I didn’t want to lead him on. I liked him. I really did. He’d become a good friend. I just didn’t think I liked him in that way. Which was too bad, because if he were my boyfriend we could spend the entire summer out in Montauk. Yet he didn’t give me that flutter—the type of flutter the guy who was perfectly wrong for me caused. Damn you, Ford.

“Would you mind if I took a rain check on a date until after the test? I want to focus on that for now.” Plus, I wasn’t sure.

He forced a smile. “Sure.”

I left feeling kind of down. I wanted to want to go out with Mark. But it felt like the right decision putting it off. Maybe after a few weeks of not seeing him in class and our study group, I’d start to miss him and realize I’d been wrong.

My phone had been in my purse all night, and when I pulled it out at home to put it on the charger, I saw I had a few missed texts. I felt that familiar flutter low in my belly seeing they were from Donovan—or rather, Ford.

Donovan: I had drinks with a woman tonight.

The flutter suddenly died. As screwed up as it was, I felt a pang of jealousy. Ridiculous, I know. A guy I couldn’t go out with, wouldn’t go out with, and had no claim to. Yet it didn’t make what I felt any less real.

Donovan: I ended it early. Would have rather have had cocktails with you, even from the parking lot.

God, why did he have to be so sweet? And so damn young. I probably shouldn’t have responded, but…

Valentina: If it makes you feel any better, a man asked me out tonight, and I sort of blew him off, too.

The little dots jumped around as he started to type back immediately.

Donovan: Is it wrong that just hearing a man asked you out makes me jealous?

I smiled sadly. I feel your pain, buddy. Before I could respond again, another text came in.

Donovan: Why didn’t you say yes?

Valentina: Mark and I are good friends. I just don’t see him like that.

The texting stopped for a few minutes, and I grew anxious waiting for his response.

Donovan: Have coffee with me.

Coffee. It sounded so innocent.

Valentina: I can’t.

Donovan: Why not? It’s just coffee. There’s nothing devious about two adults sharing a cup of coffee. I wasn’t asking to make it for you in my apartment the morning after while you’re wearing my T-shirt.

An image flashed through my head of me standing in front of a coffee pot wearing just Ford’s T-shirt and a satisfied, goofy smile. My hair was a wild mess from the night before, and he wore nothing but a pair of gray, low-hanging sweats. He walked up behind me and slinked his arms around my waist, pulling me flush as he brushed my hair to the side and kissed my neck.

“Morning,” he growled against my skin.

I reached up and touched the area he’d kissed. Blinking a few times, I realized I’d been daydreaming. Oh my. Vivid. Think maybe I should take a quick shower and put down the phone. I plugged my cell into the charger on my nightstand and forced myself to walk away.

The shower proved to be more difficult. Without any mental stimulation except the neutral color of the tumbled stone tile, my mind tended to wander. And tonight my hand wanted to join in while my brain put on a show. My effort to clear my mind of all things Ford did just the opposite, and I had to cut the shower short.

After my bedtime ritual of moisturizing and primping, I got into bed and turned off the light. I had every intention of ignoring my phone and going to sleep, I really did, but a half hour later it was eating at me, and I realized I’d never get any rest without knowing if there were more texts waiting for me from Ford.

So I unhappily pulled my phone from the charger on my nightstand. Sure enough, a few new texts had arrived while I was attempting to clear him from my mind.

Donovan: Did I lose you?

Donovan: If you’re going to ignore me, there’s no reason to hold back. Nothing to lose….

Ten minutes later…

Donovan: Okay, so I lied. I want to have coffee with you because I can’t stop picturing you wearing my T-shirt the morning after.

Donovan: You look really sexy in it, by the way.

Donovan: One cup of coffee.

Donovan: I’ll be on my best behavior.

Donovan: I swear.

That had been his last text, but the minute I finished catching up on them, a new one arrived.

Donovan: You’re reading my texts now. I can see they just changed to Read. So I know you’re not sleeping…

I smiled sadly and sighed.

Valentina: No, I’m not sleeping. Although, I should be. You know why? Because I’ll be up a five a.m. tomorrow morning, no matter what time I go to bed. I bet you can sleep until noon, like most young people.

Donovan: Actually, I’m at the gym by 5:30 and the office by 6:45 every morning. Nice try. How about coffee at 6 a.m., if you’re up anyway?

I chuckled to myself.

Valentina: You’re persistent. I’ll give you that. But I’m sorry, I just can’t, Ford.

I’d started to type: I just can’t—no matter how much I want to. But I erased it. I needed to put an end to this craziness, for both of our sakes.

Instead of responding, I went to my contacts and edited Donovan to Ford—a gentle reminder that Donovan wasn’t a man I could ever be attracted to; he was simply Ford, the boy next door.

Chapter 6

* * *

Valentina – Two weeks later

The air smelled better in Montauk. The salt seemed to open my lungs and wash away the stresses of life. It had long been dark by the time I arrived. After Memorial Day, Friday night East Hampton traffic became a war zone of designer-clad people. It was why I’d always preferred Montauk. For most men there, a fancy dinner outfit meant changing out of your fishing boots.

Standing on the back deck at almost midnight, I shut my eyes and listened to the waves crashing as I inhaled deeply. After a few more exhales, my shoulders began to relax.

Until a voice startled me.

“Mrs. Davis?”

I jumped and let out a very girly sounding scream.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s Bella—Annabella Donovan from next door.”

“Oh.” My hand held my chest. “Hi, Bella. I didn’t see you there.”

Our beachy neighborhood didn’t have fences, just a sand pathway between the elevated houses. Bella stood on the beach at the bottom of the stairs leading up to my deck.

“I didn’t know anyone else was out here,” she said. “I wasn’t even sure if you owned the house anymore. I haven’t been out here in years. But I’m glad you guys are still around. It’s so quiet at night out here.”

“Actually, it’s just me now. Ryan and I divorced, and my son Ryan is staying at college for the summer to do an internship.” I held my breath for a moment before asking the next question. “Are you…out here alone?”

“Yep. I drove my brother crazy enough that he let me come out for a long weekend. I wanted to stay the entire summer, but God forbid he trust me out here alone.”

A confusing mix of relief and disappointment hit me. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about Ford often over the last couple of weeks—he’d made sure of it with a text or two each day. But I hadn’t answered since the night I’d come home from study group.

“So it’s just us girls then,” Bella said.

“I guess so.” I smiled.

“Until my pain-in-the-ass brother shows up.”

My skin prickled, and it wasn’t because of any chill in the air. “Are you…expecting him?”

“He’s not supposed to come out, but he doesn’t trust me. He’s away on a business trip right now, although I get the feeling he might show up when he gets back. He called me five times today and had an alarm system installed at the house.”

“Well, I suppose that’s what big brothers are supposed to do, watch out for their sisters.”

She shrugged. “Hey. Would you want to do a sunrise yoga class on the beach with me? It’s only a few houses down. I’ve been getting up a half hour before and walking to warm up. I have a free pass for a friend if you want to try it tomorrow.”

I felt rather out of sorts from the surprise of Bella being next door, not to mention the prospect of her brother coming out to check on her. So I failed to think of a quick excuse why I couldn’t do sunrise yoga.

“Umm... Sure. I’d love that.”

“Awesome. I’ll meet you back here at six?”

“That sounds good.”

“Okay, then, I’m going to go shower. I have sand in places there shouldn’t be sand. ’Night, Mrs. Davis.”

She smiled and had begun to walk toward her house when I called after her. “Bella?”

She turned back.

“Call me Valentina or Val, please.”

“Okay, Val. See you in the morning.”

***

I walked out onto the deck with my morning coffee and found Bella stretching on the sand behind our houses.

“Am I late?” I called down, checking the time on my phone.

“Nope. I’m early.” She bent to the right and stretched her left arm over her head. “I woke up an hour ago hearing what I thought was the sound of rain hitting my window. But when I came out, it wasn’t raining.”

“Do you want some coffee?”

“I’d actually love some. I ran out and had to make decaf this morning, which is like taking a shower with a raincoat on. What’s the point?”

“I couldn’t agree more.” I nodded my head in the direction of the house. “Come on, let’s get you properly caffeinated.”