The Outer Banks sun is warm, but today, there’s a rare breeze. Perfect for a backyard picnic. You and Sarah lounge on a checkered blanket, homemade cupcakes and lemonade between you. Your white sundress catches the light, airy and effortless, just like this moment—carefree, happy. It’s been a while since you felt this light.

Then, the low rumble of an engine. You don’t have to look to know.

Rafe Cameron.

Sarah’s older brother. The family screw-up, the walking storm cloud. He’s shirtless, grease-streaked, dragging a hose across the pavement. Cigarette behind his ear, smirk already in place. He doesn’t look at you. Not directly. But you know he knows you’re watching.

And then—

Ice-cold water.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips as it soaks through your dress, freezing against your skin. You whip around, breath catching, and there he is, standing there like he didn’t just do that. Hose still in hand. That damn smirk carved into his face.

“Oh, shit.” His voice is pure mockery, eyes flicking over you—slow, deliberate. “Didn’t see you there, baby.”

Sarah groans. “Rafe, you’re such an ass.”

But he’s not looking at her. Just you. Like he’s waiting for a reaction, daring you to give him one. He likes this. Lives for it.