as she drove away from the ferry landing, her bones jarring with every bounce of her Prius on the roughly graveled drive.
She’d gotten directions to her rental cottage from her new landlady—whom Callie had put her in touch with—figuring there wasn’t much chance of getting lost on this spit of land. Still, nothing was marked and her pampered hybrid was already unhappy.
Her cell phone rang, and she pushed a button on her steering wheel to answer it, using the car’s Bluetooth since she had to keep her hands right where they were. It was her friend. “Callie, what have you gotten me into? I’ll bet there’s not one charging station on this island.”
“You’d win that bet. But give it a chance—you’ll love it.”
“Love” might be an exaggeration, but she would do it because she’d promised Callie. “How are you doing? You sound tired.”
“I’m fine. Does any new mother sleep well?” Callie sniffed. “Even one who doesn’t have to get up for nightly feedings?”
That sniffle indicated tears, and the comment had revealed a lot about what her friend was feeling. For Callie, not being able to hold her son was probably the second-hardest part of this ordeal—after not knowing if he would live or die.
“You’ll be doing that soon enough. Right now, rest and get better. You’ll need your energy when that sweet boy comes home.”
Callie cleared her throat. Lindsey could almost see her petite, curly-haired friend blinking away tears and straightening her shoulders. “So update me. How was the ferry crossing?”
“Hideous. Painful. Awful. This is not the heaven you described.” Then, wanting to cheer her friend up—and to distract her—she said, “Though, I have to admit, I did meet a man who looked like a male angel. Or, well, maybe hot, sinful devil would be a more appropriate comparison.”
Mike, the guy she’d met on the ferry, had been so dark and seductive with all that thick, windblown brown hair; the deep-set, chocolate-brown eyes; square jaw and powerful body. His height had made her feel positively petite, though she stood five-foot-seven. And his mouth was something that should have been carved by an artist. Pretty couldn’t describe such masculine lips. No, they were...perfect.
No doubt, he’d looked nothing like a safe, innocent seraphim and everything like a wicked, sultry devil sent to seduce women out of their clothes and their good sense. Yum.
“Ooooh! Do tell!”
“This superhot, brown-haired guy was on the ferry, too, and he saved my life.”
“Did you fall overboard?” Callie squealed.
“Well, no, but I definitely considered leaping.”
“I understand. It’s a lousy mode of transportation. Now spill on this guy. What was his name?”
“Mike.”
“Last name?”
“I never got it.”
Callie harrumphed. “You so suck at this. Hmm. Mike, brown-haired Adonis? Not ringing a bell. Why didn’t you get his full name? Or at least make plans to get together for wild-monkey sex?”
Ahh, Lindsey was glad she’d been able to distract Callie, and that her friend was now feeling better.
“No time. He hurried off the ferry before I had the chance to do either of those things.”
Mike had apparently ridden across to the mainland without his car. As soon as they’d docked, he’d gotten a call on his cell phone. His frown as he’d answered said the call was a serious one. Assuring her they’d see each other soon, he’d said goodbye and hurried off the boat, heading toward a big SUV in the parking lot.
Lindsey had been too busy falling to her knees to give thanks for their safe arrival—at least, mentally—to 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.