Page 7 of After the Vows

“Welcome to Smuggler’s Hideaway,” I say instead of explaining how there are no secrets in a small town on a small island. He’ll learn all about our nosy ways soon enough. “I’m Chloe.”

I don’t offer him a hand. The first time we touch won’t be when I’m all sweaty. Although, I do hope we touch when we’re both hot and sweaty. Something to look forward to.

“Chloe.” He grunts. “What are you doing?”

My smile falters at his angry question but I muster on. “What do you think? I’m mowing my lawn.”

“At eight in the morning on a Sunday.”

My nose wrinkles. I didn’t realize it was so early. Usually, I’m a night owl but I didn’t sleep well last night. I had a nightmare and couldn’t get back to sleep. Stupid childhood memories.

“The early bird gets the worm,” I quip since I have no idea why he’s bringing up the time. I don’t know what the problem is. He was up earlier than me to go for a run.

“The early bird gets a citation from the police for noise pollution.”

Is he serious?

“Since when is mowing the lawn considered noise pollution?”

“The city ordinance clearly indicates any noisy activities should not be conducted before 10 a.m. on a Sunday.”

“What did you do? Memorize all the city ordinances?”

“I’m a police officer. It’s my job to know the rules.”

I waggle my eyebrows. “All the better to break them.”

He scowls. “I enforce the law, not break it.”

Someone’s a fuddy duddy. But I bet I can get him to loosen up.

“I’m done mowing now anyway.”

“Good.” He glances at the lawnmower and scowls. “Are you wearing flip-flops?”

I lift up my foot to show off my sandals. “You like them? They have little seals on them. Aren’t they cute?”

“What they are is dangerous. You shouldn’t be wearing flip-flops when you’re mowing. You could chop a toe off.”

“Ew. No thanks. I wouldn’t want to ruin my pedicure.”

He doesn’t need to worry about me mowing again. There’s a reason why I hire the neighbor kid to do it. It’s hot and sweaty work. There’s only one time I enjoy getting sweaty. Hint. It’s not when I’m pushing a lawnmower.

A drop of sweat falls down my forehead and I lift the bottom of my tank top to wipe it away.

He clears his throat. What’s his problem now? His eyes are filled with heat as he stares at the skin exposed above the waist of my shirt. Oh, yeah. Someone’s interested. I decide to test my theory.

“I’m going to go have a shower,” I say. “I’m all hot and sweaty.”

His eyes flare but he coughs before retreating toward his house. “Enjoy your shower.”

Does he want me to chase him? Game on, Officer Lucas. Game on.

While I shower, I plot how I’m going to get my sexy new neighbor to notice me. This week is going to be fun.

On Tuesday, I spend an hour pumping up the tires on my bike until I’m afraid they’re going to explode. Lucas doesn’t show.

On Thursday, I wash my car. I go all out with a revealing top, tiny shorts, and end up wet and covered in soap suds. No Lucas.

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