New and…Improved? & Andrew in Excess

stretching out in front of him, long and lonely, didn’t seem to hold the same appeal it used to. “I don’t want off the hook.”

Abruptly, Tiki stopped talking, and everyone stared at him.

Becca rose to her feet in one fluid move. Another few steps and she was at the door. “This is really my fault,” she said to him. “Don’t feel badly.”

“Wait!” he called to her as she turned to leave.

“I thought I knew what I wanted,” she said, clearly conscious of their audience as she kept her gaze down. “And it was all great, really great. Especially the makeover, which gave me the in with you. But it’s no longer enough, Kent. I’m sorry.”

Wait. Makeover? Did she really believe that had made any difference to him? “Becca-”

“No.” Her smile came straight from the gut, and it was so sad and wrenching, it nearly broke his heart. “Don’t say anything. Goodbye, Kent.” She closed the door behind her.

When she was gone, everyone turned to Kent, eyes wide and curious.

“Well, that meeting went well,” he said.

LAKE TRAFFIC WAS LIGHT, it took him only a few minutes to get to the salon.

Summer looked up from her client when he limped in. She gave the woman’s hair a gentle pat, whispered something, then came toward him with a welcoming smile.

No tight black dress today, but a snug skirt beneath a cropped top and an open denim jacket. Young chic. She was gorgeous, and by the confident way she sauntered over to him, Kent knew that she knew it.

“Dr. Dreamboat,” she said, laughing when he grimaced at the nickname. “What can I do for you? A manicure? Pedicure?”

“No,” he said, backing up a step, imagining himself tied to a chair and having his ticklish feet worked on. “Nothing for me. I came about Becca.”

Summer’s smile faded. “Is she okay? Hurt? Sick?”

“No.”

But something in his expression must have tipped her off. She took his arm and led him past her client, smiling at the woman and promising to be right back.

Her office was a cool, white, comfortable room made interesting with lush, green plants. She gestured him to a chair, and once he sat, she leaned back against a small, neat desk. “What’s the matter with Becca?” she asked.

“Me, mostly. But it’s also your makeover.”

“Excuse me?”

Kent rolled his shoulders. “It’s confusing, but she wanted this new adventurous life-style and she thought the new look could give it to her.”

Summer crossed her arms. “Don’t be silly. This makeover has been good for her. She’s even gone out on a date. She would never have done that before, she’d never have made the time for herself.”

While that was fascinating information Kent filed away for later, he couldn’t let this go. “Yes, she’s definitely come out of her shell. She’s on a mission for a good time.”

“So give her one.”

That he’d wanted to do exactly that didn’t escape him. “I’m off the hook apparently,” he said wryly, and at her narrowed brow, he shrugged. “Her words.”

“You idiot. What happened?” She sighed when he didn’t answer. “And here I thought you were so smart.”

“Are you going to help me here or not?”

“Why?”

“Why? What kind of question is that?”

“A good one,” she said evenly. “You care about her.”

“Yeah. So?”

“You also love her.”

As far as shock value went, it was a good one. He could feel his lungs constricting, closing off air. “I’ve got to go.” He was at the door, his throat tight, his heart pounding, when Summer stopped him.

“You know what I think, Dr. Dreamboat? I think you’re a big phony.” Her voice softened, filled with sympathy. “You’re far more involved here than you want to be, aren’t you?”

Well there was a news flash. “Look, are you in or not?”

She studied him, then smiled. “You can put away that dark, gorgeous scowl. I’m going to help your sorry hide, even if it means I have to resort to bribery.”

9

THE NEXT MORNING Becca literally had to drag herself out of bed. What she really wanted was to bury herself beneath her blankets.

But in the warm bed her problems were only magnified. Some good this makeover had done, she thought crossly as she showered, ignoring the blinking answering machine. She knew who the messages were from, but she wasn’t ready to hear what the tall, warm-eyed, far-too-sexy Kent had to say.

Fine. He was probably sorry.

So was she, because now she needed a new adventure when what she really wanted was him. Grabbing a bagel, she surveyed her closet. It was…empty?

Great. She’d forgotten to pick up her dry cleaning. Again. Glancing down at the sunshine yellow demi-bra and matching bikini panties she wore, she had to laugh. All the hot lingerie in the world wasn’t going to dress her suitably for work.

Tossing on old jeans and a T-shirt, grumbling about the waste of money for the silk and lace, when clearly she was going to go to her grave without ever experiencing an orgasm, she got into her car.

Ten minutes later, she came to a stop in the parking lot of the small dry cleaners and could only stare in shock.

A large hand-lettered sign in the window said “Electrical Problems. Closed Till Noon.”

“Everything I own is in there,” she muttered. Everything except her underwear, she reminded herself. There was always a silver lining. She still had the best lingerie in town.

With a sigh, she got out her cell phone and called Summer, begging her to meet her at the salon where she could pick out an outfit for the day.

Then she got back into her car and headed for Summer’s Place, which was locked. She sat on the steps to wait, but twenty minutes later, she looked at her watch and frowned.

Where was her sister? Without her, Becca was stuck going to work looking like…

“Well, there’s the Becca I know.”

At Kent’s husky and oh-so-familiar voice, Becca pulled her baseball cap closer around her ears and stared resolutely at the water.

“I was hoping you hadn’t tossed those jeans and that hat.”

She heard the smile in his voice and knew if she looked at him, his killer grin would melt her.

So she kept her eyes on the lake.

“Ah, you’re still upset with me.” Uninvited, he sat next to her. “That’s okay, I’d be upset with me, too. Anyway, I figure you’ll have to talk to me eventually.” His body brushed against hers. “Even if only to tell me what you think of me.”

“Oh, I have no problem telling you what I think of you,” she said. “You have a big mouth. You’re a chicken. And-”

He laughed a little, and her tummy tightened at the sound. “Yeah, I get the picture.”

Sighing, she turned and found him looking at her with such affection, her heart squeezed. He’d folded his long,