It’d been a long time since something or someone had moved her. She stared out at the water. It was still warm. This entire winter had been warmer than any she could remember. The lake sparkled from the late-afternoon sun, the water a deep blue. But that wasn’t what she saw. She was seeing, remembering, Cam coming out of the shadows late at night, as he had a few nights before, to help her paint the cottages. She was seeing the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunch and stretch the material of his shirt taut as he moved so effortlessly with the roller, making more headway in minutes than she had in hours.

She was seeing him grin at the paint on her face, looking so playful and relaxed that she “accidentally” painted her hand and then patted him on the back as he worked.

And then his butt. “Oops,” she’d said. “I just got paint on your best body part.”

He’d flashed her a full wolf grin. “That’s not my best body part.”

After they’d finished painting, he’d kissed her good night, and it’d been her to deepen the kiss. He’d given a low, rough, sexy male growl of approval and pressed her up against a dry wall to free up his hands. And goodness, those talented, knowing hands . . . She’d been desperately trying to get down to bare skin when her phone had gone off. One of the other EMTs had gone home sick and they’d needed Piper immediately.

Now, in the light of day, with her good spots still quivering at the midnight memories, she added a new item to her list:

• Discover Cam’s best body part.

When she realized she was smiling wickedly, she shook her head. She’d finally cracked, no doubt from a deadly lack of orgasms. But hey, that was a fixable problem. And if she got it together before Cam left Wildstone, she could fix it with him. Hmm. Maybe she should start a list on how exactly to make that happen. Or where she wanted it to happen . . . With a grin, she wrote: Have sex not on a bed . . . Then a shadow fell over her.

She jumped and slammed the journal shut as Cam sat down next to her.

He studied her face, his own amused. “I’d give a lot of money to know what you were just writing.”

She lifted a shoulder. “Making a shopping list.”

He shook his head. “You’re a terrible liar.”

This was true, and she felt her cheeks burn. “It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Wow. Lies on lies. Now I really want to know.” Leaning in, his mouth brushed her earlobe. “Bet I could get it out of you.”