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me find it , she prayed silently. Justin Timberlake grinned at her from a poster on the wall, and she sighed, exasperated. Clothes, shoes, assorted school supplies and hair accessories littered the bed and floor. How did Layla find anything in this mess?
    She sorted through the shorts and t-shirts on the floor, grinning as she saw the bright pink item she was searching for. Clutching the treasure, she ran from Layla’s room to her own, slamming the door closed behind her.
    Smiling victoriously, s he held up the halter top. Layla would never even know. She would wear it while her sister was at cheerleading practice, and then she would return it to its spot on the floor.
    After slipping into the shirt, she wrinkled her nose with disappointment as she surveyed her reflection in a mirro r. Her hands pressed against the two spots where breasts should have been by now. She was 14, for crying out loud. When Layla wore this shirt, there were two distinct, rounded swells that Emma envied. She also didn’t have the smooth, tanned shoulders that her sister did, or arms toned to perfection from hours of cheerleading.
    But still, she thought, squaring her shoulders, this shirt is sexy . Which means if I wear it, I’m sexy . The thought lifted her spirits, and she went into the bathroom to steal some of Layla’s eye shadow, blush and lipstick. Her mother wouldn’t let Emma wear makeup until she started high school, which was only two weeks away.
    She studied the frosty pink shade of her lips as she worked on her hair. She liked it so much she added another thick layer, making it look even brighter.
    By the time she finished, Emma didn’t recognize herself. Mission accomplished. With her bare shoulders, bright makeup and thick, frizzy side ponytail, she felt like the headline in the fashion magazine that had inspired her look: Flirty fun in the sun!
    Emma Carson had never been flirty before. Now that she was, Cole Marlowe was bound to take notice. The hum of the lawn mower’s engine reminded her that he was in her back yard now. She’d wanted to hug her father when he hired Cole to mow again this summer. Now that he was 17, he wasn’t home much, and this guaranteed she’d see him once a week all summer.
    She strode confidently out the sliding glass doors tha t led to the deck, slipping into a white chaise lounge. Geez, it was hot . The makeup on her face broke out in its own layer of sweat.
    Be cool , she reminded herself, reclining in the chair. She closed her eyes, buzzing with anticipation as the roar of the lawn mower grew closer. He would probably just stop mowing when he saw her, wondering who she was. When he approached, he’d be shocked that the babe he’d been admiring was actually Emma.
    Her glee eroded as the engine’s noise faded when Cole pushed the mower around to the front of the house. He probably just hadn’t seen her. She’d have to be patient, but it would be so worth it. She’d been waiting two years for Cole to look at her the way he looked at Layla.
    But when the roaring and fading of the engine had passed half a dozen times, Emma’s heart started to sink. The sun was scorching against her pale shoulders and sweat was pouring down her chest, soaking her unnecessary training bra. Cole wasn’t going to notice her.
    She’d take a cool shower and read her new book. An ice cream bar might be in order, too. Just as she rose to go inside, the sputter of the mower’s engine going quiet made her turn. She froze in midair as Cole approached. His bare chest glistened with moisture in the bright sun and the lines of muscles stood out on his arms. Emma didn’t think anything had ever looked so good.
    “Hey, Em ,” he said, grinning and swiping a hand across his forehead to wipe the sweat off. Emma wished she could touch his long, wet layers of thick, blond hair. Was that gross? She wasn’t sure she’d even tell Dani about that. Wanting to touch anyone’s sweaty hair seemed abnormal.
    “Hi, Cole,” she