Was he sun-bathing nude in paradise for the past three weeks?

Am I sweating?

Yep. Definitely sweating.

And don’t ask about the state of my panties.

I shake my head and point to one of the cars with flashing lights around the roads to the high school. “No, I don’t want a ticket. And you guys shouldn’t have bought any either.”

Aunt Bea squints at me. “Tillie Jean, the man was shoveling snow naked here not that long ago, and throwing snowballs with you at the same time to boot. You really think he’s not comfortable in his body?”

“But you’re—this feels so—”

“You’d deprive an old lady of a thrill?” Nana demands.

“You and Pop watch porn every Tuesday night. You get your thrills.”

“Not in person.”

I step up to the railing and hold out a hand. “The binoculars, Nana. Aunt Bea. Ray. Aunt Glory. Dita. All of you. Put them down or hand them over.” I am such a stick in the mud.

“Holy shit,” Ray breathes. “The muscles on that guy are like…this isn’t fair. Women can get turned on and nobody knows, and here I am, popping—”

“Gah. Enough.” Aunt Bea snatches his binoculars with one hand and waves him away with the other. “I don’t care who you pop for, but you don’t do it in front of your mother.”

“I don’t mind if you pop it in front of me,” Nana tells him. “Here, sweetie. Have a candy. Tillie Jean, fetch my purse and get that boy a peppermint.”

“Rawk! Big dick growly bear! Rawk!”

I fan myself. He certainly is a big-dicked growly bear, and I would very much like to look.

Especially since Ray’s talking about his muscles.

And he sold tickets.

Max throwing a ball on the mound fully-dressed in his uniform is catnip for this Max Cole-obsessed kitty cat.

Seeing how his muscles bunch and flex under his bare skin while he’s hurling a fastball?

It’s an erotic dream.

Stop it, Tillie Jean. He’s not into you.

I shake my head again and frown at my grandmother. “Nana, that bird’s going to get arrested for his mouth.”

She shoves her binoculars at me. “That man should get arrested for having a body that hot and hard. Your pop was a good-looking man in his day, but even he wasn’t that glorious. And he got a new tattoo.”

“Pop?”

“Max. Hoo, it’s a beaut.”

I’m holding binoculars.

I was basically naked in his kitchen three weeks ago while he ate me out like a beast, and I have zero doubt I would’ve gotten the full close-up view of a hard-on blessed by the gods if Grady’s freaking goat hadn’t broken in.

He sold tickets. He’s okay with people looking. “Did he put a restriction on who could buy tickets?” I whisper.

Aunt Bea whoops.

“Hundred bucks, TJ,” Aunt Glory says. “Cooper kept selling tickets after Max left breakfast. You’re good.”

Nana shoves a piece of paper at me. “Here. Add your signature to my copy of my waiver. We’ll deal with Cooper later.”

I shouldn’t.

I really shouldn’t.

But I scribble my name beneath Nana’s on her waiver, and tell myself it’s only that I’m curious about his new tattoo.

I’m not going to look at his ba-dingle-do.

On purpose.

But, oh, sexy Max.

Sexy, chiseled, fully-in-control Max.

He’s lifting his bare left knee to his chest as he holds the top of his glove to his chin, staring down the catcher. I can’t see the goods. Just the flex and release of his muscles as he pulls his right arm back, ball fisted tight in his fingers, then flings it forward with his left leg stepping down and his right leg lifting high in the air behind him as he releases.

It’s a gorgeous pitch made even better by being able to see every last inch of his sun-kissed skin—he was totally sun-bathing nude on vacation—and the new sea turtle tattoo on his shoulder and the heavy weight of his package between his thighs.

My thighs clench and everything inside me gets warm and tingly.

I should stop watching.

I should really stop—

A police siren cuts through my thoughts, and I drop the binoculars with a shriek. They tumble down the side of the mountain.

“Tillie Jean!” Nana gapes at me. “Those were my favorite pair.”

Busted.

I am so busted.

My lips flap for a minute before I find words for Nana. “Sorry. Sorry sorry. I’ll buy you a new set.”

“Ladies,” my cousin Chester says as he pulls himself out of the sheriff’s car. “Ray. What’re we doing up here?”

“Bird-watching,” Nana says.

“Rawk! Big dick growly bear! Rawk!”

“I’m gonna shoot that parrot,” Dita mutters to me. “But isn’t he hot? I finished hot flashes two years ago and here I am, forcing them on myself again and about to get arrested. Worth it.”

“Y’all ain’t standing here looking at a naked man down there having a photo shoot, are you?” Chester asks, eyeballing Ray’s crotch.

“Go away, you turd,” Ray snaps. “We have permission to be here.”

“Don’t be disrespecting the law, little brother.”

Dita waves her waiver. “You are a turd, Chester, and we do have permission to be here. Plus, we’re keeping any other onlookers from watching if they don’t have tickets. But you know what you really need to do? You need to get over there.” She hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “I saw a flash of light on that mountain. And you know if it’s over there, it’s those assholes from Sarcasm, and they definitely don’t have permission.”

Chester hooks one thumb in his waistband and rocks on his heels. “It’s against state law to buy tickets for a peep show.”

“Chester Rock, you’re not planning on taking your granny to the station in handcuffs, are you?” Nana asks. “If you are, I might have to call your grandfather. You know he loves it when I get cuffed.”

Chester winces.

The rest of us wince too.

Some days I really wish I didn’t know Doc Adamson kept little blue pills in stock just for my grandparents.

“I’m gonna have to cite all of you,” Chester tells us.

Dita gasps. “What? We were just standing here looking at the pretty mountains.”

Chester looks at me. “And using binoculars to spy on a private photo shoot.”

I lift my hands. “I don’t have binoculars.”

“Tillie Jean, I got a dash cam. Don’t go being cute. The rest of these fine ladies have an argument to be made, but you’re red-handed, cuz.”

“And you haven’t actually paid for your ticket yet,” Aunt Glory side-whispers to me.

I gasp. “I wasn’t—it’s not—but I—you know I’m good for it.”

“Gonna have to ask the fine gentlemen down in the valley if they want to press charges.”

Now he’s playing dirty. “Do not make me tell the story about you on your fourteenth birthday.”

“Threatening an officer of the law…”

“Chester, we all know this is about her chocolate cake taking top honors at the fair three years ago.” Nana clucks her tongue. “You need to let that go, sweetheart. It was a losing proposition to start with, and we told you so.”