“Why are we at your house?” she asked as he pulled into the driveway and drove around the back of the house to the garage. “Silas Wright, if you try to get me to take a nap or have sex with you right now, I will post your phone number on my next episode.”

“I’m just picking something up,” he promised. “Stay put.”

He left her in the truck with the engine running and picked up the kayak and paddle.

“No. Nope. No way,” she said when he threw it in the bed of the truck and strapped it down.

He climbed in behind the wheel and threw the truck in reverse.

“I’m not getting in that thing. Not when I have a thousand things to take care of.”

“You’re getting in it if I have to tie you to it,” he said cheerfully. “You have one thing to take care of today. That’s yourself.”

“Don’t start giving me that ‘you can’t pour from an empty cup’ bullshit,” she snarled.

“A word of advice—don’t ever say that in front of my moms or they will corner you and spend a week lecturing you on self-care.”

He made a left and a right before pulling into the lot at the boat launch.

“I can’t believe you right now,” she said, crossing her arms. She sat there stubbornly as he unloaded the kayak, the cooler, and lugged both down to the water.

She had her arms crossed over her chest when he opened her door.

“Take me back to the house.”

“Nope,” he said, reaching across her and releasing her seat belt. “Come on, slugger.” He plucked her out of the vehicle, dragged a life jacket over her head, and threw her over his shoulder.

“I am going to kick. Your. Ass,” Maggie growled, enunciating each word.

He dropped her neatly into the boat, handed her a paddle, and kissed the hell out of her. She bit him on the lip—hard—but he kept right on kissing her. It didn’t take long before she forgot her mad and kissed him back. He teased her with teeth and tongue until she was limp and glassy-eyed before breaking the kiss.

“I’ll pick you up downstream,” he said, taking his hat off and plopping it on her head.

“I don’t have my phone!”

“Good.”

She looked at him like he’d just told her he burned down orphanages for fun. “What if there’s an emergency?” she demanded.

“There’s a walkie hooked to the cooler. Channel twelve if you run into any trouble. I’ll answer.”

“I meant what if there’s a work emergency.”

“Maggie, unless the house burns down or someone accidentally chops their leg off with a circular saw, there’s no such thing. I’ll pick you up downstream.”