“It’s not mine!”
Mandy gave a big huff and gathered it up along with the rest of her lingerie, glaring at Sophie like this was all her fault. “I’ll have you know, Lucas loved me and my Rabbit more than you.” Then she whirled and headed up the dock, her heels click, click, clicking, her vibrator humming along in accompaniment.
Sophie sighed into the awkward silence between her and Lake Patrol Hottie. Actually, it was probably just her who felt awkward, because he stood there looking perfectly comfortable and at ease.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.
“Don’t be. He didn’t really die.” She backed to the bench next to the driver’s seat and dropped onto it in sheer woozy exhaustion. “What I said was that he’d passed. As in he passed on me.”
And that was all she planned on saying on the subject.
Ever.
But apparently he didn’t get the memo, because he crouched on the dock so that they were eye level and said nothing.
She grinded her teeth. The wind was back, dammit, and the boat began to rock. “Look, I said I’d move. I just need a minute.”
He nodded and…stayed right where he was.
“You don’t believe me?” she asked.
“Just waiting to see if you need any help.”
She eyed him suspiciously, but he seemed to mean it. He really would assist her if she needed it. But she didn’t need it. Not from him. Not from anyone.
Somehow she crawled behind the wheel. She started the boat before suddenly remembering she had to untie it first.
But her lake patrol guy was already on it, handling the ropes like he’d been born to the task, using his foot to push off on the hull so it didn’t scrape against the dock and get damaged. He then tossed the rope into the boat. “You’re good,” he said.
She stared at him. Was he kidding? She wasn’t good. She was a hot mess, and they both knew it. But then again, he’d meant the boat, not her, and she knew that too. Still, she appreciated his unsolicited help. “Thanks,” she said.
He nodded. Waited a beat. “Need help finding the throttle?”
This actually made her smile. “You’re a real charmer, you know that?”
“Yep. I’m fresh off the boat from charm school.”
“Where was it, Timbuktu?”
“Close,” he said, offering no further explanation.
Fine. Whatever. Over mysterious men, over men period, she hit the gas. When she glanced in the rearview mirror a minute later, he was still standing there on the dock, hands shoved in his pockets, watching her go.
Chapter 2
The very last thing Jacob Kincaid had expected on his first day back in town was a run-in with a mysterious, temperamental, green-eyed cutie. Somehow she’d managed to pull him out of his own head while also irritating and amusing him.
She’d also made him feel alive.
Since that messed with his head more than a little bit, he got in his new Ford truck and took a ride. The truck had been a present to himself for making it stateside in one piece. It drove great, but his attention was distracted by his first view of Cedar Ridge in a long time.
It felt like a lifetime since he’d walked away from his family—his mom; twin brother, Hud; and the rest of the Kincaids—when he was an eighteen-year-old hothead. He hadn’t been home.
Until now.
He’d been a lot of things in his lifetime: brother, son, friend, Army Special Forces officer.
He was none of those things at the moment, though he intended to change that. He had begun by leasing a small cabin on the lake only a mile outside of town, a place that had once upon a time been the only true home he’d ever known.
Not that he’d admitted this until recently, and then only to himself.
The cabin sat on the northeast line of the lake and was quiet and peaceful—two things his life had most definitely never been.
Something else he intended to change.
When he’d arrived late last night, he’d picked up the keys and spoken briefly to the Realtor, who’d tried to convince him to buy the cabin instead of renting it.
But Jacob no longer made quick, rash decisions.
Although he had chased away the first civilian woman he’d had contact with in a while, and he’d done it pretty quickly and rashly.
Yeah, he could’ve definitely done better there, he admitted. Clearly he was way out of practice at being sociable. Maybe he was more messed up than he’d thought, because he’d actually gotten a kick out of the way her eyes had flashed temper at him, at the world. It’d been like trying to deal with a fiercely angry, beautiful, injured feline, and in spite of the sharp claws, she’d given him something he hadn’t felt in a damn long time.