Lucy wasn’t letting anybody make excuses for her. “It’s time for me to deal with what’s real in my life and what isn’t. Panda’s not.”

“He seems real to me. And you’re in love with him.”

“Stop saying that!” she cried. “Believe me, love isn’t what I feel for Panda.” That word belonged to Ted. She’d worshipped him, and she definitely didn’t worship Panda. How could you worship someone when all you wanted to do was rip his clothes off? Or laugh with him, or snarl at him, or exchange those looks of perfect understanding? With Panda, she felt like bad Lucy, good Lucy, and Viper all rolled into one. Who needed that kind of confusion?

Bree loomed over the beach towel, rescuing her from further explanation. “Lucy is staying here,” she told Temple.

“No, she’s not.” Temple jumped to her feet. “I want her back.”

“Too bad. I need her.”

“You think I don’t?”

“Tough. You can visit her here whenever you like.”

Lucy’s eyes stung. “As much as I love watching the two of you fight over me, you really shouldn’t.”

Bree moved toward the side of the house. “I have to check on Toby. There’s iced tea in the refrigerator.” She spun back to Lucy. “You stay here. Don’t let her bully you.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Temple’s mouth as Bree disappeared. “I like her.” Her smile quickly faded. “What do you hope to accomplish by running away? You keep telling me I need to face my problems, but what do you do when things get tough? Big talker runs away.”

“Be nice.”

“Fine,” Temple said in a huff. “If that’s your attitude, I won’t tell you about the phone call I made.”

“Tell me,” Lucy said, because she knew Temple wanted her to ask.

“You don’t deserve to know.”

“Tell me anyway.”

She did, and Lucy sprang up off the towel. “Are you sure about this?”

Temple glowered. “I thought you’d be happy. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Not exactly. But Lucy kept that thought to herself.

PANDA SLAPPED DOWN THE SCREWDRIVER as the doorbell rang. The only person he wanted to see right now was Lucy, and she wouldn’t be ringing the doorbell. He’d just finished wrestling with the kitchen table, and removing the bulky legs wasn’t going well.

On his way to the front door, he frowned at a cheap seascape hanging on the wall. He’d grown used to paintings disappearing and furniture mysteriously transporting itself from one room to another. Why hadn’t Lucy gotten rid of this? Worst of all was his pig. It still wore the same clown nose she’d stuck on it last week.

He reached the door and glanced through the sidelight. A bombshell blonde stood on the other side.