I could have told myself that I wasn't waiting to see her, but that would have been a big fucking lie.

I loved that she rode a bicycle, a dark pink bicycle that looked as if it had seen better days.

"Good morning, Starshine," I called from my perch in the fountain.

A smile broke out on her face as she climbed off the bike. She rolled it over to the fountain and pushed down the kickstand. Boone trotted out from under his shade spot, stopped at her feet and instantly rolled to his back in a shameless attempt for a belly rub.

Ella crouched down and obliged him.

"He trained himself to do that, to roll over at the sight of a pretty girl. Everything I ever learned about flirting, I learned from that dog."

Ella peered up at me. Those blue eyes, damn they were incredible. "That would explain your lack of subtlety."

She was never thrown off by anything I said, another cool thing.

I braced my hand on the edge of the fountain and threw my legs over. My feet landed in a solid thud on the hard packed dirt. I had already cleared away all the debris and weeds that circled the fountain.

Ella patted Boone's stomach one last time and straightened. It was impossible not to let my gaze travel the length of her, with her tempting curves and long, suntanned legs. She didn't seem to mind. She was a small town girl, but there wasn't all that much small town about her.

She smiled down at Boone, who was still on his back just in case the belly rub took a second round. "He's a smart dog."

"He's brilliant when it comes to getting what he wants, like treats and a tummy rub, but he doesn't fetch, or sit or shake hands. He does however have farting down to an art. And I don't want to sound like one of those braggy, delusional parents, you know the kind who think that because their kid can pluck out Chopsticks on the piano, they are ready for the symphony, but I'm pretty sure Boone can fart on cue. I've seen him clear a couch in seconds just to get the cushion he wants."

Ella wiped a laughter tear away from her eye and caught her breath. "You two seem like the most unlikely, and yet, the most likely pair. Thank goodness you found each other."

"Yeah, I don't know what I'd do without him. Boone is my wingman."

Ella's smile faded. "What did you call him?"

"My wingman. You know the guy who helps me get where I need to go." I had no clue what I'd said but something had stirred up some emotion. "Everything all right, Ella?"

She shook her head as if to clear it. "Yes, sorry, just hadn't heard that word in a while." She took a deep breath and stared up at the fountain. I was nearly done cleaning it out. "It looks so different without the weeds." She turned back to me. "I was sure you'd be gone by this morning."

"Were you? Are you disappointed to see me then?"

"No, not at all. It's just—do you really think you can get it working again?"

"We'll find out soon enough. I've got to take it apart and clean out the center tube so the water can flow freely."

She looked pointedly at my new work gloves. "You certainly seem determined."

"I don't give up easily." I climbed back into the fountain.

"Wait," she said. "I want to read what it says on the back of your calf." She walked up and softly touched the back of my leg. I felt the light heat from her fingers through my entire body. "Don't get mired in all the bullshit." She grinned up at me. "It's original."

"It's just something my dad used to say. Hey, Twinks, I was thinking maybe we could hang out after you get off work. If you have time, I could use a travel guide."

"A travel guide for Butterfield? Guess I didn't give that career path enough consideration." When her pink lips tilted in thought, suddenly all I could think about was kissing her. "I'm off at four if you're still around." She walked over to her bike.

"Oh, I'll be around."

Boone let out a low growl. His black eyes were focused on a guy walking our direction. He was wearing shiny brown loafers, neatly pressed cargo shorts and one of those obnoxious grins that always made me want to ball a fist. Boone growled again.

"Something tells me that guy is an asshole."

Ella looked at me. "How did you know that?"

"Ah ha, so I'm right. Although I can't take all the credit. See the way Boone's upper lip is quivering. That means he's turned on his asshole detection system, and he’s going into stealth mode."

"And you only give him credit for farting on cue." Ella winked. "I've got to head into the market. Have a nice day."

The guy let out an earsplitting whistle. "Hey, hot stuff," he called as he saw Ella take off across the street.

She waved back, barely, before parking her bike and going inside the store.

The big grin he was sporting as he watched Ella cross the street disappeared by the time he reached the fountain. He stood with his arms crossed, looking about as important as an asshole wearing polished loafers could look.

"What the fuck are you doing?" His question was followed by Boone's growl.

"Boone, go lay down." Boone walked with droopy head and tail back to his shady spot. I rarely talked sharply to Boone, but this guy looked like the type of guy who might kick a dog.

He was still staring up at me through his mirrored sunglasses.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm cleaning out the fountain."

"Why?"

I blew out a hot breath to keep my cool. "Not to get all George Mallory on you, but because it's there. That's why."

"Who the fuck is George? My name is Brent."

"George Mallory? The guy who climbed Everest because 'it was there'? Never mind. Just thought I'd get the thing working again." I refocused on the weeds, hoping he'd get bored of watching me and leave. No such luck.

"Don't know why you'd bother. This whole park looks like shit. Be easier if the earth just opened up and swallowed the whole fucking place. Everything went to hell after the accident. I couldn't wait to blow this town once I graduated." He looked back toward the market. "What were you doing talking to Ella?"

"Just having a conversation."

His laugh was grating. "They call her Lucky Thirteen, but back in high school we guys were the lucky ones, if you catch my meaning. Ella Ives was every guy's fantasy, and she made those fantasies come true. She was the perfect date because you always knew you'd score with her."

I wrenched out a big wet clump of weeds and squeezed my hand around them as I tried to ignore the jerk and every shitty thing he said about Ella.

"The big bummer was that she was a year younger than the rest of us, so she was off limits near the end of high school when I turned eighteen."

"What accident?" I asked sharply to switch topics, even though I wasn't too sure I wanted to hear about the accident either.

He stared up at me and shook his head. "Nothing. That's town business."

I was done with this guy. "Speaking of business, seems to me the shit you said earlier is Ella's business." I dropped the slimy, wet clump of weeds right next to him, splattering his sparkling loafers.

"Fuck. Look what you did."

"Sorry about that. I've got to get back to work."

"Yeah, well I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to be cleaning that fountain. I think I'll talk to the mayor and see about getting you booted out of town. You seem like nothing but trouble."

"You do that."