“Aaaaand he’s shirtless,” Sloane said, a little breathy even to her own ears.

Ms. Peggy took a bite of her cookie. “Praise the Lord.”

Brady must have sensed that two women were ogling him. He cut the engine on the mower, looked their way, and wiped some sweat off his forehead with his arm. The movement started a fascinating ripple of muscle and sweat.

“I think I better take him something to drink,” Sloane decided.

“He’d probably like that,” Ms. Peggy agreed. She didn’t follow as Sloane hurried into the kitchen. She raised her voice so it carried into there instead. “You know, for the pageant, you should consider doing something that requires him to be shirtless for the talent portion.”

“Hey, now!”

“I’m just saying, I think the female judges would appreciate that,” she called back. “I mean, I’m no fan of the grouch, and yet, here I am, trying to picture him naked like some kind of schoolgirl.”

“Ms. Peggy!”

Sloane pulled a glass down and reached out for the Brita pitcher. There she went again, wondering about the same thing.

“I know he’s your man and all, but you can’t blame me for wondering. I’m old and senile.”

Sloane filled the glass and went back into the living room. Ms. Peggy tore her eyes away from shirtless Brady. Sloane smiled.

“You’re older, not old,” she corrected. “And calling yourself senile doesn’t senile make.”

Ms. Peggy laughed. “You’re too sweet for that boy, Sloane. You know that, right?”

Sloane kept smiling and went for the front door. “I know.”

“So he must be really good in bed, huh?”

“Ms. Peggy!”

The older woman cackled as Sloane pushed into the heat of the day, her own heat coursing up her neck. Brady finished wiping away as much sweat as he could and watched her with a raised eyebrow.

“I brought you some water,” she announced unnecessarily. “I thought you might like some.”

“What I’d like is to not be out here in the first place,” he grumbled. Still, he accepted the offer. He took a long drink, and, even though she didn’t want to, Sloane’s eyes couldn’t help but drink him in again.

Beautiful. Strong. Run your hands up and down worthy.

Praise the Lord indeed.

“Hey, sweet cakes, my eyes are up here.”

Sloane cleared her throat and did a weird hybrid of a laugh and a panicked spasm.

“I know that. I wasn’t—you know, I was just…wondering where your clothes are. You’re raising poor Ms. Peggy’s blood pressure with this shirtless show.”

Brady met her eye. The contact did nothing for the heat that was slowly consuming her life.

He took a small step forward and leaned over. A smirk rang through his voice. “And what about you, sweet cakes?”

“Wh-what about me?”