Derek was leaving. He needed to drive out in the morning, to scout out the final town for his documentary.

That was the only reason he was stopping at Pepper’s place to take her to dinner.

He needed to say goodbye.

Idiot.

He bounded up the steps, raised his hand to knock, and—

The door swung open.

Pepper’s head was down as she rummaged through her purse. “Where are my flipping keys?” she muttered, stepping across the threshold and colliding with him.

His hands came up, and he caught her shoulders.

She screeched, flailed.

Derek dodged an elbow. Her hair flew across his face. “Hey,” he said. “It’s me.”

Pepper froze. “Derek?” She yanked her head back, strands of hair catching on his nose. “Ouch.” A grumble, one petite hand coming up to wrestle her locks into place.

He watched her struggle, unable to help. Not when she smelled like vanilla and jasmine and . . . he inhaled, his body tightening.

Pale pink lips. Freckles on her nose.

His arms dropped so quickly that he had to raise them again to steady her.

He actually wanted to kiss the girl.

Fah-la-la-la-la—

“Jesus,” he ground out, shoving down the pervasive Disney song while carefully putting some distance between the two of them.

“What are you doing here?” Pepper asked, one hand perched on her hip.

“I’m taking you to dinner,” he said.

Which was going to be a lesson in sexual frustration, apparently. His eyes flicked down to his dick and he mentally ordered it to obey.

When he glanced up again, Pepper was staring at the very misbehaving bulge behind his zipper.

He waited.

And waited.

At least until the tip of her tongue darted out and ran across the surface of her bottom lip.

He coughed, raised a brow when her eyes met his.

The flush on her cheeks, the deep green of her irises didn’t help his bulge-situation.

She visibly shook herself then reached into her purse again and pulled out a set of keys. After closing and locking the door, she faced him again.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve already got plans.”

“Al—” Derek blinked, started after her when she breezed past him.

“Another time,” she said. “I have a date.”

His inner caveman really did not like that.

Especially when he saw what she was wearing.

A short—too short—dress that matched her eyes. She needed to put on a jacket. Or a muumuu or—

He relaxed slightly as he watched her cross to the next porch, climb the stairs, and knock. That cottage, he’d learned from their earlier beach day, belonged to Pepper’s friend and daughter, Samantha and Rylie, respectively.

So it was a girl’s night.

That was better. Except . . . he thought of Pepper going to a bar, of strange men approaching her and—

He shouldn’t care.

He cared anyway.

Especially when Samantha opened the door and handed Pepper a pair of sky-high heels.

She’d break an ankle.

Pepper squealed and threw her arms around Samantha’s neck. The action lifted the hem of her dress and drew Derek’s gaze down.

For fuck’s sake.

The woman had a spectacular ass.

“Tell you all about it later!” Pepper called and flounced down the steps. She stopped abruptly at the bottom, as though surprised he was still there. “Oh.”

Oh?

Women were always happy to see him.

And oh?

Just oh?

“Rain check,” she told him and started to walk by.

Derek snagged her arm. He should have let her go, should have left her to the date.

It was the lipstick that pushed him over the edge.

Fire engine red.

Fucking kissable.

He reeled her in, silky skin beneath his palms, soft curves against his chest, jasmine and vanilla in his nose.

He leaned down.

“Don’t.” A whisper. A plea.

His mouth was a centimeter from hers, and those four letters painted his lips. Moist breath. Hot air. She might as well already be kissing him for how effectively that puff owned him.

“I shouldn’t,” he agreed.

“You shouldn’t.” Another breath, another chink in what was fast-becoming a non-existent resistance to Pepper.

“I want—”

“No.”

Those emerald eyes were brimming with heat, her skin was flushed, her body pressing against his.

But she’d said no.

And so he released her.

Pepper’s eyes slid closed, shuttering that warmth, and she released a shaky breath. “I can’t, Derek.”

His body was on fire, but he nodded.

Eyes opened, sadness in place of desire. The swap was a punch to the gut. “I could never be what you need.”

Gripping the shoes in one hand, Pepper turned and ran barefoot down the beach.

She was gone so fast that she couldn’t have heard him when he said, “I just need you to be you.”