Once Jill had been allowed to fawn over me for a few hours, she latched onto the subject of Sam like a dog with a bone. It seemed she had a new mission to get Sam and me in bed together, even if it involved her dragging us there herself.

“You completely undersold Officer Hottie, Jenna. Now, there’s a man who looks like he could take care of business.” She leaned back into the couch cushions and crossed her arms.

“And thanks to you and your big mouth, he now knows we’ve been talking about him!”

“Hey, you knew the risks when you dialed my number. How was I supposed to know he was standing right there?”

She had a point. I retied my ponytail and imitated her position, letting out a sigh. “I know. It’s just humiliating. And it’s made things more complicated—exactly the opposite of what I wanted this month.”

“Well, you’re not exactly making headway with anyone else. I’m sure if you explain to him that all you want is a good time, he’ll be game.”

God, I felt like such a cliché. “No. That train has left the station. We’ve progressed too far in our acquaintanceship—it would only be awkward. And, anyway, I doubt he could keep from calling me ma’am mid-coitus.”

Jill snickered. “You could work with that—he could just be your sub. You like bossing people around. Why not take it to the sheets?”

I pretended to consider it. “Not an option. My flogger is at the shop.”

“Impressive comeback. I was expecting to be hit with another roll of painter’s tape.”

“I’m turning over a new leaf.” I looked longingly at the water bottle I’d left on the coffee table but couldn’t seem to expend the energy to sit up and get it.

Jill bolted upright, obviously not sharing in my lethargy. “Hey! I just thought of something. How about Tinder? The whole purpose of that is scheduling hook-ups.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t think I could do the whole blind thing—nobody ever posts their real pictures on sites like that. What if I ended up arranging a date with the dad of one of my students or something? Too risky.” I motioned a pathetic gesture toward my water and Jill handed it to me. “And anyway, I’m pretty sure I’ve aged out of sites like that. This is getting way too out of hand. Maybe I should just give up.” I took a sip of my water and slid farther down on the couch.

Jill inexplicably leaned down and put her face near my crotch. “I don’t know how you put up with her, poor little neglected vagina.” She shifted so her ear pressed against my shorts. “What’s that? You want a closer look at Officer Hottie’s nightstick?”

I shoved her head aside, but couldn’t help laughing.

She smiled and pulled me into another hug. “I have to work tonight, but I’m going to hang here for a few hours. You should take a nap.”

I yawned at the mere suggestion. “Yeah, I think I will. What will you do?”

She shrugged. “Eh … probably go outside and enjoy the scenery. Maybe see if anyone needs help holding a paintbrush.”

I shot her a warning glare. “Those boys can’t even legally buy alcohol. Keep your siren ways to yourself and leave my painters be.”

Jill stood and put a hand out to help me up. “Can’t make any promises. Now shoo. Off to bed with you.”

I got to my feet and staggered toward the hallway.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, sis.” Jill’s voice sounded behind me.

I turned and blew her a kiss. “Me too.”

When I woke up three hours later, I had the disoriented feeling one gets when jetlagged. So I stayed in bed for a few more minutes and texted the girls. They’d just arrived at the hotel on the beach and were anxious to get out and collect shells. I let them go after a short exchange, telling them to bring home some of the prettiest treasures for the jar on our mantel.

My mind was so fuzzy, it took me several minutes to recognize the scent of bacon coming from what I assumed was the kitchen. I looked at my watch again. Jill usually left for work mid-afternoon. I was going to kick her ass if she’d called off work because of me. I got out of bed and didn’t bother putting my shorts back on. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d lectured her in my underwear.

“Jilly, you better not have called in sick. I already told you I’m fine!” My determined steps took me through the living room and right to the kitchen, where Sam Martinez stood at my island, a knife in one hand, a jar of mayo in the other, and his eyes on my exposed thighs.

Shit.

I pulled my t-shirt down to cover as much territory as possible. “Sam! What are you doing here?”

“Making BLTs. Jill let me in.” His eyes didn’t move—damn the man.

I was going to kill her. He was standing there in an army-green t-shirt and tan cargo pants, looking right at home.

“Where is my no-good sister anyway?” My legs were crossed at this point in my attempt to hide my state of undress, but I was guessing it just looked like I had to use the bathroom.

“She said she had to go to work. Did you get some rest?” He finally moved his gaze back to the counter and continued his task of sandwich making.

“Would you mind turning around?”

A sly smile crept over his face and he looked up again, this time meeting my eyes. “What would you do if I said I would mind?”

Since that didn’t deserve a response, I settled on a glare. He got the message and turned.

But before I could take one step, Sam’s shout stopped me. “Hey! What do you think you’re looking at?!”

A brief glance at the window behind him and I groaned. There stood one of the painting crew with his brush frozen in mid-air. One guess as to where his eyes were. As Sam’s voice seemed to register, the kid jerked back and then did a cartoon-like windmilling with his arms before toppling off the ladder. Luckily, we were on the first floor, so his fall couldn’t have been too far.

Sam swung back around to me. “Go put some pants on, for the love of gravy! You’re gonna kill one of these idiots!” I didn’t have the head space to process his affection for gravy.

“What did you think I was about to do just now? Do some light dusting in my undies? Geez!” I stalked off to my room and heard Sam’s firm footsteps heading for the entryway and then the sound of the front door opening and closing with force.

Just who did he think he was? Barging uninvited into my house, spying on me in my underwear—thank God I’d left the t-shirt on—helping himself to my food, and yelling at my painters?!

I tore off my shirt in a huff, only now remembering that it was the same one I’d worn while both exercising and laying on the pavement that morning. Yuck. The thought had me heading for the shower, where I’d hopefully be able to wash away both the grime and the lingering frustration at Sam’s high-handedness. With any luck, he’d be gone by the time I was finished.

Continuing with the theme of my day, luck was not on my side. When I emerged from the shower, fully dressed in a layered tank top and long shorts, Sam was back at his post in the kitchen, finishing up the BLTs. My stomach grumbled at the sight of food, announcing my presence in the room.

“I figured you hadn’t eaten,” was all he said—as if the last twenty minutes hadn’t happened. He held a plate out to me and I took it.

“You didn’t scare my painters away, did you?” I managed before taking my first bite. I moaned and leaned into the island. Either I was starving, or Sam Martinez made the best BLTs on earth.

“They’re still here, but they’ve been put on notice.”

An incredulous laugh escaped me. This guy was unreal. He was a maddening combination of old-fashioned manners and macho bullshit. I told him as much.

“What can I say? I am who I am.” He shrugged and took an enormous bite of his own sandwich.

“Isn’t that Popeye’s line? Or maybe it was Dr. Seuss.” I considered it for a moment before returning my attention to my sandwich.

He grinned around his bite. When he finished chewing, he answered. “You might be right. I always think of it as my dad’s saying, though. Soy como soy.”

“It’s still annoying,” I mumbled as I took another bite.

Sam’s grin got bigger. He set his sandwich down and brushed the crumbs from his hands. “So, Jenna. When are we going out?”

Despite my attempts to play it cool, I could feel my cheeks pink a bit. God, I was so out of practice! I chewed, buying myself some time. It still wasn’t enough, so I went to the cupboard and pulled out two glasses, then cooled my face in the fridge on the pretense of getting a pitcher of iced tea. By the time I’d poured two glasses and returned to the island, Sam had crossed his arms and was looking way too satisfied.

I took a deep breath. “Look, Sam. Despite what you heard Jill say on the phone, I’m not really looking to … date anybody right now.”

His smug look began to morph into a frown, no doubt assuming I was using the “it’s not you” speech. I put a hand out to stop any forthcoming comment.

“The dust has finally settled after my divorce, and I’m just … testing the waters while my girls are on vacation.” There. That was better.

He still looked bothered. “How long since you and your ex split up?”

“Two years. But the divorce has only been final for eighteen months.” I could hear the defensiveness in my voice.

It was his turn to put a hand out. “Look, I’m not going to try to tell you when you should be ready. I know there’s not a set timetable on these things.” I nodded in relief until he continued. “I guess I’m just wondering why you’d kiss a guy you just met and get on a motorcycle with a drug dealer, but you draw the line at sharing a meal with me.”

Ouch! I started to interject but he just continued. “I mean, I’d get it if you just weren’t attracted to me, but that cat’s out of the proverbial bag. And I think you know I’m definitely into you.” He kept his eyes on my face, but somehow managed to make me feel completely naked and thoroughly ogled at the same time.

I inhaled sharply. “Those were just …” I trailed off, clueless as to what to say.

“Those were just what?”

I tried again. “I wasn’t planning on …” Again, there was no good way to finish that sentence without making myself sound like a ho-bag or a crazy person. So I turned the tables on him.

“Okay, how do you know I haven’t been going around town sleeping with every guy I come across? Your report on my behavior certainly points toward that conclusion. Why ask me for a date and not just ask me for sex?”

“Several reasons.” He moved a step closer.

“Oh yeah, give me one.” My bravado was beyond fake, but I held my ground.

“I’ll give you three.” He put one finger up. “One, that would be uncool.” Up went the next finger. “Two, I already told you, I am who I am.” The last finger went up. “Three, you’re not that kind of girl.”

I opened my mouth, offended that he thought I wasn’t that kind of girl. Which was ridiculous, because I really wasn’t that kind of girl. This whole thing had been about washing away the memory of Mike and starting with a clean slate. It was about reclaiming my right to do with my body whatever I wanted. It was about fulfilling a fantasy and putting me first.

But it was possible, even probable, that it was all a lie. And this guy who really didn’t know me at all had spotted me for the phony I am.

Maybe he should give up his patrol beat and apply for detective.

He kept my eyes for a few more seconds, then backed up and grabbed the rest of his sandwich from his plate. I must have unknowingly communicated something that caused him to give me a reprieve.

“I gotta run. Need to sleep before my shift tonight, but I’ll be calling you tomorrow. In the meantime, stop thinking so much.” He used his free hand to tuck a strand of damp hair behind my ear. The place where his skin brushed mine felt warm.

Then he swept past me and headed for the door, leaving me at the island to figure out what in the actual hell had just happened. I should have known I wouldn’t get off scot-free, though. As a parting gift, he said, “By the way, blue is a good color on you—but red lace is my kryptonite.”

My forehead thunked on the island as the door closed behind him.

When I didn’t answer Sofia’s call later that night, she proceeded to leave me a long voicemail scolding me for not telling her what happened that morning.

Sam apparently wasted no time in ripping her a new one for sharing his business around town, but Sofia seemed far more interested in the interactions between her brother and me than any threat he may have made.

I’d always thought of Sofia as a part of my work life, so it felt a bit odd that things were creeping over into my personal life. Odd, but not bad. Just as I’d found myself having fun socializing with Riya earlier in the week, I was enjoying the female camaraderie Sofia and I were sharing—despite the complication of her brother.

This summer was bringing more than a few new opportunities to my door. I just hoped I could survive them.