“May I get some ketchup?” another gentleman asked.

Whitney bent down behind the bar to grab it—

“I’m starting to think uniforms should be mandatory,” drawled a sexy voice.

She knew who it was without having to look. No way was this happening again. She rose and handed the ketchup to the patron, and saw that the last available stool in the far corner was now supporting a familiar, sexy contractor.

“Excuse me?” She walked toward Ryder.

He placed his forearms on the bar and looked her up and down. A look like that could melt a stronger woman than her, because yeah…she was melting a little.

“I think my sister should require uniforms to work here,” he repeated, his gray eyes pausing on her shorts. “Maybe pants. And a turtleneck.”

“Why is that?”

“Because, sweetness, you’re distracting as hell.”

The way he slid those words out made her want to catch them, keep them in her pocket, and pull them out whenever she was feeling down. A single bit of praise from Ryder Diamond was just golden.

“No one said you have to look.” She pulled the rag out of her belt loop and wiped off the counter in front of him.

“That’s my dilemma,” he said. “I can’t not notice you.” He glanced around. “Just like every man in here can’t not notice you.”

That got her heart to stall. “Why Ryder Diamond, are you hitting on me?”

“No, ma’am.” He sat back. “Just came in for dinner and a beer. Thought I’d be neighborly to the city girl.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m glad you met your neighborly quota for the day.” She grabbed a beer, popped the top, and slid it to him.

“How did you know what I liked?” he asked, examining the bottle.

“Because it’s what you drank the other night. I, too, have a good memory.”

Before she walked away, he said, “I’m still waiting for that chat, sweetness.”

She spun back around and frowned. “Didn’t we just chat?”

He took a drink from his longneck and shrugged. “I was thinking maybe over coffee sometime.”

Now she was really confused. “I’m sorry…what?”

“Coffee,” he said plainly. “I could pick you up.”

She put a hand on her hip and stared at him. “Like a date?”

He tilted his beer slightly in his hand, as though gauging its weight. “Kind of. I thought it would be nice.”

“Nice?” She had to repeat his words. This was bizarre. “I’m not sure I’m following you here. We had one night. It’s done now.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But coffee has nothing to do with sex. I thought it would be—”

“Polite?”

When he didn’t say anything, reality hit her. Holy crap, Ryder Diamond was trying to be polite? All those good manners everyone talked about were in full gear. Was this how he treated every obstacle in his life? He’d said he’d never had a one-night stand before. So was this him trying to make it right or something?

“We agreed on one night,” she said again.

“No, we were both under the impression that we only had one night.”

“So you want another night?”

“I want to take you to coffee.”

“Because that would make you a gentleman?”

He let out a long breath. “Jesus, why are you being so stubborn?”

“Because you’ve got this backwards, big guy,” she said with sarcasm. “Typically, you take a woman out, then have sex with her. Guess what, I already gave it up. You don’t have to date me now.”

Something dark flickered behind his eyes. “I’m trying to—”

“Oh, I know what you’re trying to do. But I don’t need you to make me feel like a lady, and I don’t want you to take me on some weird coffee pity date just so your impeccable conscience can be cleared of a one-night stand. Because I’m not sorry, and I’m not ashamed.”

“I’m not sorry or ashamed, either.” He leaned in. “You’re here for the summer now. I’m going to be seeing you, and I need to establish boundaries. Perhaps we can even be friends.”

Her eyebrows peaked. He wasn’t looking to get into her pants again. He was looking to maintain a platonic distance.

“Boundaries, huh?”

He nodded.

“Well if that’s what you want…” She sighed, then took another step toward him.

His eyes snatched up her movements so acutely, it felt like he’d touched her. And that idea made her shiver with happiness. Just like the other night when he looked at her with that same lusty expression.

“One question,” she said.

“Shoot.”

“You want to be friends, have boundaries. That means you’re not looking to see me naked again, correct?”

He dropped his chin and took a deep breath but kept those steely gray eyes on her. “Correct,” he ground out.

“Uh-huh.” She took another slow, slow step, swaying her hips just a tad. “So you want my clothes to stay on, correct?”

Another long inhale. “Correct.”

She nodded and made a slight downward turn of her mouth, pretending to ponder.

“All right. All of this would add up, except for the way you’re looking at me.”

He frowned. “How is that?”

She dished out her own sinful look, with all the heat she felt behind it, and said, “Like you want to eat me up right now.”

His jaw clenched, as if he were thinking just that. Whitney wasn’t in the business of chasing things that weren’t meant to be caught. She was in the business of experiencing the best life had to offer. Right now, she was in Diamond, with Mr. Diamond. And she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that experiencing him was one of the best things Diamond had offered her so far.

But he wanted boundaries. Why? Did he think she would get attached? Turn into some swoony girl that would latch onto him now that she was in his way? She needed to find out. Normally she wouldn’t care about getting to know a guy, but it was so much fun pushing Ryder’s buttons and seeing him give up his secrets.

For example, take what he was doing right now. Pursing his lips, doing his damnedest to stay closed off.

“While you sit there and keep telling yourself that you’re not interested in me, I’ll be right over here, minding my own business, and calling bullshit on you,” she said with a happy smile.

Ryder wanted to play a game of avoidance? She could play, too. And she’d call his bluff. He wanted her. She could see it in his eyes, and damn her stupid body, she wanted him in return. But she wasn’t about to let him get the impression that she wanted more or needed some kind of polite conversation about rules and distance. He could have his distance. She’d just be doing her thing from afar. If that happened to test his control…so be it. It was all fun in the end.

“So, are we going out for coffee?” he asked. “Just a friendly cup between two neighbors.”

“No, thanks,” she said. “But let me know if you want another night.”

“Whitney…” he rasped as she started to strut away. “What kind of game are you playing?”

“I’m not the one playing games. Unlike you, I’m being honest.”

“So am I.”

“Great! Then we understand each other.”

“Not really,” he said.

She turned back to him, leaned over the bar, and absently ran two fingers along the neck of his beer. “I’m onto you, Mr. Diamond. You have impulse issues.”

Wow, he smelled good. All man, and an outdoorsy, woodsy scent that had her hormones jumping for a taste.

“I control my impulses just fine,” he countered.

“Yes, that’s right. You especially controlled those impulses when you were bench-pressing me over you the other night.

“And if I recall…” He did his own little lean and brought his face in line with hers, putting his firm mouth within licking distance. “My reward was your tight, hot pussy as I moved you up and down. Best damn workout of my life.”

It took everything she had not to moan and tremble at the recollection. “Ah, so you do remember.”

“I may have given in the other night, but that’s what I’m trying to rectify from here on out.”