“Sure.” I swallow, turning away as a red-hot flush runs through my body. Good grief, I’m pretty sure I’m on fire right down to the tips of my toes.

Where are those extra twenty thousand people I was asking for this morning? I know it’s Sunday and not tourist season, but come on, Karma. Help me out here.

What are the chances I’d have my ex-boyfriend and last night’s one-night stand in front of me at the same time? While hungover, with my dirty hair in a ponytail and an apron on?

Evidently, not nearly slim enough.

“We were talking,” Dax says tightly.

“What’s your point?” Aidan replies. “You’ve got your coffee and your change. That means I can order. And from what I can see, Jessie wants the conversation over.”

I like my chances.

I clear my throat and froth the milk, the noise drowning out their conversation. None of that crap, thank you very much. I count in my head until the milk is frothed enough, then pour it into each cup equally. “Sofie and Ella?” I ask, ignoring the tension between the two guys at the counter as I pass Aidan the cups.

“How’d you guess?”

“Because you look like you’re ready to kill your brothers.” I raise an eyebrow. “Seven dollars, please.”

He sets one of the cups down on the counter and fishes in his pocket. Instead of ten dollars, he comes up with a card. “This should go through.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and turn the card machine toward him so he can swipe. He does, and I clear my throat when Dax looks at me funny. “What?” I ask him, taking back the card machine and tearing off Aidan’s receipt.

“You always were real good at ignoring the obvious,” he snaps.

“Clearly that’s how our relationship lasted as long as it did,” I reply just as sharply.

“When do you get off today?” Aidan breaks through, his bright eyes focused on me.

I ignore the innuendo. My lips part, and I close them to swallow. “Two.”

“I’ll pick you up. ’Kay?”

Um, no. That is not okay. But somehow my mouth says, “Okay.”

“Great.” He leans forward, cups my jaw, and presses his lips to mine. My eyes flutter shut when he holds the kiss for longer than a few seconds, and I lean into him the tiniest amount.

The café door slams, and I jolt back, seeing Dax’s back disappear down Main. “Nice diversion,” I mutter, grabbing a cloth and wiping at the clean counter.

“It was a diversion until I remembered there’re several other people in here who just saw that,” he replies in a hushed tone, his lips twitching in the most assholish way I’ve ever seen. “So looks like I’m pickin’ you up at two.”

I open my mouth to argue, but before any words come out, he’s gone.

Okay.

I’m pissed.

I am really, really pissed.

Who the freaking hell does Aidan Burke think he is, strolling into my workplace and kissing me in front of my ex? So he might be a tiny bit my hero for getting Dax Michaels the heck away from me, but still. The audacity! Especially since he was the one who ran out of the hotel while I slept, leaving me to walk out this morning feeling like a total hooker.

Now he thinks he can pick me up after work like a knight in shining freaking armor and I’ll be okay with that. Well, I’m not. In fact, I’m unokay with it. I’m as unokay with it as anyone could ever be about something.

It’s like when you run out of your favorite mascara, or when you eat the last Oreo in the package, or when your spoon scrapes the bottom of the empty ice-cream carton and all you get out of it is that god-awful warm ice-cream juice.

Totally. Not. Okay.

In fact, it’s so not okay that I’m creeping out the back door and taking the back route home. I don’t care that it’s a little longer or that I have to walk through the alley behind Main Street. Nope. I just care that I won’t have to come face-to-face with that smug son of a bitch Aidan Burke.

God. He might know his way around a bed, but I still really hate his fine ass.

I’m sure there’s something wrong with that thought, mostly the “fine ass” part, but it’s been a long day. Never mind that it’s only two in the afternoon.

Hell. I’m babbling to myself now. In my head. In my thoughts. Jesus—Jessie, you need help.

“And now I’m talking to myself,” I sigh.

“First sign of madness.”

I whip around and look up and into Aidan Burke’s bright blue eyes, rage flowing through me. “Funny. I’m pretty sure the first sign of madness is sleeping with you.”

His lips curve in a slow, tantalizing smirk. “Then, baby, you’re crazy.”

“Sherlock on his day off, is he? Watson on vacation or something?” I storm past him, pushing my bangs out of my eyes. He reaches for me, grasping my hand before I can snatch it back, and I glare at him. “What?”

“I always wondered what it’d be like to fuck you. Now I know.”

“Isn’t this a conversation for your right hand?”

“No, but it could be for yours.”

“Only if that hand is around your neck.” I snatch said hand out of his and put it on my hip. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

“Come with me,” he says, his shoulders rising and falling. “Please?”

“A Burke boy saying please? Did I die and go to hell? ’Cause y’all sure ain’t goin’ to heaven.”

His lips twitch. “Jessica.”

I take two steps away from him.

“Jessie,” he corrects himself. “Come on. Just for ten minutes.”

“Take me home,” I demand, turning back to him. “Let me get changed, and then I’ll consider it.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes intent on me as he obviously considers it. “Fine.” He grabs my hand once more and tugs me between two buildings and onto Main Street.

I shield my eyes from the sunlight before sliding my sunglasses down as we step from the shadows created by the alleyway, almost falling after him. He leads me to a motorcycle and releases my hand only to kick the stand up and haul his leg over the top. I swallow hard, staring at the sleek black bike, ignoring the way his arms flex, the muscles tensing as he grasps the handlebars.

“Jessie?” Aidan asks, meeting my eyes and holding out a helmet.

“I’m not getting on that . . . thing.”

“This thing happens to be my baby. You wanted a ride, you’re gonna get one.”

I already did—I just don’t want another. “You know, I think I’ll walk. On second thought. Call me instead, okay?”

“I don’t have your number.”

“Email.”

“If I ain’t got your number, I sure as shit don’t have your email.”

“Then message me on Facebook. Or, you know, ask your probable future sister-in-laws for my number. In fact, you should do that anyway. I’m not giving you my number even if you paid me a thousand dollars. Which, by the way, I wouldn’t take.”

“Fuck me, you ramble when you’re angry.” Aidan kicks the stand back down and walks to me. I back up until my butt hits the plate-glass window of the florist behind me and take a deep breath when he comes within a footstep of me and wraps his hand around the back of my neck. He eases my head far enough forward so that he can put the helmet on me and buckle it beneath my chin.

I purse my lips. “How do you know I’m angry?”

“Because you look like you want to bite my balls off,” he whispers, grinning, taking my hand for the third time and yanking me to the bike. He puts his own helmet on and secures it, sitting on the black leather seat before tapping it behind him. “Sit, sunshine. I’ll take you home, then we’ll go for a ride.”

Fine.

I climb on and rest my hands on his waist awkwardly. Jesus, I don’t want to touch this man. I don’t want my hands anywhere near his godly body. I want them tied behind my back and preferably a few hundred miles between us.

Hello? Few thousand new Shelton Bay residents? Can y’all erect your tents now?

“You might wanna hold on to me a little tighter there, sunshine.”

“You might wanna quit it with the happy-go-lucky pet name, sweet cheeks. I’m fine with how I’m holding you, thanks.” I sniff.