity of a painting. “Can you take a break for a while to talk about my offer?”

Lily shook her head, but he was in no mood to take that as an answer. “Five minutes and I’ll leave.”

She glanced up at him, but unlike Connie, she didn’t laugh. Instead, she pressed her lips together then disappeared out of the room. She returned a moment later with a bottle of some kind in her hand. “Sit.”

He stood there for a minute, trying to assess the situation.

“You’re down to four minutes.” She gestured toward the kitchen table. “Sit.” He complied, but instead of sitting beside him, she opened the bottle and poured some of the contents into her palm. The green sludge smelled like a mix of eucalyptus, aloe, and pond scum.

He scrunched away from her. “What’s that?”

“It’ll take the sting out.” She shook her head at him. “This is Florida. You should wear sunscreen, you know.”

“I was too busy chasing after you. I haven’t chased a girl like that since Susie Bonatoski in preschool.”

She laughed, not enough that she seemed happy, but all he could think was that it was good to see her smile. A girl that beautiful shouldn’t look so sad all the time.

She dabbed small amounts of the lotion on his nose and cheeks and forehead, then rubbed the blobs into his skin. Her touch was light and gentle, the lotion cool and soothing. He didn’t want to admit it, but the obnoxious smelling lotion really did instantly remove the sting. “What is that stuff?”

“Something the locals make. You can’t buy it in a store.”

“Why not? They should sell that.”

She stopped applying the lotion and stared down at him. “Not everything is for sale, Mr. Business Man.”

“I didn’t mean…” He sighed. “Mr. Business Man?”

She moved to the back of his neck and the cooling relief felt heavenly. Not just the lotion, but her massaging touch. Thinking that he liked her this close to him, he froze and forced his thoughts somewhere else. “Um, so, are you almost done with that…that painting?”

Her hand retreated, and he heard the top on the lotion bottle pop closed.

“I need to get back to work. I’m on a deadline. That painting is helping to pay my bills right now.” She set the bottle on the kitchen counter then headed back to her easel.

“Wait, I still need to talk to you more about our proposal.”

“Sorry, your five minutes are up.” She sat down in her chair and picked up her paint brush. “I am sorry about the sunburn though.”

From the genuine guilt he saw in the way her eyes drifted down to her paints at her side, he knew she meant it.

“Come on, businessman Josh. Time for you to go.” Connie ushered him out the door.

“But I still need to speak to her about this deal.” He grabbed the door frame and leaned back into the cottage. “Don’t you feel bad about the sunburn?”

“Not that bad,” Lily mumbled.

“Come back tomorrow,” Connie said before she closed the door.

He stood on the rickety wooden porch for a moment then hurried to the shaded driveway where he’d parked his rental car. Fine. He still had time, but for now, he needed to get out of the sun.

* * *

The next morning, Josh rolled off the bed, his skin feeling a little less like it was going to split open with every movement. As he got dressed, he decided he needed to pull out all the stops to get Lily to talk to him. Maybe flowers would work, he thought. Girls liked flowers. Even the artists he’d worked with back in New York always liked it when he brought them bouquets for their gallery shows. He found a florist in town and he bought a bouquet of mixed, colorful flowers. Roses were too romantic, carnations too familiar, like something he would give his mother.

Connie opened the door, eyed the flowers in his hands, then shook her head and chuckled. “You’ve got to do better than that.”

“What’s a guy have to do, then?” Josh mumbled under his breath.

Connie sighed. “She’s already working. Sorry.” She shut the door.

For three days, he came back with a different gift, but was turned away each time. Candy, flowers, even coffee—nothing worked. On the morning of the fourth day, he rose and threw a pillow at Allen. “Get up.”

“Huh?” Groggy, Allen rolled over and looked at the alarm clock on the table separating their queen beds. “It’s five in the morning.”

“That’s right, and we have work to do. I need you to run interference while I try to get to Lily. That sister of hers is blocking me for some reason. I don’t know why. I thought she’d be on my side since she seems to handle the finances, but I’m done playing Mr. Business Man.” He tossed a shopping bag at him. “Here, put these on.”

“What’s this?” Allen pulled shorts, a T-shirt, and flip-flops from the bag. “Are you serious? What kind of business meeting is this?”

“An unorthodox one. Do you want this contract or not? We have twenty-four days left until our meeting in New York with the client, and I need to get that image.”

“Fine, fine. Let me shave and get ready.”

“Brush your teeth and we’re out the door.” Josh put on shorts, a t-shirt and flip-flops himself. The shoes felt foreign, but comfortable. He eyed himself in the mirror and tussled his hair the way Lily had that first day. He’d never worked so hard for a woman—contract in his life.

They picked up coffee from the place Lily had taken him to and arrived at the cottage at six in the morning. To his surprise, Connie actually answered the door already dressed in shorts and a button-up shirt. She eyed them both, her gaze settling on Allen a moment longer than necessary. Josh could tell by the flicker of interest in her eyes that his plan was working. She held out her hand. “One of those for me?”

Allen grabbed a cup from the cardboard carrier and handed it to her. “Yes. Um…I’m Allen. Allen Bolton. Nice to meet you.”

She took the cup with a nod and turned her attention to Josh. “Better. She’s two blocks down on the beach. You can take a bike from the carport. Good luck.” Turning back to Allen, she asked, “Allen, would you care to join me for breakfast? I have a feeling you going with him would only shut her down more.”

“Sure.” Allen took his coffee and shoved the carrier with the last two cups at Josh’s chest. Good thing he’d had the forethought to put stoppers in the lids.

“Good luck,” Connie said again. “You’re gonna need it.” Then she closed the front door after ushering Allen inside.

A minute later, he mounted the bike, holding the coffee carrier in one hand and steering with the other. It probably would’ve been easier to walk the two blocks, but without the bike she’d be able to ride away from him, and he wasn’t going to allow that.

He spotted a towel, shoes, and some art supplies on the beach, but there was no sign of Lily. The fresh morning breeze cooled the sweat from his bike ride, bringing with it the scent of the ocean. He took a deep breath, realizing he’d never really smelled the ocean. The bodies of water around New York City didn’t smell this crisp and clean. He made his way to the towel and scanned the horizon, seeing a head bopping in the ocean. Mental note: bring a bathing suit tomorrow.

He plopped down and took a swig of much-needed caffeine then eyed the sketchbook. With one more glance at the bobbing head, he decided to sneak a peek. After all, he was going to pay this girl an exorbitant amount of money. From the research he’d done on her, she’d left her old employer because she wasn’t easy to get along with. The gallery owner had said not to bother reaching out to her, but Josh demanded her contact information anyway. It took three more phone calls to figure out where she’d disappeared to after she left New York, but he’d managed to find her.

He opened the front cover and found a beautiful lifelike ocean scene. Page after page, he discovered a new way to look at the world. The personality of the animals, the depth in the bird feathers, the realism in the crab claws. About halfway through the book, he found a drawing of people on the beach. They looked animated, like they were in motion, yet not as lifelike as the drawings of the animals. On the next page was a face, a flat, expressionless face like it had been drawn by an amateur. The following pages contained more sketches of flat, lifeless people. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when more beautiful animal scenes filled the pages. Then he saw eyes, a drawing of two blue eyes with depth and dimension like he’d never seen. He blinked and looked closer. They were his eyes. Was that how she’d seen him?

The bobbing head rose from the ocean, morphing into a perfectly tan, firm body that would’ve turned every head on the beach if there had been anyone else there. She sauntered up the sand with water dripping from her long hair down the curve of her hips to her defined calves. She stopped short, her gaze narrowing on the book in his lap. He’d forgotten all about it the moment she’d emerged from the ocean like Venus.

“Ever hear of privacy?” She dried off her hands and snatched the book away. “Knew I couldn’t trust you.”

Great. That wasn’t how he’d hoped their meeting would start. But, dang, she was hotter than the Florida sun beating down on his northern skin.