She’d spent the night.

The implied intimacy of that felt far more real than even their incredible sex, and she was in the middle of a full-blown panic attack by the time she heard his truck rumble to life and drive off.

She hurriedly rushed out of his bed and found a note propped up in front of a steaming cup of coffee.

Soph—

Help yourself to whatever you need. Clean towels in the bathroom.

—J

Help herself to whatever she needed. That felt intimate too. She walked into the bathroom and stared at his shower. She could imagine the steam of the hot water, see it sluicing off his incredible body, picture the soap suds caressing his skin. His towel was damp and smelled like him—which she knew because she pressed her face to it like a hormonal teenager.

She was such a goner.

This didn’t help her panic attack any. She couldn’t breathe. She literally couldn’t breathe, so she escaped to the boat, punishing herself with her trickle-of-ice-water shower.

Help yourself to whatever you need.

Was he crazy? He was letting her in. Didn’t he know they were now in the danger zone? He was leaving, and the more attached she got, the more it’d hurt when he was gone.

She barely made it to the job on time, which today was manning the front desk of the Cedar Ridge Inn—luckily not the hotel she’d been fired from. The day was unseasonably warm and brought in a homeless guy, who made himself at home in the lobby. He looked to be at least ninety, so there was no way she was kicking him to the curb. When she took a quick break, she brought him an iced tea, and he gave her a grin that was missing a few teeth.

“Thanks, chicky,” he said. “Marry me?”

“I would, but I’m off men.” Which wasn’t strictly true, since only hours before she’d been on Jacob. Literally. On him, over him, trying to crawl inside of him…

She was supposed to be answering phones and taking reservations, but she found herself having to be more of an all-around concierge service—ordering flowers, setting up cleaning services, arranging for upscale grocery shopping for people who didn’t have time but had too much money…Then the little coffee shop just off the lobby was short a waitress, so somehow she ended up throwing on an apron and running around to serve there as well as at the front desk.

By noon she’d logged more than ten thousand steps on the phone app she’d downloaded to make sure she didn’t get fat. That was when she realized she was better at the job she hadn’t even been hired to do than any job she’d had recently.

Concierge. “I’m really doing the wrong job,” she said to no one.

“True,” the old guy said from his perch on a lobby couch. “With those curves, you’d be making more money standing on the street corner, I can promise you that.”

“Hey,” she said. “You behave.”

He flashed her a gummy grin missing a front tooth. “Where’s the fun in that? And besides, have you seen your legs?”

She rolled her eyes and then froze as she caught sight of the man getting out of his car in front of the place.

Lucas.

She absorbed the shock of that just as her phone buzzed an incoming text from Jacob.

Picking something up for dinner. Wanna share?

With one eye on Lucas heading her way, she quickly texted back: Busy with a client right now.

Lucas was wearing some fancy-ass suit that made him look like he should be on the front of GQ, including the blonde hanging on his arm. Crap. What the hell was he doing here? She knew he owned part of the place, maybe twenty percent, but he owned part of a lot of Cedar Ridge.

Brain racing, she quickly yanked off her apron, and with nowhere else to hide, ran out from behind the counter and plopped down on the couch.

The old man waggled a bushy white brow at her. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“Shh!” She nudged him. “Quick, sit up straight, no slouching. Don’t speak. And don’t smile either!” she hissed just as Lucas strode in the front door with his latest sidepiece.

He stopped short at the sight of Sophie on the couch. “What are you doing here?”

She shrugged with what she hoped was elegance and a casual air.

“She’s on a date with me,” the old guy said.

Sophie jabbed her elbow into his side, coughed to cover his “oomph,” and stood up. “What are you doing here?”

Lucas didn’t answer. His blonde did. “We have a room.” She ran a hand up Lucas’s chest. “For the whole night this time!”

Sophie slid Lucas a look that said, You’re scum, which Lucas ignored. He walked around her and headed to the front desk, the blonde in tow. Once there, he tapped twice on the bell.