Carly Roberts stepped out of the car and surveyed the beach house that would be her vacation home for the next week. It was a cream colored bungalow, and the shutters and front door were a gorgeous shade of light aqua. She tipped her head back, smiled, and breathed in the sea air. It felt good to be on the coast and bask in the calming ocean vibes.

She closed the car door and walked around to the trunk to grab her suitcases. She’d only brought two small ones that would classify as carry-ons if she’d been flying, but it would be enough. Bikinis didn’t take much room.

Carly pulled out the suitcases’ handles and rolled the bags behind her up the short driveway to the front door. She still couldn’t believe her good fortune in finding this VRBO. It was one of only sixteen or seventeen in this gated, ocean side neighborhood, which made her feel totally spoiled. Usually, if you wanted to have a vacation on the beach, you had to stay in a crowded hotel or pay two months’ wages for a tiny house that sat on a major freeway.

The guard at the gatehouse had handed her a key to the bungalow once he saw her ID. As she dug in her purse to find it, Carly reminded herself she needed to call her parents and thank them again. Not only were they tolerating her moving back in with them for a month or two while she saved money from her new job for an apartment, but they were also paying for this getaway as her college graduation present. Well, half of it anyway. Penelope was paying for the other half of the week’s rent. Carly glanced over her shoulder, hoping to see her best friend’s Jetta pulling in behind her Kia. No luck. She wasn’t there yet.

Well, what else was new? Carly was pretty sure Penny had been tardy for her own birth. She would definitely be late for this girls’ vacation, even though it had been her idea. Carly remembered the pitch her best friend had given her on the idea: “Come on! Let’s just take a week to chill on the beach and drink daiquiris and margaritas. We worked hard in school, graduated with honors, and it’s almost time to join the real world. Let’s get a little wild first.”

Whatever—it was no big deal that Penny was a little late. Carly could definitely find something to do until her friend arrived. Namely, hit the private beach with a margarita in her hand.

If she ever found the keys.

She could feel her thick blond hair trying to escape from the high ponytail she’d wrangled it into before she started the two-hour drive to the coast. It was more humid here than back at her parents’ house, and she knew her hair was going to curl up and be totally unmanageable. Carly puffed air at a piece of it that fell over her forehead and tickled her nose. “Dammit!” The purse fell out of her hands, and lipstick, hand sanitizer, and Mentos rolled out along with the key she was searching for. The blown hair had settled right back over her eyes, so she brushed it back savagely and got on her hands and knees to retrieve her stuff.

Where was the lipstick? She’d seen her favorite, Angel Kiss, fly out of the purse, but now she couldn’t spot it anywhere. She scanned the small porch and finally caught a glimpse of it peeking out from behind a potted plant. She crawled over to get it, reaching behind the plant at an awkward angle. Carly could feel her shirt slipping up and felt sure a piece of her panties was showing. Luckily it was a pretty quiet street.

Just as the thought entered her mind, she heard a car on the road behind her. Carly knew it wasn’t Penelope because the Jetta’s engine didn’t roar like that. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the gigantic Ford F-250 roll past her rental and pull into the next driveway. The dark-haired driver had even darker sunglasses on, but she could tell he was watching her. She snatched up the lipstick and bolted to her feet, tugging the shirt down and pretending she didn’t see him.

Great, Carly. Way to show your ass to the guy next door before you even meet him.

Oh well. She would probably never formally meet him anyway. Penny was a go-go-go type, and she usually had Carly hopping from one activity to another when they were together. Hopefully, there would be some time to read, cook, and relax, but with her best friend around, Carly would have to fight for any downtime she wanted.

As she finally slipped the key into the bungalow’s deadbolt lock, Carly saw the guy get out of the Ford from the corner of her eye. Wow was he sexy. He wore jeans that hugged him just right, a black, short-sleeved, cotton shirt, and black boots. He walked around to the passenger side of the truck and opened the door. A brown Labrador hopped onto the driveway. As the guy walked toward the house with the dog on his heels, he waved at Carly.

Crap! At some point, she had stopped watching him with her peripheral vision and was, instead, staring at him straight on. Her mouth even hung open like a fish gulping out of water. She felt her face flush and hoped he couldn’t see it. She smiled and waved back and then fled into the coolness of the air-conditioned bungalow, yanking her suitcases over the threshold.

It was the cutest little vacation home. Carly hadn’t imagined it would be so cheerful and lovely. The décor was bright and beachy—all whites, creams, aquas, and browns—with wicker furniture and an open floor plan. The living room faced French doors that led to a large deck overlooking a private beach and the expanse of the ocean. Off to her left was the kitchen, which was airy and functional, with lots of counter space for its size. Carly walked through the living room to a short hallway, which contained three open doors. Two led to cozy bedrooms and one to a pretty big bathroom with a soaking tub and walk-in shower.

Carly smiled, clapped her hands, and jumped up and down, feeling like a small child who’d just been given the keys to an empty water park they could play in ‘til their heart’s content.

She peeked into each of the bedrooms again. Since Penny hadn’t shown up yet, it only seemed fair Carly should get to choose which bedroom to take. Both rooms were nice, but ultimately, she chose the one furthest from the living area. A king-size bed took up the majority of the small room, and a lightweight pink and mint green quilt and pillows with frilly white cases clothed it.

Carly went back to the entryway, grabbed her suitcases, and pulled them into her chosen room. She hauled them onto the bed, and emptied their contents into the tall dresser and small closet on the other side of the room. Then she shoved the bags into the closet too.

She changed into a bright peach sundress, grabbed one of the two books she’d left on the bed, and went back into the living room.

She remembered the VRBO ad said the kitchen would be stocked with some basics so occupants wouldn’t need to run out to a store immediately upon arrival. Curious about what was there, Carly rummaged through the fridge and cupboards. There wasn’t enough for the whole week, for sure, but she would be able to make a nice dinner with the chicken thighs, barbecue sauce, and salad fixings in the refrigerator. Two bottles of wine sat on the kitchen island. The thoughtful bungalow owner had even left a wine opener and glass next to the bottles. Carly put the Riesling in the refrigerator, opened the Merlot, and left the bottle on the counter to air while she went onto the deck to check out the view.

It was breathtakingly beautiful. As far as she could see down the beach in both directions, there were only a handful of people. The ocean was calm and gorgeous, and she found herself longing to go down and touch it with her toes.

Carly had worked hard in college, not taking many breaks that were longer than an evening or two. She was starting her new job as a reporter in one week. After that, she doubted there would be much time to vacation again for a while because she intended to work as hard as humanly possible, impress her editor, and move up the ranks at the paper fast.

The thought made her smile. Carly couldn’t wait to get started in her real, bona fide career. It wasn’t like journalism had been her first choice—she’d been an English lit major for a couple years. But she’d attended a lecture during her sophomore year. The speaker had been Carl Bernstein, who had heavily investigated and reported on the Watergate scandal. Carly had been completely mesmerized by his talk. She was absolutely hooked on the idea of becoming an investigative journalist and making a true difference in the world.

Carly looked around, realizing she stood on a huge, wraparound deck that extended all the way across the back of the bungalow and along each side. A few steps led down to the sandy beach. A big, shiny grill stood facing the ocean, and there was a sweet looking bistro table and chairs on the other end of the wooden deck. Well, that settled it. When Penny arrived, Carly would serve her grilled, barbecued chicken, salad, and wine on the deck.

She glanced at the book in her hand. The bare-chested man on the cover gave her a smoldering look. Carly grinned and headed for the steps leading down from the deck.

She’d start dinner in an hour or two. Until then, the raunchy romance novel wasn’t going to read itself.