I paid for his meal with my own money. It was the least I could do after everything he was doing around the property.

“Well, thank you. It was really good.” He put his card back in his wallet before throwing down a twenty, which defeated the purpose of my treating him.

“You okay getting home later?” he asked.

“Yeah. I have my car.”

“That clunker I see parked in front of your house?”

“Yeah. It runs well enough, at least to get me here and back.”

“Well, be careful driving home.” He stood. “I’ll see you around.”

He wasn’t even gone yet, and immediately my brain began plotting my next opportunity to see him. Without knowing exactly what I was going to say, I called after him.

“Noah…”

He turned. “Yeah?”

What now?

I had nothing to say. I just didn’t want him to leave.

After a pause, I fabricated a story.

“My mother wants to meet you…to thank you for your help with the house painting. She asked me to invite you over for dinner this week—on Thursday, my night off. I’ll do the cooking, of course, because she isn’t capable of making more than a sandwich lately. I told her you would probably say no, but I promised her I’d ask.”

Noah chewed his bottom lip and seemed hesitant. He finally shrugged. “Okay.”

“Really? You’ll come?”

“It’s just dinner, right? Why not? Thank you for the offer.”

I smiled wide. “Great. Say seven?”

“Yeah. Okay.” He nodded. “Goodnight.”

“’Night.” I watched as he walked away and disappeared out the door.

I was still in a haze when Marlene crept up behind me.

“Spill. Are you fucking that guy or something?”

I shook my head, eyes still on the door. “No.”

“Then why are you grinning like a fool right now?”

“I am?”

“Yes. So why aren’t you fucking him?”

“Because he won’t go near me with a ten-foot pole for starters. He treats me like a kid.” I sighed. “God, he’s…I don’t know…different. I can’t figure him out… Well, except for the fact that he doesn’t seem interested. That part is pretty clear to me.”

“You should figure out how to change that. He’s hot!”

“I know. He’s really amazing looking, isn’t he? But you know, Marlene, it’s not just that. There’s so much to him. He’s a talented photographer, like really creative. And he’s handy as all hell. He’s been painting the boathouse to help us. No one asked him to. He’s doing it because he knows we need the help. Not to mention, he also tried to save my life.”

“Tried to save your life?”

“Long story. But things have definitely been more exciting since he moved in. The admiration is one-sided, though.”

“Well, heck, anything to spice up your life. I think you need a change of pace with all the shit you have to go through with your mother. You deserve a little excitement.”

If only I could contain this giddiness. I had a feeling it was going to be a very long summer in that regard. I already felt myself spiraling out of control.CHAPTER FOUR* * *NOAHI don’t know why I agreed to dinner at Heather’s. Something told me I was going to regret it.

I guess I was curious as to what the deal was with her mother. I hadn’t seen the woman once since moving in. She never came out of the damn house. It was fucked-up.

Yeah. That’s the reason you agreed to dinner.

Evidently, I was pretty good at bullshitting myself if I believed meeting Heather’s mother was the reason I’d said yes.

Heather had batted her lashes at me at the restaurant, and I forgot my age for a minute when I stupidly agreed. It was hard to not feel like a goddamn horny college student around her. And that was dangerous. She was dangerous—particularly because she made no secret of her attraction to me.

From the moment I saw her standing in my bedroom, I’d noticed the way she gawked at me. She had no business looking at me like that, and I didn’t like it one bit.

Or maybe I didn’t like that I liked it.

As I strolled through the market, I stopped abruptly and looked down at what I was holding in my hand.

You dumbass.

I’d selected a bottle of red wine to take to dinner tonight, completely forgetting that my gracious hostess was under the drinking age.

I walked back over and returned the bottle to the shelf.

What the hell else could I bring?

The smell of fresh bread lured me to the bakery. With little time left, I grabbed a loaf of warm garlic bread before heading to the cash register.

That would have to do. Hopefully she wasn’t gluten-free or some shit.***I took my time walking over to the main house. Still unsure whether I’d made the right decision in agreeing to this dinner, I told myself I could always change my mind and cancel. Yet despite having the freedom to do that, I found myself in front of her door, knocking with that gigantic loaf of bread in my other hand.