It rings silently in my hand again as I’m swiping it open. “Hello?”

“I waffled on whether or not to tell you this,” Georgia says, “but basically every horny woman and gay man in the county is gathering at Sunrise Ridge, because…well, you know that sports magazine that does those naked athlete shoots, and how Sunrise Ridge overlooks—”

“Oh my god, tell me everyone isn’t gawking at Cooper. Ew. Ew. Gross. Why would they do that?”

“Tillie Jean. It’s not Cooper. It’s Max.”

My mouth goes dry, my knees buzz, and my nipples tingle, making the skin across my chest shiver as goose bumps erupt across my breasts. “What? No. He’s not back. I’d know if he was back.”

I march to the window and peer through the blinds.

No car at Max’s house.

Duh, Tillie Jean. Not if he’s at Sunrise Ridge.

But I would’ve heard his car. I would’ve heard him coming and going.

Unless he moved so he doesn’t have to live next to me for the rest of the post-season.

My stomach drops.

Georgia’s talking again. “—your Aunt Bea told my mom that the photographers are staying at the inn, and that she’d heard from Dita, who heard from Vinnie, who heard from Yiannis, who served a gyro to a very talkative stranger who’s apparently in the know, that they were doing a naked shoot with Max at the ball fields at the high school, and they had to do it today since it’s the only day there aren’t any extracurriculars going on, and—”

“Are you there?” I have my keys in hand and am headed to my car without thinking about taking off my paint clothes, and I don’t know if it’s because I want to see Max totally naked, throwing a ball around, or if it’s because I want to tell my friends and neighbors to stop gawking at a naked Max.

Definitely the second.

I mean, the first too, but no. Not like this.

“No,” she groans. “I’m at work today.”

“Would you be there if you weren’t at work?”

“I don’t know.” She heaves a sigh. “I mean, they’re not going to show his ba-dingle-do in the pictures, so it’s like, my only—”

“Georgia.”

“What? I’m not there, and it’s like forty degrees, so it probably wouldn’t even look all that impressive.” I can hear her grinning. “But you should go. Sloane and I counted the number of times you looked out the window at his house and sighed dramatically last week at movie martini night. She tried to take a drink every time but realized she’d be wasted before we got through the opening credits, and gave up. So either you want to see his ba-dingle-do, or you’re about to chew out the half of Shipwreck who are up on the ridge with binoculars. No, Grady, I’m not talking about your ba-dingle-do. Go back to being disgusting with your donut dough. Jesus. Your brothers. I swear.”

“I know. They’re such guys. Back to Max—”

“Customers. Have to go.”

She hangs up, and I dive into my car.

Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling up behind a line of cars at the hook in the road for the Sunrise Ridge viewing area. I should’ve worn my boots, but I didn’t, so I tromp along the dirty, snowy edges of the road to where a dozen women from Shipwreck are all leaning over the fence, most of them with binoculars. “What are you doing?”

“Tillie Jean.” Nana makes a come here gesture. “Come look. Are all the kids these days packing packages like this?”

“Nana. Give him privacy. He signed up to do a photo shoot, not to have half of Shipwreck gawking at him from—”

“Whoa, TJ, we have permission.” Aunt Glory steps back from the railing and lets her binoculars dangle from their strap around her neck. “We bought tickets.”

“You bought tickets.” Right. “From who?”

“Cooper and Max. Hundred bucks a pop, and all the money’s going to Robinson’s niece’s charity. Except Max’s ten percent cut. He and Cooper rock-paper-scissored it out until Max agreed to take a cut. Cooper insisted.”

My jaw flaps open.

“Wait a minute.” Ray turns from peering down in the valley too. “Tillie Jean, are you allowed to be up here? Where’s your ticket? Did you sign the waiver?”

“Tickets?” It’s all I can manage.

“I got you covered, TJ.” Nana flashes me a wide grin. “You know Cooper’ll take late payment for a ticket, but you have to promise me you’ll sign the waiver too. No pictures. If we take pictures, that magazine paying Max to strip down will get really mad at us and probably never sign Cooper up to do the same. Put your phone in your car and come have a looky-loo.”

“They did not sell tickets. Also, please don’t ever mention Cooper doing a naked photo shoot again.”

Aunt Bea reaches into her back pocket and waves something at me without looking away from the ballfield in the valley below. “They did sell tickets. You really think we’d be up here ogling a naked visitor to town without his permission otherwise? Also, if that’s what he looks like with shrinkage from the cold, can you imagine what he looks like when—”

“Aunt Bea.” I glare at her even though I very much want to know what his package looks like.

I’ve felt it.

I know it has to be glorious.

Even in forty-degree weather.

Possibly especially in forty-degree weather.

Oh, crap. Was he showing his package to someone else the past three weeks? Did he hook up with a beach bunny? Has some other woman had her hands on what half of my town currently has their eyes on?

It’s not like he’s mine. I have no right to be jealous.

But I am.

I’m jealous of the beach bunny in my head who got to hook up with Max Cole.

And now I’m also jealous that my family bought tickets to see him naked, and I didn’t even know he was back in town.

I whip out my phone and text Georgia. THEY SOLD TICKETS?

Her reply is nearly instantaneous. I started to try to tell you, but you were on such a roll, I figured it was best to let you figure it out on your own.

I pocket my phone and glower at my family. “You paid for a peep show!”

Total honesty here—I’m not mad that Max is comfortable enough in his own skin to fleece my family in the name of charity.

I’m mad that they got the option of buying a ticket and I didn’t even know he was back.

Ray shoots me a glance and goes wide-eyed next to his mom. “Uh-oh. Prude police.”

I can see figures on the ball diamond behind the Blue Lagoon County High School, and I can see skin on one of those figures, but I can’t see anything else clearly.

Not on the field.

The sheriffs’ cars with lights flashing blocking the entrance to the school and a few other streets?

Yeah.

I can see those clearly down in the valley.

But I can’t see any portion of Max’s anatomy, other than enough to be able to tell that there’s a man, possibly with a tan, down there on the pitcher’s mound, and one or two clearly dressed people with equipment around the field, which is still littered with snow over the brown grass in the outfield.

Does he have a tan?

Does he have tan lines?