He's So Fine by Jill Shalvis Read Free Book Online Page A

glorious view and made her feel like…herself, just a woman who owned a vintage shop and lived as simply as she could here in sweet, quirky Lucky Harbor.
    Olivia entered the building and stopped in the hallway at her front door. She occupied the middle unit. No one lived in the far right one. Her neighbor on the left was Becca Thorpe, soon to be Becca Brody, once sexy boatbuilder Sam Brody got her down the aisle.
    “Not the sharpest tool in the shed today,” she said to herself. Because she hadn’t hidden a key in case of idiocy—such as losing her keys rescuing a hot guy who didn’t need rescuing. She sighed loudly.
    A woman peeked out from the third and supposedly empty apartment. She was in yoga pants and a large sweatshirt, covered in dust from her strawberry-blond hair, which was piled on top of her head—although much of it had escaped its confines—to her battered tennis shoes. “Excuse me,” she said to Olivia, “but are you talking to me?”
    “No,” Olivia said. “I’m talking to myself.”
    The woman smiled. “Gotcha. Carry on. Oh, and I’m Callie Sharpe. I’m moving in this weekend and just checking the place out. The walls are pretty thin.”
    “No insulation,” Olivia said.
    “Well then, I’ll try to keep the wild parties to a minimum. You going to tell me your name, or should we just stick with Not the Sharpest Tool in the Shed?”
    “Olivia.” She didn’t give a last name. She didn’t like new people. Hell, she barely liked old people.
    “Nice to meet you, Olivia,” Callie said, and like a good neighbor, she vanished back inside without asking a bunch of questions.
    Huh. Maybe Olivia would like her after all. She looked at her front door. Still locked. She eyeballed Becca’s door, blew out a breath, and headed over there, knocking softly.
    God, she really hated needing help.
    Becca didn’t answer at first and Olivia was debating her options—either go around to the back and break in through one of her windows or walk into town in Cole’s big-ass shoes and break into her store—when Becca opened her front door.
    She wore a man’s T-shirt that said LUCKY HARBOR CHARTERS on one breast and, near as Olivia could tell, little else except a dreamy smile.
    Dollars to doughnuts it was Sam’s T-shirt. No doubt he’d been in Becca’s bed directly before he’d arrived at the boat and was solely responsible for her dreamy smile, her mussed hair, and the whisker burns along her throat.
    It wasn’t envy that shot through Olivia, or so she told herself. But it was sure hard not to be at least a little wistful.
    It’d been a damn long time since she’d had whisker burns.
    “Hey,” Becca said, and rubbed the heel of her hand over an eye as if trying to wake up. “You okay?”
    Becca was a jingle writer, the local music teacher, and the only person Olivia knew who was newer to Lucky Harbor than herself. Becca was sweet and kind and unassuming, and at first Olivia had been suspicious of her because she didn’t think anyone could really be so nice.
    That was the city rat in her.
    And the bitch.
    But Becca had proven to be genuine, and they’d become friends as Becca had acclimated to Lucky Harbor. And yeah, acclimation was required. It was hard to believe a place with cozy, inviting Victorian architecture and a majestic mountain backdrop—a town that resembled a postcard picture—could actually exist.
    But so far, it was living up to the promise. “I lost my key,” Olivia admitted reluctantly. “Any ideas?”
    “I’m a pretty good lock picker,” Becca said. “Let me go get my tools.”
    Olivia was impressed. “You’ve got lock picking tools?”
    “Bobby pins. Give me a sec, I also need something else.”
    “What?”
    Becca blushed and tugged on the hem of the tee. “Panties,” she whispered.
    “Yeah, well, feel free to add a pair of pants to go with,” Olivia called after her.
    Two minutes later, Becca was back and they were standing at Olivia’s door. Tongue between