Page 43 of L.O.V.E

“Nothing,” she said with a shrug and an evil grin. One thing I hated about my best friend? Although she wore her heart on her sleeve, she was a master at feeding you juicy details only a nibble at a time, making you drool for more.

“Lacey. Come on.” I squeezed her wrist. “You can tell me. You know I keep a secret better than anyone.”

“That’s why I love you. But seriously. The list was blank. Well, except for the picture he drew at the bottom.” She pulled a folded piece of paper out of her handbag, carefully straightened the page, then handed it over. The header read:What to pack for our trip.

Below was a numbered list, one through five. Each number readNOTHING.

At the bottom of the page, he’d hand drawn a beach chair, a beach ball, a pair of flip-flops, and an umbrella, indicating she only need dress for warm weather.

“Oh, my God.” I slapped a hand to my chest. “He’s taking you to a private beach. The two of you are going to be naked all day and all night, boinking on the beach.”

“Boinking on the beach?”

“You better stock up on sunscreen.”

“Oh, Natalie.” She dropped her head back on the seat. “I didn’t know it was possible to fall for someone so hard and so fast.”

“Love looks good on you, Lacey Lulu.”

“You’re really not sad about Martin?”

“Not even a little bit.” Truth.

“I’m sorry we didn’t make a love connection.”

I’d made a connection all right, just with the wrong man. But that was a burden I’d carry to my grave. “C’mon. Let’s go home and get you packed.”

God was testing me. He had to be. After my last run-in with Cole, I’d un-joined his gym to avoid any uncomfortable altercations. I’d managed one week without a glimpse of his smolder. I had even started driving to work rather than walking to avoid bumping into him on the street.

Yet, there I stood, peonies in hand, face-to-chest with the man I was supposed to hate, and I couldn’t rile one ounce of indignation.

Even when I asked, “What are you doing here?” with as much vinegar as I could muster, my voice sounded light and airy because every cell in my body sang for joy in his presence.

Wrong on too many levels.

With a shrug and a huff, he answered, “Buying flowers.”

“Inmyflower shop?”

“Technically”—he gestured around the space with a sweep of his arm—“it’s mine.”

I was done. “Give me a freakin’ break. You own this building, too?”

“No.” He unleashed a deadly dimple. “Not yet. Should be mine by the end of next week, though.”

“Seriously.” I poked his cheek, knowing full well I had no right to touch. “Put that thing away.”

The skin between his brows bunched. His dimple faded. “Since you’re here, and I’m here, can we talk?”

Another test.

“There’s nothing for us to talk about.” I stepped left to move around him.

Cole blocked my escape. “You ended things with Martin.”

“It was for the best.”

“Why?”

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