One hot, sticky Saturday night, I pulled into the Kansas City Barbeque parking lot and shoved my keys into my purse. Even in a sundress, I could feel the sweat dripping from under my breasts and down to my stomach. It was a heat only the ocean or a pool could alleviate.

My skin was slick, and my hair was pulled into a loose knot at the top of my head. The humidity reminded me of the island, and I needed to distract myself.

I pushed the door open and froze. The first thing in my line of sight was Thomas standing in front of the dartboard with a blonde, holding her in one arm as he tried to help her aim a dart with the other.

The moment we made eye contact, I turned on my heels and walked quickly to my car. Running was not conducive in wedges. Before I could even clear the front patio, someone rounded the corner, and I plowed into him, getting knocked off my footing.

Before I hit the ground, large hands swooped me up.

“What the hell is your hurry?” Marks said, releasing me once I’d found my balance.

“Sorry. I was just coming in here for a late dinner.”

“Oh,” he said with a knowing smile. “You saw Maddox in there.”

“I, uh…can find somewhere else to eat.”

“Liis?” Thomas called from the doorway.

“She doesn’t want to eat here since you’re here,” Marks yelled back, cupping my shoulder.

Everyone dining on the patio turned to look at me.

I pushed Marks’s hand away and lifted my chin. “Fuck off.”

I stomped toward my car.

Marks called after me, “You’ve been hanging out with Val too long!”

I didn’t turn around. Instead, I reached into my purse for my keys and pressed the keyless entry.

Before I could open the door, I felt hands on me again.

“Liis,” Thomas said, breathless from jogging across the parking lot.

I jerked my arm away and yanked the door open.

“She’s just a friend. She worked in Constance’s position for Polanski when he was the ASAC.”

I shook my head. “You don’t have to explain.”

He pushed his hands into his pocket. “Yeah, I do. You’re upset.”

“Not because I want to be.” I looked up at him. “I’ll figure it out. Until then, the avoidance thing is working for me.”

Thomas nodded once. “I’m sorry. Upsetting you is the last thing I want to do. You, um…you look gorgeous. Were you meeting someone?”

I made a face. “No, I’m not meeting someone. I’m not dating. I don’t date,” I snapped. “Not that I don’t expect you to,” I said, motioning to the restaurant.

I began to sit in the driver’s seat, but Thomas gently held my arm.