I made a face. “Can you get out of it?”

“Not easily. It’s a new client for me, one who does a lot of business around here in the summer, and he could turn into a great repeat customer if the weekend goes well. I could see if one of the other companies can do it instead, I guess—”

“No, don’t do that,” I interrupted, hating to see his business suffer. We both needed every booking we could get. I nibbled my lower lip. “Do you want to go out Wednesday night, before you leave? What time are you done Saturday? Will you be back in the evening?”

He resumed working on my foot, giving each toe individual attention. “Wednesday night, I’m all yours. And I can just leave the boat at the marina on Saturday night. I’ll go up on Sunday to get it out of the water and bring it back to Reynolds.”

“That’d be nice.”

“If nice is the word you’re using to describe it, I’m not doing something right,” he teased, leaning down to suck my toe into his mouth.

Surprised, I pulled back, my leg jerking down the length of his body and over his hard —oh! I stared at his erection tenting his shorts.

“Hey, Sadie?”

“Yeah?” I asked, my attention still focused on his lap.

“You got any plans this morning?”

I peered at him from under my lashes. “You have something in mind?”

“Yeah. A little water desensitization exercise I think we should try. It involves the outdoor shower.”

“If you think it’ll help…” I ran the sole of my foot over his hard length.

“We can keep practicing until you feel comfortable with it. No matter how long it takes.”

It took the rest of the morning.

Getting clean had never been so dirty.

* * *

The first part of the week dragged, the only highlight being when West slipped into bed with me late on Tuesday night for a sleepover. By Wednesday afternoon, I was counting down the hours until our date. I hoped he planned on taking me someplace other than the Wreck, but honestly, I was happy just to spend some time with him.

Kendra grew annoyed with me checking my watch every few minutes and, at four o’clock, told me she’d finish solo and to get the hell out of there because I was making her crazy. Wrapping her in a quick hug, I grabbed my gear and scooted back home to get ready.

Even though we were going to see each other Saturday night too, I knew that’d probably be a group event, and I used the extra time I had to prep to go all out. Conditioning treatment for my hair, straightening iron, shaving all the necessary places, more makeup than normal. I slipped on a dress and shoes that weren’t flip flops for a change, knowing he’d like me no matter what I wore, but wanting tonight to be special.

Settling onto the porch with my laptop to browse Pinterest while I waited for West to text that he was ready, I lost track of time as I scrolled through hotel pictures for inspiration for my big trip. The new board I started pinning to had over sixty images on it before I checked the time again.

Six-fifty.

What the hell?

Pulling out my phone, I checked for missed calls or texts.

Nothing.

Irritated, I called his number, waiting as it rang and rang. I didn’t leave a voicemail. After shooting off a quick text, I checked his Facebook page — and Aubrey’s. No recent posts from either of them.

Clenching my jaw in irritation, I tried to resume my research on Pinterest, but I couldn’t get back into it. Fifteen minutes later, I went inside to make myself a drink — Rue’s signature basil hard lemonade. I was on my second glass when seven-thirty rolled around.

At eight, I got tired of waiting and drove to the Wreck, wondering if maybe I was supposed to meet him there. No sign of him, and Wyatt confirmed he wasn’t scheduled to bartend that night.

At eight-thirty, he finally texted back.

West: Sorry, lost track of time. I’m not going to be able to make it tonight, babe. Can I get a raincheck?

Seething, I ordered my second cup of grog and chugged it like a man, using the back of my hand to wipe off the dribble of punch dripping down the corner of my mouth. Wyatt stopped in front of me, concern evident in his eyes, and asked if I needed anything.

Nope, just fucking peachy, thanks.

I shook my head and held up my empty cup for a refill. He got me another drink, but his expression was reluctant. Tough shit. I was a grown-ass woman, and if I wanted to drink alone at the bar, I damn well could.

I glared at my phone, as if it was to blame for the turn my evening had taken.

No, I didn’t want a damn raincheck. I wanted a date with the guy I couldn’t get off my mind.