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I don’t really care. Blade’s a fling I’m going into with my eyes wide open.

“Not sure.” He reaches for my waist, his palms hot against my bare skin. “Ma said Uncle John needs to straighten me out.”

He grins, and a dimple pierces his cheek. That bit of information makes me laugh, and I rest my elbows on his shoulders.

“I’ve been told something like that before.” I give the field where we came in a longing glance. I wish we had more pot or at least a six-pack.

“Who’s trying to straighten you out?” he asks, running his fingers up and down my sides.

My eyes return to his, and I do a little shrug. “My uncle’s Pastor Green.”

“No shit!”

The way he says it with a laugh makes him seem young, like a kid. I don’t like the way it makes me feel, especially with the iron rod of his erection pressing against my stomach.

Twisting my lips, I reach up to hold the sides of the diving board, moving out of his arms. “I lived under his roof, his rules, until I was old enough to get out.”

“I hear that.” Blade reaches up to hold the diving board, mirroring my behavior.

We’re facing each other, and I admire the lines of his lean muscles. Another snake is tattooed around his upper arm, but it looks amateurish, almost like he did it himself.

“So you’re staying?” My red velvet lips purse, and he winks.

“That’s what they tell me.”

His muscles flex as he walks his hands forward, bringing our bodies closer together.

“Future’s a lot brighter now that you’re here.”

I don’t know if I’m sobering up or if his enthusiasm is killing the mood.

Blade had waltzed into the bakery where I work earlier this afternoon looking for trouble. The memory of Cheater Travis was looming large, and I decided I needed to do something reckless to blow off steam.

“You’re new in town,” I had said, cocking my hip to the side.

“My uncle’s the mayor,” he’d replied with a swaggering shrug.

“Good enough for me.” I’d trotted out the door behind him, down the steps, and into the beat-up old Buick he’d parked out front.

We started on the strip at Oceanside Beach, where the high-rise condos line the shore like a wall and the tourists block up the sand. Then we had a few beers at the Tuna Tiki, the local beach bar-hangout, before he pulled out a dime bag of weed and we went back to my place to smoke it.

All in all, it was a fun, reckless day, but my buzz is definitely wearing off.

He gives me a boyish grin, and I decide I’m not looking for some Grease-inspired Danny and Sandy summer romance.

He walks his hands closer until my boobs smash against his chest. His legs pull my lower half flush against his, and I feel him hard against my panties. It’s been a while since I’ve had a non-solo orgasm, and I’m not opposed to a fling with the town’s newest bad boy.

He flashes a cocky grin before tilting his head to the side and kissing my cheek. His lips are soft, and I turn my face, ready to kiss him.

Still, before I do, I issue a warning. “Don’t get attached.”

His laugh reminds me of a young James Dean, and I’m ready. Our mouths inch closer. Another second, and they’ll meet, tongues entwining. The space between my legs grows hotter, and I briefly consider I don’t have a condom.

There’s no way in hell I’m doing this without protection, when…

FLICK! It’s a loud switch, like the throwing of a main breaker.

The entire pool floods with light, and I let go of the diving board, lowering my body into the water.

“What the fuck?” Blade does the same, joining me at the side of the pool.

The water offers little protection, as the lights fully illuminate our half-naked bodies under water. Looking up, I see we’re surrounded.

“There she is! I knew I heard her voice.” Betty Pepper is on the side of the pool, leaning down. Her lavender bouffant glows around her aged head, and she’s wrapped in a peach terry-cloth robe pointing a bony finger in my direction.

“What are you doing in my pool, Tabitha Green?” Her voice is stern as always, the quintessential school marm.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” I snark. “Having a prayer meeting?”

“The pool closes at dark, Tabitha. And it’s for registered guests only.” She says it like I don’t know very well we’re out here breaking the law. “Who is that with you? Is that Jimmy Rhodes? Jimmy, is that you?”

My eyes flick to Blade. His face is downcast, and if it weren’t so dark, I’d be sure his cheeks were red.

“It’s me, Mrs. Pepper.”

“I told your mamma I’d be looking out for you today. Did you check in with Wyatt at the hardware store? What are you doing running around with Tabitha Green?”

She says my name like it’s a bad word.

Like I’m the bad influence.

I hiss at him. “You know Betty Pepper?”

He shrugs, and a male voice cuts through my irritation. “Tabby, did you take Jimmy to the bar at the Tuna Tiki?”

My brows tighten, and I squint up at Sheriff Cole. He towers over us from where he stands at the side of the pool, and his cowboy hat blocks the security light from blinding me. Otherwise, it’s pretty much a police interrogation.

I answer truthfully. “I rode down to the strip in his car.”

“We need you to get on out of the pool now,” Sheriff Cole says, tipping his hat.

I look down at my transparent bra and panties, and there’s no way in hell I’m climbing out in front of Sheriff Robbie Cole, Betty Pepper, and what I now see is a tall, quiet guy who’s also wearing a khaki uniform.

He’s quite a bit younger than Robbie, although he’s older than me, and he stretches that polyester in a way I’ve never seen before.

Muscled arms hang from broad shoulders, leading down to narrow hips. His dark hair is short, and from

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