Emma was fine. More than that, she was free with capital F - and just in time for the last summer vacation without responsibilities. She didn't need her unreliable boyfriend to have a good time because Emma had friends that she could count on. Speaking of friends, why were her calls to them going unanswered?

She tried again, tapping her finger nervously against the steering wheel. Emma was always early as her friends liked to point out so she made herself stay in her car for a few more minutes before going inside the beach house. Her anxiety had spiked when she pulled in the parking lot and couldn't see any other cars, but she quickly told herself not to panic. After all, this weeklong summer vacation was their tradition for years and there was no possibility they wouldn't show up. Right?

On the final ring, just as Emma prepared to attack her nail with her teeth, Drake answered. Music spilled into her ear, making Emma pull the phone back to lower the volume before greeting her oldest friend.

'...Hello?' Drake sounded impatient as if he didn't check who the caller was.

'Hi!' Emma's voice was pitched so high, she cringed. 'It's me, Em. Where are you guys?'

'Emma? What's up?' His tone was a bit warmer now and thankfully he stepped away from the loud music.

'I'm at the house,' she said, frowning at her rearview mirror, now filled with the lights of another car coming in the driveway.

There was a pause on the line when Drake closed a door that muted some of the music. Her heart jolted in her chest when she didn't recognize the man that got out of the car. Tall, broad, salt and pepper hair and stubble, he looked like one of those annoying men who could make your panties wet even after they reached forty.

'What do you mean, at the house? Jason said you weren't coming this year,' Drake explained in a degree of annoyed confusion that normally seemed endearing.

She shifted in her seat from both the heat pulling in her lower belly and the mention of Jason. Ignoring the first, she focused on the former. How could her ex-boyfriend that just 24 hours ago broke up with her via text, managed to ruin her night yet again? She made a mental note to look up the legality of suing one's ex for interfering in one's life.

'But,' she protested weakly, 'it's tradition we come to the Sandy Cove beach house, Drake!'

She wanted to use this time to let her friends know that she got that job in Paris and that she'll be moving there in two weeks. She wanted that last hurrah to echo in her heart as she traveled thousands of miles away from what she knew. And now all that was ruined because one time, three months ago, she thought Jason was cute.

'Shit, Em. I'm sorry, but Jason called everyone up to tell us that he'd take you somewhere special this week. He said it like it was a big surprise and that's why we didn't tell you.'

Her molars were grinding with all the curses she wished she directed at the man that quickly became Satan's spawn.

The stranger was pulling up a duffle bag from the backseat, draping it on one strong shoulder. Even in her distraught state she couldn't miss the ropes of muscle bulging out of the man's clothes. As she looked now at him, she felt a new kind of fire kindled in her core, demanding attention. She tried to dismiss it as being a syndrome of long-time-no-orgasm disorder.

Dragging her eyes from the mirror, Emma focused on the private beach that stretched in front of the house. Her head was spinning with a heartache at the prospect of driving back home to her empty apartment.

'The only thing he had planned out for me this weekend was a virtual break-up,' she sighed and dropped her head back in the headrest, closing her eyes.

'That fucker,' Drake said in a rough tone. 'I rented out the place to someone because I thought we couldn't hang out this week.'

She pinched the bridge of her nose as she let Drake's words sink in. She was boyfriend-less, friendless and in a place that had no room for her. Her life was a construction site that didn't inspire the stability she craved.

'He just arrived,' Emma murmured in a raspy tone, catching the man looking at her through the passenger window.

They locked eyes for a long heartbeat. His eyes were the same shade of blue the sky gets at the magic hour and it made something melt inside Emma's chest. The features on him were like a rough diamond: entirely too blunt to be considered beautiful. He was big, buff and broody, looking at Emma with an intensity that made her nipples harden. He looked at her like he owned her.

'Shit,' Drake cursed in her ear, but she barely heard it above the sound of her own heart racing. 'I'll check if there's any available rooms in the area -'

'It's alright,' she insisted. Her hand moved to the window control and lowered it a bit. 'You know this is the busiest time. I'll just head back.'

The man frowned, looking from Emma's face to her t-shirt that read - in sequin letters, no less - I GOT IN, BABY. She looked down too, feeling especially dumb to be wearing this announcement like neon light pointing to her silliness. The man glanced behind him at the house.

'Em, I'm so sorry. I -' he continued to apologize and curse Jason to hell and beyond.

'It was a misunderstanding, that's all. It's okay,' she reassured honestly. She was mad at herself most for not telling her friends how important this getaway was for her, for not getting the farewell she needed to build up her strength for the change that was to come.

With the promise to call as soon as she got home, Emma hung up and turned the key in the ignition.

'Hey,' the deep voice called through the open window. 'Did we get double booked?'

Emma rolled her lips between her teeth and shook her head. His voice did strange things to her and she felt too tired to fight them off.

'Don't worry about it,' she offered what she hoped to be a I'm-totally-fine smile.

It must have come off completely wrong because the man did a double take at her and the overstuffed backpack on the passenger seat. His hands crossed in front of him before he spoke again, those brilliant eyes unyieldingly holding hers.

'There was an accident just a few miles north - a truck flipped over with a ton of logs.'

Emma blinked from his mouth – which she was totally not ogling – and tried to hear the actual words he spoke. There was only one central road out of this small town and if it was blocked, she'd have hours added to her already long journey home. This was the icing of the most unlucky cake in history.

'Fuck,' she murmured, deflating in her seat. 'This is really not my day.'

Or week. Or whatever the Friends theme song was like.

'Come in and I'll call the firefighter unit to see how long it would take to clear the road,' he offered in that deep, gravelly voice that made her skin feel too sensitive.

She was shaking her head before he even finished talking. She couldn't, could she? No, definitely not. After all those true crime series she'd seen, Emma knew that being alone with an unknown person twice – maybe even trice - her size meant certain death. And although she loved this house, Emma had no intention of hunting it for all eternity.

'You're right not to trust strangers,' he said earnestly, holding her gaze and correctly reading her thoughts. 'But you can call the owner to give you all my info and let him know where you are. You two sounded close so I'm guessing he's your friend. I'm sure he would look out for you.'

He was right. Drake was thorough in all things, especially when it came to his properties and the people he rented them to. Her friend wouldn't give the key to just anyone. So maybe the hot older guy wasn't an ax murder after all.

While that thought was mildly comforting, there remained the problem of her body's response to him. It never happened to her like this, lust slamming through her insides as if it was a trapped storm – she usually got these feelings after some time passed and she knew the person. That's why she never had any sort of successful one night stands – not for the lack of trying, mind you, she just couldn't go through with the actual deed with a total stranger. So why was she set aflame by this unknown man after just a few words exchanged?

Shame flooded her cheeks and made her look away. The clock on board showed it was past nine o'clock, the sky already drawing in some of the darker colors of the night, making the sea shimmer with hues of reds and violets. Emma took a breath and then another one, weighing her options. She could refuse politely and put her car in drive, taking on the long journey back home or...she could potentially trust this stranger that was vetted by her trusted friend and accept his help to avoid the mess on the road.

It should have not been that hard to answer, Emma always looked for the best in people. But in this particular instance, she was apprehensive of the unreasonable amount of desire the man inspired in her. I can control myself, she thought to herself, it's not like I'm in heat. So what if he looks like a mountain man that has a velvet voice? I'm a good feminist and I can abstain for objectifying this Good Samaritan.

With that her mind was made. She offered him a grateful smile and typed a quick message to Drake. The man – she needed to stop referring to him like that, like he was the only man in the world - took a step back from her car and headed for the porch. She watched him stretch his muscular back reaching on the doorframe where the spare key was located. With a mental slap, Emma jumped out of her car and rounded it to get her luggage.

A message from her friend pinged in her hand. He let her know that his guest was a forty-five year old ex-fireman with a squeaky clean background. The last thing she read was his name: Malcolm Cox.

'Malcolm,' she whispered, tasting the name in her mouth. It fit him perfectly, just like the voice and the way he carried himself. She liked it more than she should have and was rightfully ashamed of it.

Emma's mind uncharacteristically jumped straight to bedroom activities, where she and Malcolm were tangled together, sweaty and moaning, pushing each other on the edge of their building pleasure. Calm down, pervert! Think only neighborly thoughts when you reach the front door, he might have a wife for all that you know!

That thought did manage to sober her overheated mind. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the opened door of the house where he could hear Malcolm talking gruffly on his phone.