After a long, restless night, Holt Brennon was more confused than ever—not to mention hot as hell. Sitting up in bed and looking at the clock, Holt realized he might as well get on with his day. Even if it was only 5:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning.

Had he ever had a woman make him want her so bad? He didn't think so, but then again, he'd never met a woman like Samantha Jenkins.

She was the type of woman that made a man want to strangle her one minute and lay her down on cool satin sheets making her squirm the next. He was sure he could make the latter happen if she'd only give him a chance. Just as he was equally sure that if she didn't talk over what was really going on between them—and soon—he'd be tempted to do the former.

Shifting from the bed to the floor, Holt began his morning sit-ups. With the first whoosh of breath, he began getting worked up all over again. He'd just wanted to give back her license and clear up the little matter of the seventeen unpaid tickets. She was the one that started the little foreplay session. Was it his fault if he'd accepted her challenge and decided to take it a step further? He knew the electricity he felt wasn't just one sided.

So, becoming angry over her games was only natural, right? After all, he was a man wasn't he? Not liking the answers that argumentative question provoked, Holt shook off the guilt he was beginning to feel and finished his exercises.

As he stretched, he concluded that maybe he shouldn't have let his anger show. It was his own fault he hadn't been expecting the games. Problem was, she really didn't seem the type to tease and act coy. From the beginning, she'd intrigued him, made him burn and jumbled up his thoughts with a mere glance. So by the time she'd decided to face him, his temper had cooled down significantly. He'd realized that changing her mind was her right. And maybe she hadn't been playing games at all. Maybe he was reading her intentions wrong.

Those soothing thoughts made him realize his anger wasn't directed so much at her—but himself. The rationalization had also allowed him to accept that she was tired. He'd seen it in her eyes and her telling yawn only emphasized her fatigue. So, they'd parted and he'd promised himself their much-needed conversation would come today.

Which would be easier if he'd gotten any sleep himself. But after arriving home, taking a cold shower—which hadn't worked to assuage his raging hormones—he attempted to sweat out his frustration. However, lifting weights and running from one end of the town to the other—three times—hadn't worked either. Nothing seemed to curb his need for this woman. And even being exhausted hadn't kept her from going to bed with him—in his dreams.

That's why this morning, the truth that it might not just be simple attraction at all had him feeling frustrated again. The thought that he might need to spend more than one night with her to get these impossible feelings of lust out of his system, twisted his gut. He wasn't up to long-term commitments. He'd learned his lesson on that score.

Trying to put his life back in order after the tilt-a-whirl day he'd had yesterday, he headed for the shower. What a mistake! His brain protested as erotic images of her arose out of the steam. The powerful feelings assaulting him caused him to close his eyes tightly.

Again, he realized his mistake.

The darkness under his lids only caused the images to become more vivid. He could clearly see her running around her office half dressed in that all-too-short, all-too-tight sports top and matching shorts. Both pieces of skimpy material hugged her body and emphasized every womanly curve she had.

He had to wonder why she was dressed like that. Had she known he was coming and only wanted to torment him?

And that's just what seeing her sleek, sculpted shoulders, her perky breasts, her tiny waist, her slightly rounded hips, and those long silky-smooth legs did to him. Groaning, Holt quickly turned the water from mildly warm to ice cold, and opened his eyes. Breathing deep and cautiously, he began reciting the local ordinances. He had to find something, anything to get her off his mind long enough for him to regain his much needed composure. He couldn't very well go around town fully aroused in his gym shorts. Which was exactly what he was putting on after his shower. He needed to run. Stick to his routine. Sweat out these teenage-like urges.

After finishing his shower and regaining some semblance of restraint over his traitorous body, Holt quickly dressed and headed out for his run. As an incentive to focus, he decided to reward himself afterward with a nice breakfast at Pop's Place. As always, the thought of food made him smile. After all, he was only a man.

~~~~~~

Stopping in for breakfast at the diner hadn't been such a bad idea, Samantha thought as she looked up at her companion. He really was a handsome man. At a bit over six feet tall, with strawberry blond hair, gorgeous green eyes and an athletic, swimmer's build she could easily see why women would flock to him. That thought made her smile. He was definitely what some would term a 'player.' But she knew the truth, he was just searching for something solid to hold onto and he just hadn't found that yet. At that thought, a frown began to mar her features because the implications of his reasoning hit a little too close to home. Shaking off the unwanted thoughts, she beamed up at her companion.

"What has you in such a chipper mood?" he asked in his best southern drawl as he came up beside her to slip an arm around her shoulders.

"Just thinking of you darlin'." She replied mimicking his accent.

Laughing, they entered the restaurant and all eyes turned their way. But everyone knew them and so all quickly returned to the normal chaos of a Saturday morning at Pop's Place. Since the restaurant was a seat yourself-kind-of-place, they headed toward a back booth. One they had enjoyed there many a summer afternoon while waiting on 'Doc' to finish up at the office. Sliding into one side as they had always done, they shared a menu.

Samantha smiled at their waitress, Mary Beth Whitley before saying, "Morning." Mary Beth had always been extremely nice to her whenever she'd stayed with her grandparents for the summer. It felt a bit weird that when she'd gone off to college and then medical school, Mary Beth had been a waitress here and she still was. They were the same age and Mary Beth was quite a beauty. Why she hadn't done something else with her life was a mystery to Sam.

"Take your order?" Mary Beth asked with a strained smiled. If Sam didn't know better, she would have said there was a trace of ice in those sky colored eyes. Josh ordered for both of them which only seemed to add to the tension Mary Beth was exuding. The tightness of Mary Beth's mouth only emphasized there was something she didn't like going on. Sam remembered her friend's facial expressions well. She hadn't ever been able to hide her feelings from Sam. Nor had she ever wanted to, but now something was different.

Was Mary Beth jealous? The thought popped into Sam's head and made her wonder. Of her and Josh? No way! She knew Josh didn't think of her that way, nor her him. They were friends, close friends, but nothing more.

"Be right back with your drinks." Mary Beth said through clenched teeth as she abruptly turned on her heels and headed back behind the food counter. The clear animosity only intensified Sam's curiosity. Mary Beth sure wasn't as friendly as she used to be. At least not to her. Then again, this was the first time she'd been in the diner since returning and that could have been misinterpreted. Either way, she made a mental note to try and rekindle what little friendship they had developed in their youth.

Glancing quickly at Josh to see if he sensed a change in Mary Beth—because she thought they'd been friends too—Sam was disappointed to find him still closely examining the new menus. She knew with his job in advertising he'd pay close attention to any new logos or gimmicks he found. Even being back in small town America wouldn't shake the habit. Especially since Pop's menu had changed since their youth.

Turning her attention back to Mary Beth, Sam's eyes caught with hers and the intensity of yearning seen there stole her breath. If she wasn't mistaken, Mary Beth had been staring directly at Josh. After keeping eye contact for a few seconds, Sam felt uncomfortable and turned her attention back to her table and the reason she was there.

Josh.

He'd shown up late last night and crashed on her couch. She wasn't sure why, but she was determined to find out.

~~~~~~

That's how Holt found them. Sitting together, side-by-side in the back booth of the diner with their heads close together. At first sight, they appeared to be a couple. In love. And that first sight was enough to cause his appetite to vanish. He didn't want to analyze his feelings, nor did he want to rationalize how, not even a full twenty-four hours after meeting a woman for the first time, he could have this crush of possessiveness toward her. It took all of what little control he had to keep himself from stalking over and jerking them apart.

"Hey sugar. What can I get you?" Mary Beth Whitley asked shaking him from his thoughts.

Not willing to analyze the gleam of appreciation clear in Mary Beth's blue eyes, Holt tried to reply without snapping her head off, "Nothing. Sorry." If he wasn't mistaken, this woman had set her sights on how she would get him into bed and his snapping could help dissuade her future advances. After all, she was a beautiful woman but one that just didn't make his blood boil like Samantha. And if he was wrong and she was just being sweet to him, he'd feel like an ass later for being rude.

Holt left, unaware that Mary Beth watched his exit with growing interest. Not that she didn't think it was the most spectacular view around, aside from Josh, that is, but she was more interested in just how far this bit of news would take her.

Could she persuade him to help her get what she wanted in exchange for her help with Miss Samantha?