Paige Bennett needed an adventure.

She’d thought it before, in passing—between her regular commute, and Sunday meal prep, and trips to the dentist for her annual checkup—but now, stuck in the middle of a busy Boston street with her heel jammed in a storm grate and a delivery van speeding straight for her, Paige realized with a pang it was too late.

This was the moment when her life was supposed to flash before her eyes. Great loves and heartbreaks, wild nights and crazy days. But all she could think about was laundry. Laundry! She’d put on a load before popping out to the drugstore, and now for some weird reason, it was all she could picture in her mind. If she died, then the wet clothes would sit in the machine for days, weeks even, getting dank and smelly, and—

HOOOONNNKKK!

A horn cut through her daze, and Paige snapped back to reality. The van was still speeding straight for her, close enough for her to see the panic on the driver’s face as she yanked, and struggled, and—

There! She finally pulled her heel free and tumbled to the side of the street just a split second before the van hurtled past.

Paige landed with a thud in the gutter. Ouch. She sat up, nursing her elbow, just in time to see the name printed on the side of the van as it sped away. Crawley & Sons. Termite extermination.

---

“I don’t know why that makes it worse, but it does!” Paige exclaimed later that evening. She’d rescued her laundry, packed a weekend bag, and headed down the coast to visit her sister on Cape Cod. “I mean, termites!”

“But are you OK?” Eliza looked concerned. “You could have died!”

“I’m fine,” Paige exhaled. “My elbow and ego are bruised, but aside from that, I’m fine.”

“Well, have a drink, relax,” Eliza told her, giving Paige a hug. “Everyone’s celebrating tonight.”

Paige looked around. The sun was setting on a beach party; a group of Sweetbriar Cove locals were gathered on the sand, with a bonfire already burning merrily and people dancing in the lights of the trucks people had driven right onto the beach. There were trestle tables of food, and music and laughter echoed on the salty sea breeze. “Remind me who just got engaged,” Paige asked.

“Brooke and Riley.” Eliza pointed out the happy couple, toasting with friends across the sand. “You know Brooke, she runs the hotel in town.” The group saw Eliza and waved her over. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to everyone again.”

“You go ahead,” Paige said quickly. “I’m going to get that drink—and think about my boring life.”

Eliza laughed. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Nearly getting run down by an exterminator is plenty interesting!”

Paige drifted over to the makeshift bar and poured herself some mystery punch. She knew she should be mingling, but she still wasn’t feeling like herself, so she hopped up on the flatbed of a truck and swung her legs, watching the party from her solitary vantage point.

It wasn’t just today that had thrown her off balance; things had felt out of kilter for the whole year. First, their father had passed away. Even after a long sickness, it had still turned her inside out with grief. Which was probably why her boyfriend, Doug, hadn’t even believed her when she’d told him it was time for them to break up. “You shouldn’t make big decisions for at least a year after a bereavement,” he’d told her, so mild and even-handed, that she’d been tempted to throw the TV remote at his head.

She hadn’t, of course, but she did move out—taking them both by surprise. She’d thought it would be a relief; there was something about the relationship that had never really clicked for her, but instead, she kept wondering if he was right all along and she’d made a massive mistake. Her mother didn’t help, she’d practically had a breakdown, wailing over how Paige was going to die alone. “You’re nearly thirty,” Linda had cried, “your eggs are already past their prime!” And Paige’s friends had been curiously muted, too. “He was so nice,” her co-worker, Mindy had said, looking shocked. “Do you know how hard it is to even find nice these days? They’re all sending dick-pics on Tinder, and divorced with child-support bills, or living in their mom’s basement. Nice is more than enough!”

But it wasn’t. Not for Paige. Or maybe the problem was that she wasn’t enough for Doug. After all, he was the one who’d kept suggesting she change her hair and try wearing more feminine dresses, and gave her cooking lessons for her birthday because every time she tried his mother’s chicken recipe, she ended up with a blackened, charred mess. Maybe she should give Mindy his number. She loved roast chicken.

Paige sipped her drink and watched her sister swaying in the firelight with her new boyfriend, Cal. Eliza had just moved down to the Cape full-time to be with him and was clearly head over heels. Although Paige was happy for her, she couldn’t help but feel a pang, watching her sister flushed with happiness. That was what she wanted for herself—that rush of exhilaration, feeling like anything could happen—

“Hey there.”

A voice broke through her thoughts, and Paige looked up to find that a tall, handsome guy had materialized beside her.

No, forget handsome, this guy was officially hot. Rumpled, sun-kissed hair, blue eyes, and a charming grin he flashed at her as he leaned casually against the truck. “How do you know the happy couple?” he asked with a lazy Australian drawl.

“I don’t, not really,” Paige replied, feeling self-conscious. Was there a stray Hemsworth brother wandering around town she hadn’t heard about? “I’m gatecrashing.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t. I’m Declan,” he said, and the name clicked from the stories Eliza had been telling.

“Oh, you’re the playboy chef!”

Paige regretted blurting it out as soon as the words had left her lips, but Declan didn’t seem to mind. He laughed and held out his hand. “I see my reputation precedes me. Pleased to meet you.”

“Paige Bennett,” she replied, shaking it, and now it was his turn to nod.

“Ah, the sister.”

“That’s me,” Paige said, relaxing. According to her sister, Declan was an incorrigible flirt, leaving broken hearts up and down the Cape—but his tiramisu more than made up for it. She assessed him curiously, taking in the broad line of his shoulders and the way his worn cotton T-shirt hugged his taut torso.

That must be some tiramisu.

“So . . .” She took a sip of her drink, feeling bold. “Are you as bad as they say you are?”

“Sweetheart, I’m even better.” Declan winked and Paige couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sorry,” she spluttered, trying to be polite. “Ignore me. I’m sure that line works great for you.”

“Most of the time,” Declan said, looking thrown. “In fact, always. Girls love the accent. Maybe I should have done the hair thing.” He ran one hand through his too-long locks and gave her a smoldering look. “How about this time?”

“Better.” Paige grinned, enjoying this now. “If I were ten years younger and twice as dumb, I’d be all over it.”

“Ouch.” Declan clutched his chest. “And there I was, thinking you were the nice Bennett sister.”

Immediately, Paige winced. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve had the weirdest day.”

“What happened?” Declan asked, but even as he said it, his eyes were drifting across the party—straight to a cute brunette girl, dancing by the fire.

“I nearly died,” Paige said. OK, so maybe she was being dramatic, but it caught his attention.

Declan’s head snapped back around. “Damn, really?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Paige shook her head and explained to him about her brush with death. “I thought to myself, this is it. The part where your life flashes in front of your eyes, and everything gets clear. And you know what?”

“What?” Declan asked.

“Nothing happened!” Paige exclaimed. “I couldn’t picture one interesting thing I’ve ever done. All I could think about was the load of wet laundry sitting in the machine that nobody would come claim. Then my shoe got loose, and I was able to jump out of the way. Doesn’t that say it all?” she sighed. “Even my near-death experience was as boring as they come.”

“Hey, you’re not dead yet,” Declan pointed out. “There’s plenty of time to add to that highlight reel.”

“True.” Paige glanced over, curious. “So, tell me, what would be on yours?”

“Hmm, good question.” Declan paused a moment. “There’s that weekend in Cabo with the swimsuit model . . . Jumping out of a plane over Belize . . . The South of France was a blast, got to love those nude beaches,” he said, smiling at the memory. “Oh, and then there’s the time me and Cal got lost hitchhiking in the desert outside Morocco and wound up at a sheik’s palace with— Wait, I probably shouldn’t tell you that one.” He flashed Paige a grin.

“Wow.” She blinked at his wild adventures. “You really get around.” Then she flushed. “I didn’t mean . . . You know.”

“Yes, and yes.” Declan gave her a mock-salute. “Hell, life’s short, why not enjoy it?”

“But don’t you worry about the future?” Paige asked. She couldn’t help herself, not with everyone’s warnings still echoing in her ears. “Retirement accounts and health insurance and finding someone to settle down with. What if you wake up one day and find it’s too late, and you’re the only one left without a chair when the music stops?”

“Then I’ll find a friendly lap to go sit in.” Declan grinned. “I’ll figure it out, I always do. And hell, at least I’ll have some damn good memories.”

Paige wished it were so simple. She’d never been the impulsive one in the family—that was her sister’s role, while Paige was left smoothing things over and making sure everyone was alright. While her father was in the hospital, she’d been the one bringing food and clean clothing, and making sure her mom took breaks to sleep, and that the nurses knew the right music to play to keep him relaxed. Then, after, she’d been the one to organize the funeral and stand by the door greeting all his old colleagues, while her mom cried quietly in the back, and Eliza . . . well, Eliza had gotten drunk and bailed on the whole thing. Paige didn’t blame her, she would have done the same thing if she could have, but someone had to keep it all together, and that person was always her.

Just once, she wondered what it would be like to do something reckless and selfish for a change.

Paige shook her head. Her long day was catching up with her. She stifled a yawn.

“Past your bedtime?” Declan teased.

“Getting there.” She started to get down from the flatbed, but Declan reached out to help her down.

“Let me.”

His hand was warm, and she stumbled against him as she hit the sand. For a moment, she was pressed up against him, his body solid against hers.

Paige was struck with a physical awareness she hadn’t felt in years. Her breath caught from the closeness, and she caught a drift of his scent. Seawater, salty and masculine, and was that . . . cinnamon?

She glanced up, flushing. Declan was still looking at her with that rascal grin, the same smile he’d probably flashed every single woman on the Cape—and some of the married ones, besides. But who could blame him? There was a world of temptation in those teasing blue eyes, and if she was twenty-two and had a lifetime to make wild romantic mistakes . . .

Well, he would be one worth making.

Paige was about to take her hand back, when something stopped her. When had she started believing that she was over the hill? That selfish and reckless were already out of reach? Despite the best efforts of Crawley and/or his sons, she wasn’t dead yet.

And she wanted more than fresh laundry on her highlight reel.

“What?” Declan asked, looking puzzled. Probably because she was still standing there, holding onto him like an idiot.

So, Paige did the most reckless thing she could think of.

She kissed him.

Up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips softly to his. For a moment, Declan seemed frozen, and Paige almost backed down, but then his arms came around her, pulling her closer, and she was pressed flush against him, feeling the heat from his body and his taut, muscular torso, bringing every nerve in her body screaming to life.

Oh God, she was really doing this.

You may as well do it right.

Drunk on the feel of him and the giddy surprise racing in her veins, Paige boldly teased his lips open and stroked her tongue into his mouth.

It was intoxicating. The taste of him, like bourbon, slipping sweet into her bloodstream. Declan growled against her, tangling one hand in her silky hair as the other roamed over her body. Paige shivered under his touch, already lost to the sensation. He bit down softly on her lower lip, and Paige moaned into his mouth, shocked by the surge of desire that flooded her body, circling tighter and craving more. She wanted him, all of him, hard against her, groaning in her arms—

In front of everybody?

Her voice of reason saved her, just in time. Another ten seconds of that man’s mouth, and she would have been rolling around on the sand, to hell with the consequences—or police reports for lewd conduct.

Paige dropped her hands—that had somehow wound their way around his neck—and stepped away. But even without his heat pressed close, her blood still surged hotly with the sheer electricity of the moment.

She felt alive.

“There,” she said breathlessly. “At least I’ve done one interesting thing.”

Paige smoothed down her blouse, fighting to hide her fluster. But she couldn’t help breaking into a massive smile, proud of her one reckless move. “Thanks,” she added, while Declan stood there looking stunned. “Enjoy the rest of your night!”

And then she walked away.

---

What the hell just happened?

Declan shook his head, still dazed, and watched Paige’s silhouette disappear into the shadows. It just showed you: you never could tell. He’d had her pegged as the good girl, with that neat blonde braid and buttoned-up blouse, which meant she was strictly off limits. Sure, he’d earned that playboy reputation, but Declan loved women—which meant he didn’t love breaking their hearts. No strings, no stress, no regrets. As long as everyone knew the rules, nobody got hurt.

And everyone had a real good time.

Which is why he’d mentally ruled Paige out the minute she’d introduced herself. Messing with Eliza’s sister? That was just asking for trouble. Besides, Paige seemed immune to his charms: laughing in his face over his pick-up lines, like he was the last man on earth she’d let down her hair for.

Until she’d proven him wrong.

Damn, that kiss . . .

Declan’s blood was still surging from the feel of her, that tantalizing sweetness, and the hot curves of her incredible body. He hadn’t seen that kiss coming, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to let it pass him by. And when she’d moaned against him, breathless and soft . . . It was just a shame he didn’t get the chance to show her what a real moan was, flat out in the bed of his truck under the stars, with nothing but the ocean breeze between their skin.

At least, not tonight.

Declan’s pulse returned to its normal steady beat, and he smiled. Sweetbriar Cove was a small town. With her sister coupled up with his buddy, Cal, this definitely wasn’t the last he’d be seeing of Paige Bennett. Hell, the way things were going with the happy couple, he was looking at holidays and family dinners for the next fifty years.

Plenty of time to see just what she was playing at . . . And if she wanted to play it all over again.

He strolled over to grab another beer and found Cal himself loading up a couple of plates. “So, you’re settling in town for good then?” Declan asked, greeting him with a slap on the back. “Admit it, you couldn’t bear to be away from me any longer.”

Cal chuckled. “I need to keep an eye on my investment. Make sure you’re not running our restaurant into the ground.”

“You mean ‘my’ restaurant,” Declan corrected him good-naturedly. “Just remember the silent part of ‘silent partner.’ ”

Cal grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m happy to sit back and count the profits while you do all the hard work.”

“Huh, maybe I need to check our deal terms,” Declan joked. Taking Cal’s investment had been a smart move that was paying off for both of them. He insisted on complete freedom in the kitchen, and Cal was happy to give it to him. Now, Sage was one of the hottest reservations on the Cape, with a waiting list halfway to Labor Day.

Declan cast his eye around the party, looking for Paige. “What’s the deal with Eliza’s sister, the blonde one?” he asked casually, but Cal knew him too well.

“No. Nope. Absolutely not.”

“What?” Declan protested. “I didn’t say anything.”

“But I know you.” Cal gave him a look. “Anyway, she’s not your type.”

“I have many types.”

“Yeah, but what about those rules you’re always talking about?”

That’s right. Declan liked to say he lived by a code, and as much as he joked about it, the rules had steered him right so far.

One, everything tasted better with butter.

Two, life was too short for cheap whiskey.

And three, good girls were off limits.

Declan sighed. Dammit, Cal was right. “Fine, I won’t sweep her off her feet,” he said, and Cal laughed.

“You mean land her flat on her back,” he replied. “And you can forget that, too. She’s practically family now. I’d have to knock you out to protect her honor, or something like that.”

Declan grinned. “I’d like to see you try. Remember Rio?”

Cal winced, probably remembering the mean right hook that had left him with one hell of a black eye. Their friendly disagreement had gotten out of hand—thanks to a few too many tequilas and a gorgeous girl whose name Declan had already forgotten. But still, his buddy must have really been smitten, because he stood firm. “I mean it, Declan. Paige is a sweet girl, she’s not looking for your kind of fun.”

Declan could have told him a thing or two about what Paige wanted, but he’d never been the type to kiss and tell, so he just shrugged. “Sure thing. But aren’t you jumping the gun? Eliza might be sick of you in a couple of months.”

Cal just smiled. “I think we’re good.” He shot Eliza a look that practically had hearts and rainbows shooting out of the sky.

Declan sighed. Another wingman bites the dust.

Eliza waved, and Cal waved back. “You go have fun with the future Mrs. Prescott.” Declan nudged him in her direction. “I’ll pour one out for your bachelor days.”

“See you tomorrow to go over the accounts,” Cal said, walking away, and Declan groaned.

“You know how to ruin a party!”

He stayed a while longer, catching up with friends. Declan didn’t want to admit it, but he was hoping Paige would make another appearance—and maybe pick up where she’d left off. But the fire burned lower, and people began heading out. His good girl was probably tucked safe in bed by now . . .

Alone.

He headed to the parking lot, and a girl bumped into him, giggling. “Whoops!” She was the cute brunette he’d seen earlier, in her early twenties, with a group of co-ed friends.

“Easy there.” Declan steadied her.

“Thanks.” She gave him a smile. “Hey, we’re heading to a party in town now. Want to come?”

It was the kind of invitation he usually wouldn’t think twice about accepting. But he could still taste Paige on his lips, and after a kiss like that, he wasn’t in the mood to take anyone else home.

“I’ve got an early start,” he said easily, “but you guys have fun.”

“Shame . . .” The girl gave him another smile. “Here, in case you change your mind.”

Before he could stop her, she grabbed his hand, pulled out a lip gloss, and scrawled a number on his arm. “Call me,” she said with a wink, before racing to catch up with her friends.

Declan looked down at the sticky red mess. Maybe he would call her tomorrow. Or maybe not.

After all, he had nothing tying him down.