Cabe arrived on my doorstep looking casual in a pair of khaki shorts and a form-fitting t-shirt. He tipped his sunglasses onto his head and caught me up in a sexy smile. I masked the unexpected heat that flooded my cheeks by blurting the first thing that came into my head.

"You hungry?"

"Starving. This is a cute place. And you can't beat the location." He crossed the living room to the picture window, which offered a partial view of the beach.

"It's humble, but it's home. It was built about the time my parents were born. The carpet was only recently upgraded to bring it into the twenty-first century."

"I'm picturing orange shag carpeting."

"Olive green."

"I imagine not many bartenders can afford a place like this."

"The perks of being part owner of a successful bar, I guess." I joined him at the window, and he slipped his arms around my waist.

"Hi, June. I missed you." He pulled me in for a kiss, and I indulged in the flutter when his tongue got involved. He tasted like coffee and was probably due for a caffeine crash.

"Let's get some food in you. There's a place walking distance from here—Easy Eddie's Diner. They serve breakfast all day."

"Waffles?"

"Excellent waffles."

Ten minutes later we were seated at a booth, and Cabe had already sucked down a large soda. "So, tell me what your plans are for this amazing master's degree."

I appreciated that he avoided asking about my fucked-up situation with the bar. "I'm considering a position at the University of South Carolina. I've got a video interview next Tuesday."

"That's great. Columbia is a helluva lot closer to Atlanta than Daytona Beach."

He graced me with his signature smirk, and I couldn't say how I felt about it. Did I want to keep this thing going? Would managing a relationship interfere with my career? Why did I have to overanalyze everything?

"What else do you have on tap?" he asked.

We continued our conversation, avoiding bar topics and sticking to the fluffy stuff, as Dad called it. Cabe had an easy way about him, which was a refreshing change. After lunch, we ended up walking on the beach until a summer rain shower forced us back to my place.

"This really is a sweet spot you've got here," he said as we dried off in my bathroom. "I've always seen the horizon like a metaphor for the future. It's open and endless."

"That's very deep, Cabe. Who do you credit your outlook on life to?"

"My dad. He can be a self-serving ass, but I've learned more life lessons from him than anyone else."

When we were both dry, we took to staring at each other. The sexual tension had been obvious since he arrived. After all the flirting on the phone leading up to my graduation, I was eager to find out what else he had to offer besides a talented tongue.

"So, how long can you stay?" I asked.

"I don't have any pressing engagements. I'm all yours." He smiled, and I felt a zing of adrenaline.

"Did you book a hotel?"

"No. But I figure I can find something—"

"Don't bother. I want you to stay here."

"Oh. That's a very nice offer, but I don't want you to feel obligated just because I was acting spontaneous."

I used his belt loops to pull him close. "I don't feel obligated. And you don't have to feel obligated to share my bed. I can set you up on the couch if you're more comfortable there."

"That all depends on you."

"Is that so?" I pressed my mouth to his and ran my tongue over his lips. "Would you like to test out the mattress to see if it's to your liking?"

A soft moan escaped him. "I'm not too picky. But just in case, I better give it try."

My stomach did a little flip as I hauled him into my bedroom. Was he going to let this play out? Or would he keep his delayed gratification game going?

We sat together on the edge of the bed, and he made a show of bouncing up and down. "Feels like a pillow top. On the medium to firm side."

"Firm. It's better on the back."

"Did your track coach tell you that?"

"As a matter of fact, she did. You're very perceptive."

He shrugged. "It's a gift I inherited from my dad."

"You credit a lot of your traits to your dad, but I expect you've cultivated plenty of that naturally. I know frauds, and you don't appear to be one of them. Although, when we first met, I thought you were a cop. And I've never met a cop who wasn't a fraud."

He gave me a crooked look as we laid on our backs and stared up at my ancient ceiling fan. "I'm not sure I agree."

"It's true. I got the information directly from Murphy. He used to be a cop in the military."

Cabe chuckled. "The difference between a city cop and a military cop is like night and day."

"And you know this, how?"

"My Great Uncle James. He was an MP in the Army. He spent a year in London during the German invasion. The guy had a story for everything."

"Had?"

"He's gone, but my dad still tells the stories. He's throwing himself a sixtieth birthday party the weekend after next. Would you like to come? We're holding it at our cabin in the Georgia mountains." He tweaked my chin. "We could give you a proper initiation."

"Initiation?"

"You said you've never been to the mountains. I'd love to take you on my favorite trail. The view at the top is out-of-this-world."

He practically radiated with anticipation as he suggested I join him on this mountain top, and I couldn't be disappointed that he wasn't talking about sex. "I would love to celebrate your dad's birthday in the Georgia mountains."

Just as I'd hoped, he rolled over and captured my lips in a fiery kiss. To hell with the mountain top, I was ready to be initiated on my pillow top. So the knock that interrupted us felt like a punch to the crotch. I knew that knock.

"Are you going to answer that?"

"No."

"Junie!" Mom's voice echoed outside the door, and all hopes of taking Cabe to pound town on my pillow top evaporated.

"Sounds urgent." Cabe rolled off the bed, and I let him pull me to my feet.

"It's never urgent as far as I'm concerned. My guess is she's asking if I've read the contract."

"Well, let's bring her up to speed."

With Cabe's confidence to guide me, I faced my mother at the door. I couldn't say I was surprised to see her Go-Pro attached to her head.

"Junie! My big time graduate! How does it feel to have all that hard work behind you?" She might have been addressing me, but her eyes were pegged on Cabe as she repeated the script she'd used at my grad party.

"I expect the hard work is just beginning," I said, although my enthusiasm had evaporated back in the bedroom. I was not going to miss this crap when I left Florida. "Of course, it feels good to have a degree under my belt. I highly recommend it to anyone who doesn't aspire to be a bartender their whole life."

"Oh, but some people are naturals behind the bar. You have an amazing gift. I'm sure you could have made bartending a career. Everyone deserves a perfectly poured drink." She reminded her viewers what they already knew after exploiting my amazing gift for the past three years.

"And everyone deserves to live their best life, which is what I'm doing." I offered a sarcastic smile, which meant I was done, and she pressed the stop button on her camera.

"Aw, Junie. That was nice." Her compliment threw me for a second, then I remembered Cabe was standing there. "Who is this handsome fella?"

"Mom, this is Cabe Franklin."

"The man behind that thoughtful bouquet of flowers? I'm Eve Cashmere. It's great to meet you. I expect you're here to help Junie celebrate her big accomplishment."

"I am. I hope I didn't interfere with your family documentary."

She used her on-camera laugh. "Junie must not have told you about my YouTube channel. Over sixty thousand followers tune in to the Beach Bar Behatch for their daily dose of drama from the front lines of a Florida tourist town. So you're not interfering at all. Most of my followers are very interested in keeping up with Junie's love life. Fun, huh?"

Cabe and I locked gazes, and I hoped the message behind my subtle eye roll came across.

"The Beach Bar Behatch? That's catchy. My sister-in-law documents her experience owning a bagel shop with my sister. She calls it the Bagel Bitches Diaries." Cabe acted as if he was totally on board with my mom's blatant invasion of privacy. I had to give him credit. He was a better sport than me.

"That's pretty catchy too." It was all I could think of on the spot, as our worlds suddenly grew closer. Mom joined us in the foyer, and I was obliged to close the door and let her take over the spotlight.

"I'd love to get your permission to share that little promo online, Cabe."

"Of course. I've got nothing to hide."

We gravitated to the living room and sat down. It was clear by the twinkle in Mom's eyes that there was more on her agenda.

"Is that your Corvette outside?"

"It's my dad's. It's more comfortable than my Harley for long drives. I thought June and I would take a little road trip while I was here."

"Oh, how nice. Where will you go?"

"That's up to June." Cabe turned to smile at me, and I wished we were already on the road. My mom stressed me out; while I was beginning to notice that Cabe had a calming effect on me.

"Well, Junie? Where would you like to go in Cabe's fancy car?" Mom's question had me blushing as I pictured Cabe naked in the driver's seat with me on his lap.

"I don't know. I hear Miami is nice this time of year." It was probably nerves that had me blurting my answer, and my comment had both of them squinting at me.

"But you hate Miami?" Mom was right. After all the times we'd endured insane traffic to get to my track meets, I didn't care if I never traveled south again.

"I think I'm to blame for that," Cabe said. "My dad owns a condo in South Beach, and he suggested I take June there for a little rest and relaxation."

I snorted. "Rest and relaxation? In Miami? You've been there, right?"

"South Beach is not the same as Miami proper."

"But you still have to get there."

"We've got a workaround. A close business associate of my dad's owns a yacht. His family travels between Miami and Jupiter all the time. If you're up for it, we'll cruise to South Beach in style. Have you ever been on a yacht?"

"I can't say that I have."

"Then I think we just figured out our plans for the rest of the week. Can you get away from the bar?"

With my mom blinking in shock, there was only one right answer. "I'll make it happen." 

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: Does anyone vlog anymore? I wasn't sure about using that term, but since June's mom is in her forties, it seemed appropriate.