She’d given up jeans in the first two days, then gave up skirts, and that was the end of her traditional teacher clothes. Her shorts were barely decent, her tee tissue thin, and if this relentless heat didn’t let up, she planned to walk around naked with no apology. She’d neglected to get her long hair lopped off, but that was only because she’d been too busy to check out the local salons.

Two blocks later, she paused at Griff’s place. Naturally, this early in the morning it was still locked up. She didn’t expect to see him. It just seemed to be a knee-jerk reaction-walk by the ice cream place, remember that kiss. Remember his sitting on the veranda, feeding her Griff’s Secret, making her think about other seductive secrets he might offer.

To the right woman.

Under the right circumstances.

He was a player, she reminded herself. A womanizer. An uncommitted, lazy, adorable scoundrel. There wasn’t a soul in the town who’d suggested anything else.

Truthfully, it was his lazy scoundrel persona that rang her bells. It had been so long since a man rang her bells that she couldn’t believe it. Somehow, though, she couldn’t manage to believe his reputation. Something was…off. He kissed like trouble. He looked at a woman like trouble. She didn’t doubt that he was trouble.

But a sixth sense still warned her that he was not what he seemed.

Like everything else in this town.

Another block later, she opened the door to the police station, which had become as familiar as Louella’s. The same Martinet Martha guarded the front counter, gave her the same two-second acknowledgment, then barked, “Chief, someone to see you!” at the top of her impressive vocal range, same as before.

And Herman Conner, after a few moments, clomped out of his office, hitching up his trousers, with the same refrain. “How many times do I havta tell you-” And then he spotted her. Sighed.