It's in His Kiss by Jill Shalvis Page B

infinitely relaxed about it. She felt infinitely relaxed about everything, including the fact that it was time to supplement her jingle income. The only thing that could have improved her mood was a Sexy Grumpy Surfer sighting.
    But she didn’t get that. Not from her window, not on the beach, not from his boat, not anywhere Sam I am . . .
    She did get pizza with Olivia. And as promised, it was homemade, and out of this world. Becca learned that Olivia not only ran the vintage store but owned it, which explained her fabulous clothes. She also made a mean chocolate chip cookie, and if Sam hadn’t already rocked her world, Becca might have said the cookies were better than orgasms. As it was, the cookies were a close second.
    But though they’d spent several hours together, Olivia didn’t open up much, and her eyes stayed hooded.
    Olivia had secrets.
    As Becca had her own, she hadn’t pushed.
    She spent a few days perusing the want ads and cleaning up her space, making it a home. She realized that said a lot about Lucky Harbor being more than a so-called pit stop, but she wasn’t going to feel bad for loving it here.
    Three days after her night with Sam, she’d unwrapped a new—to her—lamp and couch she’d bought from Olivia’s shop and was lugging the paper the lamp had been wrapped in to the Dumpster when she realized Sam was there with his shop vac. He was emptying the bag when he caught her staring. He stared right back like maybe he liked what he saw. He did that, she’d noticed, showed his appreciation in nonverbal ways. With his eyes. His slow, sexy smile. The sound he made deep in his throat when he—
    “Hey,” he said.
    Wherever he’d been, he’d gotten some sun and, as usual, looked good enough to eat. “Hey yourself.” She turned to go.
    “About the other night,” he said to her back. “I didn’tmean to vanish on you. I got called out on a job that took me away for a few days. And out of cell range.”
    She had to admit that she’d wondered if he’d disappeared to distance himself from what had proven to be an explosive chemistry between them. At the realization that this wasn’t what had happened, something loosened in her chest.
Relief
. She hadn’t scared him off. “You’re covered in sawdust,” she said inanely.
    He looked down. “Got home late last night and went right to work on a boat I’m building for another client.” He shifted closer and stroked a thumb over her jaw. “You okay?”
    Something about his proximity made her a little speechless, so she nodded.
    His eyes never left hers as he appeared to search for the truth in this statement. He sifted his fingers through her hair, gently gliding his thumb beneath her eye. “Your bruise is gone.”
    “Yes, and I’ve grounded myself from reading my e-reader at night.”
    He flashed that dangerous smile, which faded some when his cell buzzed. “Talk,” he said into it, and then listened a moment. “Cole already left? Shit. Did you flush out the engine? Check the water pump? Yeah? It’s got good water flow? The water hot or warm?” He listened some more. “Sounds like something’s stuck in the outflow tube. Shut it down, I’ll be there in ten.” He ended the call.
    “Problem?” she asked.
    “There always is.”
    “And you’re the go-to guy?”
    “At the moment,” he said, master of short sentences.He looked at her then. Like really looked at her, in a way no one else ever seemed to. “How’s the jingle writing going?”
    She mimed hanging herself with a rope.
    He smiled. “Need another Band-Aid?”
    The words were like a hot caress, and she felt her nipples react hopefully. “You have an engine problem requiring your attention,” she reminded him.
    “There’s always time for a break.”
    She laughed. Spoken like a man. “I’d have my mind on work,” she said.
    He flashed her a very bad-boy smile. “Becca, I can promise you, your mind wouldn’t be on work.”
    Her pulse took a hard leap at yet another