“Oh! Right…over.” She turned to me with expectation in her eyes. “I’m supposed to tell you that it’s low tide, so come eat.” She nodded with a smile, satisfied that she’d delivered her message.

“Eat at three forty-five in the afternoon?” I questioned.

“I like snacks,” she told me matter-of-factly.

“Good point. Where are we supposed to go?”

“To the beach. Daddy’s there.”

The fluttering in my belly quickened, and I mentally cursed myself. It had only been four days since I’d seen Jackson at the barbecue. He’d been at work when I’d stopped by to check on the house, and I didn’t attempt to stalk him or make myself obviously available.

Because I wasn’t.

Even joking with myself that I might be available was cruel. But I didn’t have the heart to deny those big brown eyes looking at me beseechingly. Guess I was a masochist, because I stuck my hand out to take Finley’s.

“Okay, we’ll go.”

“Yay!” She pressed the button on the side of the walkie-talkie. “Daddy Montgomery, she said yes! Over!”

“Good work, Fin! See you soon, over!”

“When do you need my answer on the colors?” I asked Steve as Fin hopped down from her seat.

“If you want us to throw the siding on before the Frisco job, then I’ll need it in the next couple of days so I can get everything here.” He smiled at Finley. “Say hi to your dad for me.”

“Sure thing!” she answered.

“I’ll think it over,” I told him, my eyes drawn back to the teal even though I knew that was the most ridiculous, ostentatious choice I could make.

We said our good-byes as Steve headed toward the cranes hovering over my house. Hand in hand, Fin and I steered clear of the construction, then crossed over the dune to the beach.

Jackson had a blanket spread out on the sand, anchored at the corners with a small cooler and a few rocks.

Stop getting all gooey. It’s not a date.

Ugh. Did he have to look so good? He walked over to meet us, barefoot in swim trunks, the wind ruffling his hair and plastering his T-shirt against his carved-by-Michelangelo body.

“You made a picnic?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t sound as breathless to him as it did to me. What the hell was wrong with me? He wasn’t the first attractive man I’d been around since…everything happened, but he was the first I was attracted to, that was for sure.

“Don’t get excited. It’s just snacks.” He shrugged with a little smile that did inappropriate things to my stomach.

“Pickles, and strawberries, and Skittles!” Finley raced over to the blanket.

“And low tide,” I said softly. He’d remembered his promise, and damn if that wasn’t more attractive than his looks.