Noah

Luke remained silent while he buckled his seatbelt, and I cranked the truck. The moment the engine revved, he swiveled in the passenger seat and looked at me with the same intensity he used during interrogations. Only I wasn't a criminal, and I was used to his bullshit. Rolling down the driver side window, I rested my arm on the edge and pulled onto Main Street without acknowledging him.

During this time of year, traffic was light. Summer in Birch Cove didn't draw the same amount of tourism as autumn and winter, when thousands flocked to our small part of the country to take pictures of leaves and willingly throw themselves down the mountainside. I loved my hometown, but I could go without ever dealing with another entitled tourist.

"Wow." Luke twisted the volume knob on the radio, silencing the overly pop beat of the latest hit country song. "You're not going to tell me why you stormed off in a huff like that?"

"There was no storming or huffing."

"No, not at all." He waved at some locals crossing the intersection in front of us, earning enthusiastic greetings in return. I rolled my eyes. Being friendly was one thing, but these people treated Luke like a celebrity because of his badge. Funny how half of them forgot how much trouble he caused in the days before he put it on.

"Sarcasm," I pointed out, cutting my eyes at him and taking a right on Golden Leaf Drive. The station was two blocks ahead, but I didn't dare hope the short drive would deter him from meddling.

He plopped his palm across his chest and wiped invisible tears from his eyes. "Look at you. Finally catching on to social nuances."

"Fuck you."

"No, but you know who I would fuck?" My neck muscles bunched, and my molars ground together. "That pretty little redhead back in the diner. The one you so conveniently forgot to mention you've seen naked."

"And when was I supposed to drop that information? We're not teenagers. Seeing a naked woman isn't a headline event that we share in the locker rooms."

Luke chuckled. "Not usually, no. But seeing that woman naked... It was hard enough being professional when she answered the door in those silky little shorts and tank, but damn. And you had every opportunity to mention it when you were explaining why you were in her yard and staring in her window."

"You know this is why women don't like you?" I snapped, hitting the brakes and shifting into park so abruptly, it threw Luke forward in his seat. "They know how you talk about them. I didn't tell you what I saw because I knew I scared the shit out of her, and I was more concerned with making sure she was okay than I was with explaining the color of her nipples."

Dusty rose. The same perfect shade as her lips. And the freckles sprinkled on her face and shoulders didn't end there. They fanned out across her chest and over breasts that were the perfect handful. They probably went even lower, but my traitorous eyes stayed glued to her swaying breasts the entire time, even while I screamed at myself to turn away.

"Women like me well enough," Luke responded, unbuckling and opening his door. He paused before jumping down. "They just like you better, but I do thank you for ruining your chances with the new girl. Between the peeping tom incident and your unpleasant attitude in the diner, there's no way you stand a chance with her."

"Get to work," I said, pushing him out of the truck. "Even the golden boy has to show up on time now and then."

I watched him go into the building before backing out and heading home. When I passed the diner, I couldn't stop myself from sneaking a look and was surprised to find Poppy was still there. She sat in the same booth, a fresh refill in front of her, while Lydia chatted animatedly across from her. A frown stole across my face. If Lydia took a liking to her, that meant she was in with just about everyone in town, and it wouldn't be long before the invites started rolling in for Ms. Harper. It wasn't that I didn't want the woman to make friends, but being her neighbor was bad enough. Now I was going to run into her everywhere.

Poppy's house came into view, and I slowed to a near stop. The cottage-style house looked the same as it did the day I put it on the market over a year ago—desperately in need of some TLC. I half suspected some city yuppy to snap it up at the low price and turn it into an Airbnb. Thinking about it had turned my stomach, but keeping it would be worse. No matter how chipped the paint or how much the porch sagged, I could only see what it was supposed to become, and when Nora died, so did that version of the future.

My property manager didn't tell me who bought the house. Only that it sold. I didn't even know when the new occupants were moving in because I sure as hell wouldn't have traipsed into the yard without announcing myself if I'd known anyone lived there.

Pale skin and curves haunted my dreams last night, leaving me cranky and hard the next morning. The first wasn't an unusual state to find myself in these days, but the second was a rare occurrence since my life imploded the year before. The same women who used to fill my bed and scratch that itch were no longer the least bit tempting, and my hand provided relief from the occasional hard on.

Or it had until this morning. Arm braced against the shower wall, I closed my eyes while I stroked myself, giving into the sensation the way I always did, but it wasn't until I let my mind recreate the scene I'd stumbled upon last night that I finally came. Afterward, I berated myself for being so foolish. Like I told Luke, I wasn't some teenager who'd never seen breasts before. A glimpse of a woman's naked body shouldn't have been enough to put me in that state, and while I hated people prescribing sex to fix problems, I figured that maybe—just this once—I might need to get laid.

When an unknown number called me this morning, I was scrolling through my contacts, searching for the least complicated partner to take care of the problem. I let it go to voice mail and sent a text to Jenny Little. Her response was immediate, telling me to meet her at Angie's Joint tonight at nine. Relieved, I clicked over to the voice mail and groaned when I heard Poppy's satin southern accent through the speaker.

All my hopes of rescuing Cordelia and disappearing without seeing Poppy were dashed the moment I pulled into her drive. With her back to me, I had the perfect view of her round ass in sinful cut-off shorts, proving my imagination hadn't blown anything out of proportion, and when she spun around, her crop top revealed that the freckles did in fact go lower than her breasts.

I planned on being chivalrous and apologizing for scaring her the night before. No woman should have to experience that kind of fear, but seeing her in those shorts and remembering the night before short circuited my brain. It didn't help matters when I found her in my favorite booth, or when my budding interest in her flamed out completely after learning she was the type of woman to flit from place to place, never settling or growing roots. She might as well be a tourist, and I steered clear of those.

Yet here I was. Parked in front of her house and fighting against the gnawing concern that filled me the longer I stared at the areas needing repair. How could she manage a place like this without help? What if she hurt herself living here or in the process of fixing something?

A horn blast jolted me out of my musings, and I glanced in the rearview mirror to find her flashy red sedan idling behind me. The sun's glare on the windshield made it impossible to see her face, but two more quick bursts on her horn expressed her feelings as well as any facial expression could. The truck rolled forward a few feet as I lifted my foot off the brake, allowing her to pull into her driveway.

"Can I help you?" she demanded as she came around the truck, her hands balled into fists on her hips. "Did you lose another chicken?"

"No, but you look like you're about to lose that porch step," I replied, hooking my thumb toward the house.

Her mossy green eyes flickered to the house and back to my face. Her full, round lips flattened. "It's on the list to fix once I get unpacked."

"You're hauling boxes up and down those steps?"

The truck door opened with a squeal. Poppy jumped back, putting herself smack in the middle of the road and right in the way of a speeding vehicle. I grabbed her with one arm and spun, pinning her between the truck and my body seconds before the car would have struck her. The asshole didn't even slow down, and it took me several long seconds and deep breaths before I could ease away from the woman sheltering in my arms.

"You—" I worked spit back into my mouth.

"Careful how you plan on finishing that sentence," she said, jumping in to take advantage of the silence. Red splotches bloomed under her freckles.

I wrestled my temper into submission. It wasn't a simple task, despite years of fighting against it. "No one goes the speed limit on this road, and that's a blind curve. You could've been killed."

"You know, I don't normally make a habit of hanging out in the middle of the road, but when Neanderthals startle me and almost hit me with their car doors, I tend to jump back."

"You're the one who walked up to my car. You should have come to the passenger side!"

Her eyebrows shot to her hairline right before her eyes narrowed. Finger raised, she appeared to contemplate jabbing me in the chest before dropping her arm back to her side. Then she drew in a lungful of air and released it slowly. Guess I wasn't the only one with a temper.

"I'm going inside now. I have wasted half this day, and I intend to at least know where my clothes are by tomorrow morning. So, unless you have another animal loose on my property, please just go."

"Fine by me. At lease you know the number of law enforcement when you have an emergency," I snapped, getting back into my vehicle and slamming the door so hard the truck rocked, but I didn't pull away until she made it safely up the stairs to her front door.

Knuckles white on the wheel, I sent up a prayer. A woman like that couldn't make it more than a few months out here, but I had a feeling my life was going to be hell until she bailed for the next town. I could make it that long, and the best way to survive was to distract myself. I glanced at the clock. The perfect distraction would be waiting for me at nine o'clock tonight.