Becca shook her head. “I’d rather hear something like: Your future is prosperity-filled, or You’ll spin money from your ass, or. . .”

“Or,” Olivia said, “There’s a hot guy waiting for you if you only open your eyes?”

“Yeah. That’s a good one.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “It’s a true one.”

“That’s ridiculous. My eyes are open.”

Olivia laughed and came up on an elbow, eyes slowly going serious. “How do you not realize that you actually, really do have a hot guy waiting for you?”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“Don’t.”

Olivia sighed. “You’re an annoying drunk.”

This was undoubtedly true. “I chose the job, remember?” she asked.

“Sam doesn’t care about the job. That’s not what’s holding him back.”

“How do you know?” Becca asked. “You’ve holed up in here, laid so low no one even hardly knows you’re here.”

Olivia shrugged. “I’ve got windows, don’t I? And I’ve been around longer than you. I know that he looks amazeballs on a surfboard, that he looks amazeballs on a boat, that he looks amazeballs—”

“Okay, okay,” Becca said, and she did laugh then. “I get it. He looks amazing all the damn time.”

“Yes, but it’s more than that. It’s how he looks at you.”

Becca sighed. “Listen, I pretty much forced him into giving me the job.”

“Honey, no one forces Sam Brody to do anything.”

Also true. . .But he’d known she needed the money, and that had been that. He cared about her. He cared about all the people in his life. Cole and Tanner, for example. He’d do anything for them, and had. The same went for his dad, and Cole’s mom. Sam was a man who was careful with his emotions, he’d been brought up to be, and yet he could still give and care with every ounce of his body.

Unlike her.

Oh, she cared, but not deep. Going deep hurt. She’d learned that once and had never looked back. She loved her parents because they were her parents, but she couldn’t count on them.

And then there was Jase. When that situation had gotten to be too much for her to handle, she hadn’t just backed off. She’d backed off and moved thousands of miles away, leaving him alone to deal with his issues.

She couldn’t imagine Sam doing that to someone in his life, ever.

They both jumped at the knock on the door.

“That’s not my door,” Olivia said. “It’s yours.” She got up and looked out her peephole. “Well, well, speaking of the devil.”

“Oh, my God,” Becca whispered. “Back away from the door!”

Olivia kept her eye glued to the peephole. “You know, he’s got a really fantastic ass. And I’m only looking at the profile—”

“Shhh! He’ll hear you.”

Olivia turned to her in surprise. “You’re not going out there?”

Earlier, that’d been all she’d wanted. A late-night visit from her sexy surfer. Now . . . now she didn’t know what the hell she thought that would accomplish.

“It’ll accomplish plenty,” Olivia said, making Becca realize she’d spoken out loud. “You’d probably get boinked, for one. And nothing personal, but you’re wound pretty tight. You could use it.”

Becca came up on her knees, waving wildly for Olivia to shut up. “The walls,” she whispered. “Thin. You can hear me breathing. I can hear you swearing. Which means he can hear you.”

“No, he can’t.”

“Yes, I can,” Sam said.

Becca and Olivia went stock-still at the sound of his voice, right on the other side of her front door now.

Shit! “Don’t let him in!” Becca hissed.

“I have a tin of ranch-flavored popcorn,” Sam said through the wood.

“From the pier?” she asked, unable to help herself.

“Yep.” The sound of the tin being shaken came through the door. “And it’s good,” he said, mouth sounding full.

“Hey,” she called out, straightening up. “Are you eating my popcorn?”

“You bet your sweet ass. Lance warned me it was damn good, but I had no idea. You’d best hurry before I eat it all.”

He’d bought her popcorn. Oh, God. She was a dead woman.

“He’s funny, hot, and he likes you enough to buy you popcorn,” Olivia whispered.

“Don’t let him in!” she whispered back.

“Don’t listen to her, Olivia, let me in.”

Just his voice, calm but steely, made Becca’s ni**les hard. Damn it. And Olivia was looking at her like Santa Claus had just shown up. Knowing she was too weak to be trusted, Becca leapt to her feet and looked for somewhere to hide. Unfortunately she tripped over the coffee table and went down with a thud.

That’s when she realized she was maybe more than half-baked. She might be fully baked. Disoriented, she stayed there on her hands and knees a moment—until suddenly two hands slid beneath her armpits and lifted her to her feet.

“You gave my dad your car?” Sam asked.

She blinked. “Um.”

“You gave my dad your car.”

“A little bit, yeah.” When Sam shook his head, she hurried on, “He’s bringing it back tomorrow.”