Sweet mother of all things delicious.

The man pushing the mower is dressed only in a baseball cap, a pair of cargo shorts, and bright-green running shoes. His bare, tanned back is covered in a sheen of sweat that glistens in the sun. The glistening isn’t the only notable thing about this man. It’s the broad shoulders and tapered waist, along with the flex and shift of muscles in his back and arms as he pushes that mower across the lawn.

I’ve never considered lawn mowing to be a sexy activity until this very moment.

I want to call out to Marley so she too can get a look at our lawn boy, but I don’t want to alert him to my presence. I hope he has to spend the entire weekend tending the gardens. The flowers are already in full bloom. They must need a lot of watering. I envision this man, standing with a hose in his hand, spraying those lovely rose bushes, turning the water on himself when he gets too hot, letting it run down his back in sweet, sweet rivers … God, it’s hot out here.

When he reaches the edge of the lawn, he pivots with the mower. His ball cap is pulled low, obstructing my view of his face.

But that chest. So broad. So defined. And there’s an actual six-pack. Not a pretend six-pack, or a four-pack, or the kind where the guy is obviously flexing to achieve definition, but a real one. And just from pushing a lawn mower. It’s not even uphill.

I’ll be so disappointed if his face isn’t awesome.

I take a few steps backward until I hit the sliding glass door. I knock on the window until Marley finally appears. “What’s up?”

“Check out our lawn boy.”

Marley follows my head jerk. “Whoa.”

“Right? I wonder if he comes with the house. He can mow my lawn any time he wants.” I say this rather loudly so I can be heard over the lawn mower.

Except as I’m yelling, the mower cuts out, which means everyone within a five-mile radius can hear me, including the lawn boy. I try to move Marley in front of me so I can hide behind her and disappear back into the house, but she bars the way.

At the same time, lawn boy pinches the brim of his hat between his thumb and finger, lifting it as he tilts his head up. He’s about thirty feet away from us, but based on his smirk, he definitely heard the mow my lawn comment. Awesome. Maybe I can blame it on Marley. My cheeks heat; not because the sun is shining on my face, but because I’m embarrassed to have been caught saying something so highly inappropriate. I take in the rest of his face. Oh man, it’s not disappointing in the least. He’s smokin’. And wait …

I squint and frown, wondering if this in an optical illusion. Or maybe I’m developing an obsession. The more I look at him, I swear, lawn boy is Pierce. The same Pierce whose car Marley hit. The Pierce who I embarrassed myself in front of last night. Yup, that Pierce. I give my head a slight shake and blink a few times.

Lawn boy cocks his head to the side, his brow furrowing in an expression that likely matches mine.

“Is that…?” Marley doesn’t finish the question as lawn boy abandons his mower and heads for the stairs.

I’m mesmerized by the flex and pull of muscles in his shoulders as he grabs hold of the railing and takes the steps at a jog. When he reaches the top of the stairs, I’m hit with the full force of his hotness. I’m also now 100 percent sure lawn boy is Pierce, which is … confusing. How does someone who maintains lawns afford to drive a Tesla and wear Tom Ford suits?

If his chest was impressive at a distance, it’s magnificent close-up. I take in the wall of lightly tanned, toned muscle. Even his nipples are nice, which is an odd thing to notice. I allow my gaze to travel lower, over the defined ridges of his abs, past his navel, down that sweet treasure trail to where his shorts hang low on his hips, revealing the deep, cut V that leads to the magic handle behind his fly.

I’m staring at his crotch, and possibly about to start drooling based on my sudden need to swallow several times in succession, and he’s now standing in front of me. Also, Marley is elbowing me in the side.

“Huh?” I lift my stubborn gaze back to Pierce’s face.

He’s smirking. Of course. His tongue peeks out of the corner of his mouth, and he drags a sweaty forearm across his forehead. “You’re stalking me now?”

I snap my jaw closed and cross my arms over my chest, in case my erect nipples are visible through my shirt. “What? No. Of course not.”

His smile slips, the cockiness replaced by confusion as he looks from me to Marley and back again. “What’re you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” We’ve been running into each other a lot lately. This is getting weird.

“I own this place; it’s a rental.”

“So you’re not the lawn boy?” Sometimes I suck at words.

CHAPTER 7

BEACH BABES

PIERCE

Rian’s eyes go wide, and the very pink hue to her cheeks deepens further.

I laugh, not just at her expression, but at her choice of words. From the few interactions we’ve had, she doesn’t seem like she holds back much. “Lawn boy? That’s not very politically correct.”

“Maintenance man, you know what I meant,” she mutters, eyes dropping. They land on my chest and slide lower before shifting to the side.

“So now you know why I’m here. The mystery remains as to why the two of you are.”

“Our friends rented this place for the weekend.” Marley gestures behind her. “They invited us to join them. You can call to confirm that if you don’t believe me.”

“Mar.” Rian elbows her sister in the side.

“They actually called yesterday about additional guests. Interesting that it happens to be you two.” I can only imagine what my sister will have to say about this. She was all over me about Rian last night. Something about it being kismet. I’m sure she’d consider this proof that we’re meant to be. But if I’m being honest, I kept asking her out prior to discovering she was seeing someone because I find her attractive beyond the surface. Antagonizing her gave me a thrill I haven’t felt in a while. Based on how she’s looking at me, I think it’s probably mutual. Today’s outfit consists of a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a gauzy shirt, which gives me a fantastic view of her hot-pink bikini top. And that firecracker personality of hers is another check mark.

“Maybe we should go.” Rian shifts uncomfortably. “This is … weird.”

“Why? Because of the car? Or because you told my sister I’m an asshole?”

Rian blows out a breath, eyes trained on my chest as she says, “I thought you were checking me out while you were on a date.”

I’m fighting a losing battle against a grin as she continues to justify her actions. “In that case, it was very kind of you to issue a warning about my wandering eye. Although that problem didn’t seem to be isolated to me then, and it certainly doesn’t seem that way now either.”

Rian’s gaze shifts up to mine, her oh shit expression priceless. I’d like to snap a picture of her face and add it on her phone contact, although I have a feeling she might not appreciate that.

“Well, I guess this settles it then. I’m going to go put my stuff in a bedroom, and you two can let this sexual tension fester some more.” Marley turns around and struts back into the beach house, leaving me alone with Rian.

She’s right about the tension. It’s starting to make my boxers tight.