watch him drive away. But during the interminable wait for her car to be unloaded, she’d thought a lot about the handsome stranger.
“Tell me more,” Callie ordered. “Gorgeous... What else?”
Her friend knew her well enough to realize Lindsey wouldn’t have been fascinated by just a handsome face. “He was funny, quick-witted, and had the sexiest smile, complete with dimple.”
Realizing she was gushing over a virtual stranger, she fell silent, though she didn’t stop mentally ticking off Mike’s attractive qualities. Like his charming protective instincts—he’d assured her he’d dive in after her should she leap overboard, and she believed he’d really meant it. He also had a great, throaty voice and a warm laugh.
Then there were the shoulders. The chest. The powerful arms. Oh lord, the entire package. How could she not have noticed his physical appeal, especially once he’d caught her in his arms, holding her safe and steady while her heart lurched far more than the boat had?
And how absolutely crazy that she was so interested in him, considering she had, years ago, built a mental barrier between herself and every man she met?
Sex was fine; she’d have it occasionally, but she never considered how decent a guy was, or if he was protective, or kind. Not having experienced those qualities in many men in her personal life, she’d learned to never look for them. That way she’d never be disappointed when she didn’t find them. How strange, then, to find herself realizing that, on the surface at least, this near stranger possessed them all.
“So, he’s definitely worthy of the Dr. Smith method, huh? Wait, lemme put on my thinking cap.”
Lindsey snickered. Callie was probably the only person who could tease her about the whole mentally inspired-orgasm thing. There’d even been one night at a Mexican restaurant, after a few margaritas, when they’d dared each other to try to think their way into a public climax. But they’d dissolved into giggles almost immediately.
“Definitely Thinkgasm worthy,” she replied.
“You know, I bet if you’d researched a man’s ability to ejaculate purely by mental fantasy, you’d have gotten a gajillion dollars to fund further study on the subject and a column in Psychology Today.” Her friend sounded indignant.
“Uh-huh. Instead, I got a Jeopardy! question and a meme.”
“My mom thought the Jeopardy! question was severely cool.”
“Well, yeah, it kinda was.”
Other than that, though, nothing about her work situation was very cool. Far, far from it. After all her hard work and the passion she had for her field, her research—and now Lindsey herself—was a laughingstock. Which was why it was a very good thing she had something else to do, someone else’s problems to focus on. Just hearing Callie’s voice had lifted her spirits, and she found herself thankful—again—that she had the other woman for a friend. Knowing how much Callie appreciated her help made it easier for Lindsey to forget about what was going on in the real world. She had work to do on Wild Boar—a new home, a new job, eager students. This would be good for her, very good.
“Anyway, this two-month break should be long enough for the tongues to stop wagging. When I leave here, I’ll have hopefully stayed out of the limelight for enough time to get back into my bosses’ good graces. I’ll be able to reclaim my career and reputation without coming across like the modern-day version of Dr. Ruth.”
“Cucumbers...pfft! Amateurs,” Callie said, with a go-you tone. “Look, I’ve got to run. Billy’s getting out of the shower and we’re heading to the hospital.”
Wishing her friend a nice day, she hung up and refocused on her driving. She wasn’t going to spend any more time thinking about her work problems, any more than she was going to let herself think about sexy Italian-looking dudes with great bodies and killer smiles.
Coming to what she suspected was Wild Boar’s main road, she turned right and proceeded toward the south side of the island. There was, Callie had told her, a thriving downtown area to the north. She’d bet the “downtown” consisted of a general store and a total of three restaurants, one of which regularly served a blue-plate special of meat loaf or turkey-and-gravy. She’d save that fun trip for tomorrow since she also needed to find the school where she’d begin teaching on Monday. Right now, though, she just wanted to locate her new home, unpack and lie down to get rid of the lingering seasickness.
Lindsey glanced down at the sheet of paper on which she’d written the landlady’s verbal directions, trying to make sense of her own scrawled writing. She was coming to a split in the road, and couldn’t tell whether her directions indicated to go right or left.....
“Should’ve paid attention in Mrs. Dickey’s second grade penmanship class,” she could hear Callie whispering.
This island wasn’t that big. Even if she took a wrong turn, somebody would be able to point her in the correct direction. From what Mike had said, every resident here knew she was coming and where she would be living. Besides, she didn’t have a penis; she was capable of stopping and asking for directions.
Praying she wasn’t making a mistake, she swung to the left at the fork, looking back down at the paper for the name of her next turn. Apparently, though, she spent too much time staring down, because, before she’d even realized anyone was behind her, she heard the quick blurp-blurp of a siren.
“Hell,” she mumbled, hoping it wasn’t a cop and that she wasn’t the one being blurped at.
Looking in the rearview mirror, she saw a big, dark vehicle. She noted the spinning dome light on the dash and sighed. Definitely a cop. And right behind her. Blurping.
Wow, her luck was so great lately, she ought to go out and buy a lottery ticket.
Pulling over onto the side of the narrow, unlined road, hoping no big trucks would come by to cream her, she plucked her driver’s license out of her wallet, lowered the window and waited.
“What a fantastic way to start my new life,” she muttered, rubbing at her eyes with the tips of her fingers. “Can this day get any worse?”
“That depends on how your day’s been going so far.”
She jerked her hand away from her face, swinging her head to stare at the man standing right beside her car.
The familiar man.
The one who had just kept her from falling overboard into the choppy lake.
The one she’d just been comparing to a heavenly angel and a sexy devil.
Mike. Who was, if the lights and siren on his vehicle were to be believed, an officer of the law.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“We meet again.”
“Please tell me that’s a fake light and you’re not a real cop.”
“Would serial-killer-posing-as-cop-to-lure-unsuspecting-victim work better for you?”
“So not funny.”
“Sorry.”
She leaned out to gaze up at
