Some Like it Hotter

To put it mildly, her lust was cooling. She’d been so primed to spend the evening in a thrilling haze of something-could-happen. Or even better, in the throes of something-is-happening. She’d been stoked and ready to be unsensible and uncautious and to do whatever she felt like.

“Hey! Chris.”

Chris turned at the familiar voice, sick dread in her stomach. Oh, no. Not him. Zac. As if she needed another gorgeous and disappointing man around tonight. She was almost homesick for a typical speed-through date with a neurotic and entitled New Yorker.

Almost.

“So.” Zac dropped onto the sand beside her as if they’d planned to spend the evening together and he was about to apologize for being late. “What’s going on?”

“I’m here with a friend.” She gestured out at the bobbing Gus dude.

“Yeah?” Zac shaded his eyes to peer out. “Who’s that?”

“Gus Banyon.”

“Gus, huh.” He stared at her curiously. “Something going on there?”

Yes, I’m carrying his octuplets. “Is that really your business?”

“Nope.” He shrugged, dug up a handful of sand and let it slide through his fingers. “Just wondering. He doesn’t seem your type.”

“Ah.” She wasn’t going to ask what he thought her type was. She wasn’t going to ask him anything. Maybe then he’d go away.

Though she had to admit he was not tough to look at. If he’d shut up, she wouldn’t mind having him around all that much. At least he was here beside her instead of out in the waves playing shark bait.

“How long has Gus been out there?”

Forever. “Oh, gee, I’m not sure. A while.”

Zac snorted. “If I know Gus, he won’t come in until it’s dark.”

“Oh.” Chris kept her features bland, fuming inside. Until dark? What was wrong with the guy?

“Gus really loves to surf. He’s on track to go pro, did you know that?”

“No.” Chris wasn’t going to admit that she didn’t even know people surfed professionally. Like, really? You could get paid for sitting there bobbing up and down?

“But I think he kind of forgets that other people don’t love it the same way.”

“I see.” She was really pissed off now. One date had tanked and now she was apparently stuck with another one she never wanted in the first place. “Doesn’t anyone have normal office jobs around here?”

“Nah.” He grinned at her.

His smile made it hard to stay properly pissed off, which pissed her off even more. “I didn’t think so.”

“How’s it going at Slow Pour?”

“You’re there every day.” Oops. She hadn’t meant to sound that bitchy. “How do you think it’s going?”

“Seems fine to me.” He lay back on his elbows, stretched his long, muscular legs out in front of him. He was a big guy, lean and lumbering, not like Gus, who sizzled with slender sexual energy. “But I want to know what you think.”

“I like it there.” She tried to sound gentler. It wasn’t Zac’s fault her evening had started rough.

“I saw pictures of NYEspresso online. Totally different concept, huh.”

“Different cities. Different sisters.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Chris barely kept from jerking around to stare at him. What was that supposed to mean? Was he comparing her unfavorably to Eva?

She scoffed. Who cared? Unless and until he was actually her brother-in-law, she was indifferent. In fact, she was not interested in discussing Eva or herself with him. Or interested in discussing anything with him. She wanted to go home and pull the covers over her head and have a good cry. Maybe punch something.

“But you’re liking it here?”

“Sure.” Chris was exasperated. Did he not get the hint when she answered with monosyllables or didn’t answer at all that she was not interested in talking to him?

“Nice weather anyway.” He was watching her, she could tell, and it made her want to fidget. Actually it made her want to put her hand out and push his manly jaw away so he could check out Gus instead and she could have peace. “But slow, quiet. I imagine you’re so used to going one hundred percent that you sometimes feel like you’re falling behind.”