Page 75 of Aim Assist

Donovan has been a huge hit with the women who bring their dogs in.

I snort, rolling my eyes. "Clearly."

Max glances up at me, looking almost shy. "I really like him, Ames. Like... a lot."

My heart melts a little at the vulnerability in his voice. "Are you happy?" I ask softly.

A slow smile spreads across his face, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yeah. Yeah, I am. I wish you were too, dork. I worry about you, you know."

I bat his hand away when he reaches to tweak my nose. "I know. But I'm okay, really. I've got Lucky, the shop, the stream... I'm good." It's all a lie, but I have to fake it. It'll be real one day, when I've shaken off this obsession with a summer fling.

It was only ever meant to be memories.

Max studies me, looking doubtful. He knows me too well. "Okay. But you know I'm always here if you need me, right? No matter what."

Tears prick the back of my eyes. "I know," I whisper. "Thanks, Maxie."

Damn. If it wasn't for the forty-five negative pregnancy tests, I'd think I was pregnant with all these damn tears coming to my eyes.

"Anytime, Ames." He clinks his bottle against my glass. "Anytime."

The rest of our lunch passes in easy conversation and laughter. By the time we settle the bill and head out, I'm feeling lighter than I have in weeks.

Maybe Max is right. Maybe I don't need a man to be happy. I've got everything I need right here. Family, friends, a job I love...

So what if I can't stop thinking about ocean-blue eyes and strong hands? So what if my chest aches every time I see a flash of blond hair in a crowd?

I'll be fine. I am fine.

Lucky whines, pulling on her leash to sniff a bush. I let her lead me, breathing in the fragrant summer air.

It's just a stupid crush. It'll fade. They always do.

I'm going to be fi—

My heart stops.

There, bending to lift a box from the back of the moving truck, is a very familiar tall, muscular form. Golden hair glints in the sun.

No. It can't be.

As if sensing my stare, he straightens and turns.

Piercing blue-green eyes lock with mine.

"Hello, Amy."

Liam

Amy's a flight risk.

I've been planning our reunion since before we parted ways in Monterey. Now, I'm moving in to the house across the street from her.

She rents, so she's liable to run if she feels trapped. I have to ease into it somehow.

Can't start with a marriage proposal. She'll run.

Can't ask to move in. She'll run.

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