When she’d gone out with Mason Johns last week, her past had never come up, but she knew he was aware of it. Her friends would’ve prepared him to ensure he navigated her emotional battlefield with the utmost care. In truth, she hated being “tragedy girl,” and for a brief—albeit mortifyingly out-of-character—moment last night, she’d been “Just Jenny” for the first time in a dozen years. She’d rather liked being “Just Jenny” again.

She hadn’t seen “Just Jenny” in a very long time, and apparently she’d changed quite a bit over the years, if her behavior with Alex was any indication.

You are not thinking about him!

A sharp rap on the mudroom door startled her, and she took a deep breath in through her nose and blew it out of her mouth before she went down the spiral staircase to greet Linc. He was a good friend of Tiff’s new husband, Blaine Taylor. As Blaine was the Gansett Island police chief, Jenny took Blaine’s approval as a ringing endorsement.

She opened the door and absorbed the wave of heat that smacked her in the face. Oh, he looks good. Wearing madras plaid shorts with a pink polo, Linc directed an appreciative smile at her. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had close-cropped blond hair and friendly blue eyes. He was more than man enough to pull off the pink shirt. “Hot enough for you?” he asked.

“It’s brutal.”

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you, but I feel like a wilted flower.”

“Heat getting to you?”

“Big-time. No AC in the lighthouse, which is normally fine, but not this week.”

Executing a gallant bow, he extended his arm to her. “Right this way, madam. I promise you an icy blast of air-conditioning to go with dinner.”

“You had me at icy blast.” The instant she said the words, she began to second-guess them. Did saying he’d “had her” make her sound loose or easy? After her unprecedented behavior last night, she had cause to question everything.

But Linc just laughed at her comment and led her to a royal blue two-seater BMW and held the passenger-side door for her.

“Nice car,” she said as he slid into the driver’s seat.

True to his word, he set the air-conditioner to blast. “Thanks. It’s my one major indulgence.”

Jenny closed her eyes and let the cool air wash over her. “I suppose everyone has one.”

“What’s yours?”

“At the moment, it’s your air-conditioning.”

“Very funny.” Shifting the car into gear, he left a cloud of dust in his wake as he pulled away from the lighthouse. “What is it the rest of the time?”