"The chairs are great for sex, too," he said before he could stop himself. It just slipped out. "Nice motion."

Her jaw clenched. "Way to spoil the moment."

Damn, another strike against him. "I was making conversation."

"Change the subject," she said. "This time, don't let your penis pick the topic."

Lady was harsh. He finally came up with news he could share with her that had nothing to do with sex. "I just saw Dune and Sophie coming from the mayor's office. She's the new curator for the Barefoot William Museum."

Jen was pleased. "That's excellent news. The project will keep her busy while Dune's away."

"We'll both be away," he stressed.

"I'll miss one of you."

"I won't tell Dune," Mac said. "He'd feel bad."

She rolled her eyes. "Are you ever serious?"

"Only during volleyball and sex."

"Otherwise life is a joke?"

"I don't find you funny," he said. "You're on my case most days. You should be nicer to me."

"Nicer?" She opened her mouth, then closed it. Her silence spoke for her. He made her bat-shit crazy.

Seconds later, Randy pushed through the door. "I'm clocking out," he told Jen. He handed her a list with five projects neatly checked off. "All done."

Jenna smiled. "You worked extra hard today, Randy, especially on the loading dock. You immediately got the dolly when you saw the deliveryman's arm was in a sling and helped unload his truck. Nice going."

The kid looked down and shuffled his feet. Compliments appeared to be new to him. He wasn't quite sure how to handle them.

"Bonus day," Jen added. "Pick out something to take home. Anything you'd like."

Randy startled. "Anything?"

She nodded. "Let me know what you're taking so I can cross it off the inventory."

Randy spun on his heel so fast he nearly ran into the wall. The kid went shopping.

"You never give me free stuff," Mac complained.

"You don't work for me."

"I could volunteer like Sophie did."

"You'd only get in my way."

"Watch me." He moved toward a stack of beach towels tossed on a table. "I can fold." He took up the task.

Jen crossed her arms over her chest and watched. "Retail is not your calling," she eventually said.

The corners of his towels didn't meet and the stack tilted left. The pile could not be displayed. He needed folding lessons.

Randy returned with his freebie in hand. The kid could've selected designer sunglasses, a surfer's braided-leather bracelet, or a shirt from the Beach Heat collection. Instead, he'd chosen a small sand globe.

"For my sister," he said.

Jen smiled. "She'll love it. Wrap the globe in tissue paper and put it in a gift bag."

"A gift bag?" His eyes widened.

They were seldom given out, and only to special customers who spent more than one hundred dollars. "The metallic blue bag is exceptionally pretty," Jen said. "It sparkles."

"Thanks." He turned to Mac on his way out and gave him some advice. "Man, you need to work on your moves." Then he was gone.

"I don't see him with a girlfriend," said Mac.

"I don't see you with one, either."

"That hurt my feelings."

She laughed in his face.

The shop was dead quiet, though Mac could see a steady flow of traffic outside the front window. People were coming off the beach and strolling along the boardwalk. Those passing by carried the excitement of the day's activities with them.

"Now what?" Mac posed the question he couldn't get off his mind. "It's just you and me-"

"And my six o'clock customers."

He watched Jen tuck in her shirt and smooth the wrinkles with her hand. She slid open her desk drawer, drew out a comb and ran it through her short blond hair before adding a little gel. Next, she glossed her lips with cherry balm, then switched out her pink rubber flip-flops for a sexy rhinestone pair.

"I'm going to stand at the door, smile, and flag down customers," she told him.

He raised a brow. "A little red-light retail?"

"Only you would see it that way," she said. "The sandcastle and kite flying contests are over. Tourists are deciding on dinner and souvenirs. Some shop owners will hand out discount coupons; others will give away free samples. I need to catch the crowd's attention, too."

"I'm a big draw."

She considered him. "You're the poster child for fun in the sun."

"I give good fun."

Jenna Cates stared at Mac James. The man had a point. Retail was slow, and if he could stir up business, she would be grateful.

But Mac needed boundaries for this to be successful. A free-for-all was out of the question, so she set down rules. "You can't slice prices," she said firmly. "There'll be no coercing or forcing people inside. No bribing, either."

He winked at her. "It's all about charm."

He changed his T-shirt before taking his place by the door. He went from basic navy to one that read My Body's an Amusement Park. No Tickets Necessary.

He drew a crowd in less than ten minutes. Jenna stood and watched, amazed. People recognized him immediately. He was a sports celebrity. Men congratulated him and women cornered him. Mac signed autographs and smiled for pictures.

He captivated everyone he met, Jen noted. He stole a woman's good sense with his smile. His blue gaze teased and seduced. People wanted to share his space and breathe his air. He appreciated their business and told them so. He expressed his gratitude to one sexy sunbather twice.

Jen kept count.

The store was soon filled to capacity. A waiting line formed outside. All merchandise moved fast. She stood behind the front counter and rang up a month's worth of sales in a single night.

She caught Mac's eye. He sent her a cocky smile. Her stomach warmed. Her panties dampened. She was lost in the lusty thoughts of him when- "My change, please?" A middle-aged man held out his hand.

Damn, she'd let Mac distract her. She hated when that happened. She quickly returned to business. Mac had suggested the Beach Heat Collection to her customer. The man had bought two button-downs. She slipped his shirts into a green plastic bag with the store logo. She counted back his three dollars and wished him a nice evening.

Jen kept the shop open until the crowd thinned.

Mac stood at the door and saw everyone out. He'd created a party atmosphere and been a great host. She was grateful for the income.

"Keys?" he asked.

She tossed him the ring of keys and he locked up.

"We moved a lot of inventory tonight," she said with a sigh. She scanned the shop, noting the significant gaps between hangers, the dwindling piles of shorts, and the reduction in flip-flops. She stifled a yawn. "I need to straighten up and replenish the stock."

He set her keys on the countertop and eyed her with concern. "You're tired," he said. "The stock can wait. Go home, recharge."

He was right. Her lower back ached from standing and bending all day. A relaxing bubble bath called to her, as did her freshly made bed. "Home sounds good," she agreed. "Sleep even better."

"Care for a bedtime story?" he asked. "I can crawl in beside you and recite a short version of The Indian in the Cupboard."

"I'll pass."

He came around the counter and closed the space between them. They were barely a breath apart. He tipped up her chin with his finger and forced her to hold his gaze.

Her cheeks grew warm beneath his stare. Her chest rose, her breasts felt heavy. He leaned in, and his dick nudged her belly. His scent was a mix of all the people who'd mingled in her shop.

Mac had greeted everyone personally. Surfers had thumped him on the back. Traces of salt water and sea air now blended with the sugary sweetness of a four-year-old's cotton candy. Mac had held the little girl while her mother selected a sun visor. The child wiped her sticky hands on his shirt.

Women's fragrances marked him as a desirable mate. Lovely, Light Blue, and Juicy drifted to her. Juicy belonged to the hot sunbather. Someone had splashed him with a fruit smoothie. Orange juice stained his athletic shorts.

Beneath the distracting scents of his fans, Jen found Mac James. He was earthy and sinful; all energy and challenge. No man was sexier.

"Dune invited me to Sophie's birthday party," he breathed against her mouth.

"He invited me, too."

"Want to go together?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, but no."

He looked confused. "Why not?"

She traced the lettering on his T-shirt. "You're exciting and fun, like a carnival ride. But all rides come to an end."

"Some make you puke."

"I'm not sick of you, Mac."

"You're still mad and you refuse to tell me why."

"You need to figure it out."

"I'm not good with mind games."

"Yet you play them all the time." She pushed past him, collected her keys, and let him out. " 'Night, Mac," she said at the door.

"You and the sandman sleep tight." He took off down the boardwalk.

Mac James had never watched a woman sleep. Jenna Cates looked good doing it. All hell would break loose if she woke up and found him standing by her bed. She could call the cops and have him arrested for breaking and entering. He didn't want to spend the remainder of his vacation in jail.

Still, he'd taken a chance. He'd made several attempts to speak to her that evening, yet she didn't want to talk about them.

He'd jimmied a back window to get inside her place. Once he had the window open, he'd heaved himself over the ledge and hit the floor with a thud. He'd drawn the attention of two of her Savannahs, Jango and Neo. They'd circled and checked him out. There'd been no biting or scratching. They'd let him off easy.

The cats stalked him down the hallway. The cottage had two bedrooms; the master was closer to the kitchen. Moonlight slanted through the bamboo shades and spread across the bed. Jen lay on her back; wisps of her hair feathered her cheek. No telltale dark roots. She was a natural blonde.

Her face was relaxed. Her lips were slightly parted. The sheet slipped to her waist. She wore her black nightshirt. Frosted Cupcake body lotion scented her skin. The rise and fall of her chest was slow and even. Her nipples peaked beneath the cotton. She appeared peaceful.

Chike, the largest of the Savannahs, lay by her pillow, all stretched out and giving Mac the evil eye. Mac glared back. He'd never had a staring contest with a cat. Chike won.

He debated climbing into bed with Jen. Not for sex, just to be near her. Maybe hold her. A first for him. He didn't understand his need to see her. He'd fought the urge and lost.

He'd liked women for as long as he could remember. He sneaked kisses as far back as the fourth grade. He'd felt his first budding breast in middle school and worked his way into a girl's panties by his freshman year in high school. He'd had regular sex in college.

He'd had a few relationships and his fair share of fuck buddies. Expectations beyond a night together were few in his mind. Pleasure and minimal conversation worked for him.

Until Jen.

He never felt lonely, but he had tonight. The feeling was new to him. He didn't like it. He'd grown antsy after leaving the T-shirt shop. His restlessness only increased when Dune took off to see Sophie. Mac invited himself along only to have Dune un-invite him.

His partner wanted to be alone with her, which Mac understood. Sophie was one in a million. Sweet, shy, and sensitive, she'd gotten under Dune's skin. Mac couldn't figure out why his own attraction ran to snippy, sarcastic, and bitchy.

Somehow Jenna Cates did it for him. For now anyway. She challenged him; made him crazy. He couldn't predict tomorrow or next week. Tonight, he couldn't get her out of his head.

With Dune gone, Mac sought out Frank to keep him company. He'd needed a distraction. He'd challenged the older man to a game of cribbage. Lost. Next, they played gin. Frank won all five hands. Mac had no more challenge in him. Frank blew him off and went to bed.

Mac next turned to the TV. After ninety minutes of M.A.S.H. reruns, he took Ghost for a walk in the orange grove. He strolled aimlessly and soon realized he was lost. There were trees everywhere and no sign of the house. Fortunately, the dog knew his way back. Mac rewarded him with a Pup-Peroni stick.