“Too much to do, I’m afraid.” Marina pats her notebook. “But y’all enjoy. You won’t have many more lazy days like this once we start.”

She bookends her remark with a shoulder bounce and a giggle, striking sudden fear into the two men as they exchange pained looks and twist in my direction. I return their gazes with irritation and a look that says yes, you’ll have to get off your asses. They groan, taking in my meaning without needing words.

Marina takes in our cryptic exchange. “Don’t worry, fellas. It’ll be fun.”

Then, she gazes across the store dreamily. She wanders through the aisles with her lily pad green notebook, pink measuring tape, ruler, and a handful of markers and pens sticking out of her dress pocket. She’s abandoned her jean jacket and pulled her long hair into a ponytail that sways softly when she walks.

I repeat my new mantra that she’s too young, too beautiful, too goddamned nice, but bittersweet imaginings erupt anyway. Combing my fingers through her sunset hair. My lips skirting across her moonlight skin. Breathing her in like oxygen. Just the thought of her makes my body hum. Hell, being this close to her feels like an honor.

What is it about this woman that makes me feel things again—things I sure as fuck don’t want to feel?

“Oh, somebody’s got it bad,” Roy coos, snatching my attention away from her. “I’ve seen that look before.”

Wade huffs. “Shit, Grady. Hope this isn’t more about your dick than helping her out.”

“Shut up,” I yell-whisper across the counter. “I don’t have a look.”

Wade’s lips sputter as he rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you keep telling⁠—”

“I’m here, Marnie!” Christie bursts into the store, sending the door chimes into a discordant tangent. His shoulder-length gray hair hangs around his face, but he quickly sweeps it into an awkward ponytail. “I’m here, ready to help!”

“Jesus Christ,” Wade mumbles while his cohort laughs, shaking his head. “Least someone’s excited about the extra work.”

Marina beams. “You put down your book for me?”

Christie nods and pulls a mass market paperback from the pocket of his housedress. “It’s a good one, too. Amalie Howard is one of our favorite authors. The Duke and the ballerina finally kissed. Wren and I are buddy reading it.”

“That looks saucy,” Marina says. “Wren mentioned your father-daughter book club.”

“We set reading goals every year. We’re on track for thirty buddy reads by Halloween. Gives me something to do on a lazy Sunday or while waiting for the fish to bite,” he grins before smoothing out his housedress. “Wore this for the dust.”

“Smart. Would you help me with some measurements?” Marina hands him the pink tape measure. “And tell me all about this duke and ballerina? I love a first kiss.”