He laughed.

“What happens after that?”

“Ah.” He rubbed his chin. “I’d dare you to go skinny-dipping.”

“Makes sense.”

“After that, we’d screw on the beach. Sometimes that part was rushed. Depends how bad the bugs were.”

“Ouch”

“You’re telling me.” He gave me a quick grin before turning his gaze back to the road. “Hard to really enjoy things when mosquitos are making a meal of your ass.”

I snorted. “I can see how that would be difficult.”

“Hmm. Then I usually rushed to get the girl home before curfew. Sometimes helped her climb in a window or whatever.”

“Romantic.”

“I always thought so,” he mused, face cast in shadows. “Never got any complaints.”

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The world seemed empty, peaceful. There continued to be next to no traffic. We pulled into the bungalow’s driveway and Vaughan turned off the engine. For a moment we just sat in silence.

“Thing is, I’m not eighteen anymore.” He turned his head, watching me in the near dark as I watched him. “I want better for you. I can do better.”

Without another word, he opened his door, climbed out. I sat, watching him walk around to open the passenger side door, and offer me a hand. Guess chivalry wasn’t dead.

“Thank you.” I climbed out, taking my bag with me. The large envelope Betsy had delivered still hadn’t been opened. Some jobs needed time and space. I got the distinct feeling reading over the settlement from the Delaneys would be one of those.

Instead of letting go of my hand, he led me across the lawn and up the front steps. To think only three days ago I’d stood here, listening to Samantha call me every name under the sun while Ray talked to his lawyer on the phone. Amazing how fast things could change. The last few days Vaughan had been busy, cutting the grass and beating the overgrown front garden back into submission, getting the place ready for sale. Under the moonlight everything appeared even lovelier, every edge softened, the old house was a thing of magic. A lover’s delight.

Keys jangled, then the front door opened and inside we went. He didn’t turn on any lights. The door closed and he pressed me back against it, the smile at his lips only just visible. “I know you asked me on a date, but do you mind if maybe I take over?”

“Depends. What did you have in mind?”

“You got to know?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Control freak.” He laughed softly, relieving me of my handbag and lowering it onto the floor.

“I gave up control to Chris. It didn’t work out so well.”

“I know.” He exhaled hard. “But I am not that piece of shit. I’d never deliberately do anything to hurt or humiliate you.”

My fingers flexed, tightening my hold on both his hands. A dead giveaway for the rush of emotions surging through me, from the intensity of his words, the sincerity in his eyes. Fear, lust, and everything in between filled me to flooding.

I tried to calm myself. Casual sex with a friend, nothing more, nothing less. Just scratching an itch.

Yeah. Right.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes. I just…” I licked my lips. “I’m fine.”

He said nothing.

It’d been months since Chris had attempted any real touching and it had not ended well for anyone. Sex before him had been one long-term boyfriend in college (who got a job in Greenland after graduation) followed by many hookups. Some yay, some blah. Much the same as everyone else, I’d imagine. This was just one more. No big loved-up joining of private parts requiring poetry, mood lighting, and classical music. Declarations of commitment not required. Fun sex. The end.

“We can always do this another time,” he said, drawing back a little. “That was a long day, I—”

“No,” I blurted out, not sounding desperate at all.

“No? You sure?”

I released his hands, grabbing hold of his T-shirt, holding on as if my life was at stake. Or at least my sex life. He was mine, for the moment, and I wasn’t giving that up.

“Babe?”

“I want you.”

“I want you too,” he said, groaning as I pressed myself against him. He felt so good, strong and sturdy. Also, the man smelled fucking great.

If only I could imprint myself in his skin, hide away in his arms for a good long time until things felt safe again. Instead, I flattened my breasts against his chest, wrapped my arms around his neck, getting as close as I could. Stubble gently scratched my face and fingers dug into my ass, holding me closer, encouraging me further.




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