The knock came late in the morning. Isla had just gotten out of the shower and thrown on the first thing she could find—frayed denim shorts, a loose gray tank top, and no bra. She was still towel-drying her hair when she heard it.

When she opened the door, her breath caught.

Liam stood there, a cocky half-smile on his face and a tool bag slung over one shoulder.

“Forgot to give this back last night.” He held up a book—some random thriller her book club had recommended ages ...