Trying was the least he could do, because . . . Piper Bellinger got to him.

He’d soaked up every second watching her work in No Name all week—and he’d come to find the high-maintenance-socialite aspect of her personality . . . well, adorable. She owned it. Wasn’t apologetic about hating manual labor or her love of overpriced shoes and selfies. And fuck, every time she cringed about the dirt under her fingernails, he wanted to lay her on a silk pillow and do all the work for her, so she wouldn’t have to. He wanted to do the spoiling. Badly.

It was obvious that she hated construction, yet she showed up every day with a brave smile and got it done. Furthermore, she made time in the afternoons to bring Hannah to see Opal, and he witnessed her growing comfort, day in and day out, with the fact that she had a grandparent. Noticed the way she’d begun weaving Opal into conversations without sounding stilted or awkward. She was trying new things and succeeding.

If she could do it, so could he.

Brendan opened the fridge and checked the champagne again, hoping the high price meant it was halfway decent. He’d tasted her unbelievable mouth yesterday evening, and his pride demanded only the best on her tongue. He’d have to stretch beyond his normal capabilities for this woman. She wasn’t going to be happy with beer and burgers and a ball game at Blow the Man Down. Not always. She’d make him work to keep her content, and he wanted that challenge.

It hadn’t been like this the first and only other time he’d dated a woman. There’d been no urgency or anticipation or raw hunger that never let up. There had been acceptance, understanding. All of it quiet.

But the thump of his heart as he climbed into his truck was not quiet.

No Name was within walking distance, but Piper would probably be wearing some ridiculous shoes, so he’d drive her to and from his house. Leaving home at this hour was not part of his usual routine, and everyone who saw his truck raised their eyebrows, waving hesitantly. They knew he’d be leaving tomorrow morning for crab season and probably wondered why he wasn’t heading to bed early with two weeks of treacherous sea in his future.

There was a woman to see to first. That was why.

Brendan parked at the curb outside of No Name. He tried the front entrance and found it unlocked, so he went in and climbed the stairs to her door. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her dressed to kill a man, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when she answered with a flirty smile and smelling exotic, like smoke. In a dress so short, he’d see everything if he went down two steps.

He almost swallowed his fucking tongue.

“Hey there, sailor.”

“Piper.” Brendan exhaled hard, doing everything he could to prevent his instant hard-on from growing unmanageable. Jesus, the date hadn’t even started yet, and he needed to adjust himself. “You know we’re just going to my house, right?”

“Mmm-hmm.” She pouted at him. “You don’t like my dress?”

And in that moment, Brendan saw right through her. Saw what she was doing. Making tonight about sex. Trying to keep things casual. Categorizing him as a friend with benefits. With a less determined man, she would have succeeded, too. Easily. She was paradise on legs, and probably a lot of weak-willed bastards wouldn’t be able to stop themselves from taking anything she was willing to give.

But he remembered their kiss. Would likely remember it for the rest of his life. She’d hidden nothing while their mouths were touching. She’d been scared, surprised, turned on, and scared again. He could relate. And while he had no idea if he could offer this woman enough to make her happy, he wasn’t letting Piper classify him as a casual hookup. Because what she made him feel wasn’t casual. Not one bit.

“You know I love it, Piper. You look beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed at the compliment. “And you’re not wearing your beanie.” She reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, her nails lightly grazing his scalp. “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding all of this from me.”

Christ. He was in danger of swallowing his tongue again.

It wasn’t just that he hadn’t been touched by a woman in seven years. It was that this woman was the one doing the touching. “There’s a chill in the air. Do you have a jacket or do you want to borrow mine?”

Hannah appeared behind her sister in the doorway, headphones looped around her neck. She dropped a black sweater over Piper’s shoulders and sniffed. “Have her home at a reasonable hour, please.”

Brendan shook his head at the younger one and offered his hand to Piper. “Not much choice. We leave for Alaska in the morning.”

Hannah hummed for a second, singing a song under her breath about the bottom of the deep blue sea, but he didn’t recognize it. Seemingly caught up in the words, Hannah patted her sister on the shoulder and closed the door.

Sliding her hand into Brendan’s, Piper made an amused sound. “She’s probably already making you a sailing-themed playlist for the trip. She can’t help herself.”

“If we’re not setting traps or pulling them up, we’re trying to get a few hours of sleep. Not a lot of time for listening to music.” He cleared his throat. “I won’t tell her that, though.”

He opened the front door, and Piper smiled at him as she passed through. There were a few customers waiting outside the Red Buoy across the street. When they saw him helping Piper into his truck—and sure enough, she was wearing those ice-pick heels again—they elbowed each other, one of them even running inside to relay the gossip. He’d been prepared for a reaction. Didn’t mind it at all, especially with him going out of town for two weeks. Right or wrong, it would ease his mind if the town knew she was spoken for.

Even if Piper wasn’t aware of it yet.

They drove the three minutes to Brendan’s house, and he pulled into the driveway, coming around the front bumper to help her out. He didn’t have a hope in hell of keeping his eyes off her legs when she turned all ladylike in the seat, using his shoulders for balance as she descended from the passenger side of his truck.

“Thank you,” she whispered, running a finger down the center of his chest. “Such a gentleman.”

“That’s right.” He tipped her chin up. “That’s exactly what I’m going to be, Piper.”

Her bravado slipped a little. “I guess we’ll see about that.”

“I guess we will.”

She took her chin out of his hand and strutted up the walkway, which was just playing dirty. The clingy green material of her dress stretched and shifted over her ass, immediately making him question whether being a gentleman was overrated.

Yeah, he wanted to take her to bed more than he could remember wanting anything. Every muscle in his body was strung tight at the sight of her gorgeous legs in the darkness outside his front door. But he couldn’t shake the intuition that going too fast with Piper would be a mistake. Maybe she even wanted him to give in, just so she could put him in a box labeled Fling.

Worst part of it was . . . maybe he was only fling material for her. Tonight, she looked more suited to gliding around a Hollywood mansion than eating a homemade meal at his bachelor pad. He might be delusional trying to shoot his shot. If she was determined to go back to LA, there was no way he could stop her. But something inside him, some intuition, wouldn’t allow him to give Piper anything but his best effort.