Chapter 8

Sam left his shirt in the Mustang, sporting toned, brown muscles in all the right places. Almost forty, the guy still looked good, with his pert nipples, hairless chest, and pack of eight abs.

Bay and Sam decided to sit inside the establishment, away from the party outside on the deck. They ordered calamari for two, Long Island Iced Teas, and low-calorie salads for lunch.

Seated across from each other, near the kitchen area, Bay asked, “How’s the Fireflycollection coming?”

Sam cleared his throat and nervously replied, “Fine. Okay. No problems. It’s coming along.” He picked up his Long Island and took a speedy sip.

Bay noticed the ice cubes clicking together inside the glass due to Sam’s right hand shaking. “You’re nervous. Why?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s going on. I’m fine.”