Tease Me Tonight
by Jules Court

Firefighter Will MacGregor is tired of being branded not-boyfriend material. It seems he’s been on the to-do-once list of every woman in Boston. So when a gorgeous blonde bumps into him at the bar, Will’s pretty sure he knows what comes next. Still, their instant connection tells him she could be the one.

Elizabeth Owen has played it safe for the past decade: raising her younger sister and working as an ER nurse. But with her thirtieth birthday looming and little sis off to college, she’s ready to let her freak flag fly. That hot guy drinking beer with the wicked grin looks like all kinds of fun. No commitment; no getting hurt.

Though Elizabeth rejects Will’s invitation of a date, it turns out she’s not averse to some racy sexting and wild making out. But as their brief encounters become progressively steamier, she starts to like what lies beneath Will’s gorgeous surface...a lot. And Will is more convinced than ever they’re meant to be together—for real.

This book is approximately 35,000 words

One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!

Carina Press acknowledges the editorial services of Mackenzie Walton

Dear Reader,

As book lovers, no matter how much we want our favorite stories to go on forever, we know that eventually they will come to an end. The same is sadly true of my monthly letter to you. While I know some of you do look forward to this letter, we’ve decided that we can no longer continue to include it for some practical reasons, which I don’t want to bore you with. So this will be my last letter to you all. But never fear, the good books will continue to come every month and that is what’s most important!

Still, I get one last chance to tell you all about the amazing books we have in store for you, and I’m going to take full advantage of the opportunity. Are you ready?

Powerhouse author duo Alexa Riley follows up their bestselling full-length novels Everything for Her and His Alone with a trilogy of spin-off novellas. First up, in Stay Close, a Russian bad boy will do whatever it takes to conquer her headstrong ways and make her his. And don’t miss the next two novellas, releasing later in 2017 and early in 2018, as well as their third full-length novel, Claimed, coming in spring 2018.

At Noble House, a first-of-its-kind hybrid fetish club that blends real life with the online, three lovers reunite to explore role play and high-tech toys as they battle demons from the past that could threaten their future. Sara Brookes’s Get Off Easy is only the first in her supercharged erotic romance series, Noble House Kink.

The male/male romance Ethan & Wyatt trilogy by K.A. Mitchell is now available in one volume in mass market print, audio and digital formats. Opposites attract and ignite on campus as optimistic, open-hearted and sometimes clueless Ethan meets Wyatt, who has plenty of reasons for hiding under his hoodie. Together they face a jealous ex, disapproving parents and the most dangerous test of all: real life together off campus.

Hot in the City author Jules Court is back with her third contemporary romance novella, Tease Me Tonight. Elizabeth Owens spent the last eight years as the responsible and celibate guardian of her little sister, but now Megan’s left the nest, and Elizabeth’s ready to let her wild side out with firefighter Will MacGregor. The only problem is Will wants a connection with Elizabeth that will last longer than one steamy night, and he knows if he gives in too soon to their attraction he’ll lose her. You can also pick up Hot in the City and Enticing the Enemy in digital, wherever Carina ebooks are sold.

In Betrayed by Blood, the second installment in Beth Dranoff’s romantic urban fantasy Mark of the Moon series, covert agent turned bartender Dana is drawn back to her Agency past by an offer she can’t refuse from a guy she never thought she’d see again. Lured by curiosity, and torn between freedom and restraint, Dana has to decide whether she’s ready to look to the future while leaving the scars of her past behind.

Romantic suspense author Katie Ruggle, writing as Katie Allen, joins Carina Press with the first of several erotic romance backlist releases leading up to her fall 2017 new erotic romance release. In her Research & Desire series, we’ll publish Erotic Experiments, Natural Selection, Carnal Chemistry and Double Dose in back-to-back months from July through October. Then look for book one of her new series in November 2017.

Ten years after he rejected her, the Seduction Squad’s newest recruit, Christie Mason, finally has the chance to get her revenge on Theo Ward, but there are some fantasies that are best left in the past and some taboos that should never be explored in Seduction Squad: Tainted by Amanda Stewart.

Robyn Bachar’s Contingency Plan is the next in her sci-fi romance series, The Galactic Cold War. Privateer pilot Lieutenant Jiang Chen searches for the location of a terrible superweapon, but when the mission threatens to reveal the dangerous secrets of her past, Jiang’s only ally is sexy chief of security Ryder Kalani, who is battling demons of his own. Start with book one, Relaunch Mission, today!

Fans of TV show The 100 will want to read Zaide Bishop’s Bones of Eden series. Releasing in three volumes in July and August, these continuing stories have it all, from forbidden love to war to a race for survival. First Fall comes out in early July, followed by Second Heart later in July and Third Wave in August.

That’s all for our dear reader letters, but please follow us on social media—Twitter or Facebook—or sign up for our reader newsletter to be kept informed about all our great reads in the future.

For one final time, fellow readers and book lovers, here’s wishing you a wonderful life of books you love, remember and recommend.

Happy reading!

~Angela James
Editorial Director, Carina Press

Dedication

For Michael.

Chapter One

Elizabeth Owens was on a mission: Operation Get a Life. And kicking it off with a bachelorette party should have been like storming the beach at Normandy. But this was more like being that guy who had to stay home and fill out the paperwork.

She’d thought she knew a little something about bachelorette parties. After all, she’d spent the majority of her last decade watching rom-coms, many of which featured a bachelorette party. Based on her extensive research, bachelorette parties were a guaranteed rocking time, which also served as the catalyst for learning important life lessons by the end of the crazy night.

When Cindy invited her out, even though they were only work friends, Elizabeth had jumped at the chance. But not just because she was overdue for a crazy night and a little personal clarity. She couldn’t take another evening in a house that echoed with silence now that Megan was gone. So after work she’d raced home, stripped off her scrubs, and wriggled into something tight and short exhumed from the depths of her closet. Slapping on an extra coat of mascara while singing “Bad Girls” by M.I.A., she’d told herself she was about to have an epic time. Like she used to have back in college. Before. And tonight would only be the beginning. The City of Boston was her new playground and she was ready to climb some monkey bars.

She looked around the table of assembled women and barely repressed a sigh. Staying home and watching reruns of Matlock would have been more epic. This wasn’t at all what Hollywood had led her to expect. Everyone was glued to their phones. That is, until one of them would arrange the straw in her drink, hold up her phone, and say, “Ready?”

It was like triggering a sleeper agent. But instead of knocking over the table in a rush to go kill the president, the others merely cocked their heads and pursed their lips for the Instagram pic before listlessly returning to their phones.

Elizabeth was feeling like the subject of a total bait and switch. She’d put on high heels for this, and not even the bride-to-be had the simple decency to dance on a table. Surely she wasn’t the only one who needed to have some fun?

“Who’s ready for another round?” she asked in a peppy voice. “Don’t speak, because I already know the answer—everybody!”

They looked at her like she had three heads. She refused to let her smile fizzle. They were going to have fun, damn it. “Okay. I’ll just head on over to the bar.”

She teetered in her unfamiliar footwear across the floor of the Thorny Rose to the scarred wooden bar. She wedged herself into the one inch of free space, accidentally bumping the man seated to her left. She automatically touched his shoulder where she’d hit him. It was pleasantly firm. She dropped her hand before she could give it a squeeze.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

He looked up at her with a smile. “Feel free to hit me anytime,” he said.

He was all the colors of autumn, from the red glints in his hair to the green of his eyes. The fall changed everything. When she was young, it meant a new school year, with new teachers, subjects, and friends. And then later, it had been fall when she received the phone call that changed the trajectory of her life. And now this fall Megan was gone. Exactly like she wanted, Elizabeth reminded herself, forcing down the pang of loneliness conjured up by that thought.

The cute guy was still smiling at her. His eyes crinkled at the corners, a sign it was genuine. “I will,” she said inanely.

“No, I’m Will,” he said. At her blank look he added, “That’s my name.”

Pull yourself together, woman. You used to be good at this. “I’m Elizabeth.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Elizabeth.” The way he said her name felt like a caress. He stood up, the action putting him right up against her thanks to the crowd clustered at the bar. She was at six feet with an assist from the heels and he was eye-level. She resisted the urge to look away from the sudden intimacy.

Instead, she angled her body slightly his way. “What kind of shots should I order? I’m trying to liven up a bachelorette party.” She jerked her thumb back toward the table of bored women.

“That’s not much of a bachelorette party.” He shook his head sadly. “Shouldn’t someone be wearing a tiara?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“At least get matching T-shirts made. Show some enthusiasm.”

“So you’re an expert on bachelorette parties?”

“Maybe I am. You shouldn’t make assumptions.”

God, it was fun to flirt. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger. Oops, a little too Sexy Baby. She dropped her hand. “Movies gave me the impression there were usually strippers involved.”

“There could be,” he said. “If you want to throw dollar bills and not touch me, I’m game.”

“But you’d need to be wearing a G-string.”

“How do you know I’m not? There you go with your assumptions again. Speaking of assumptions, it’s not your party, is it?”

“Hers.” She pointed at a texting Cindy. “I’m here to meet more single ladies.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Not like that. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I need single friends. All my friends are wifed up. And as much as I like their boyfriends or husbands, it would be nice to not be the fifth wheel for once.”

“You’re not looking for a boyfriend?”

“Oh, hell no.”

“Just out of a relationship?”

She folded her arms. “Not really.” She wasn’t about to empty her baggage, no matter how cute he was. Tonight was about mindless fun.

He put his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay,” he said. “Regardless, there’s only one way to save your night.”

“And what’s that?”

He gave her a teasing, challenging look. “Kamikaze shots. That is, if you can handle them.”

“So you think women can’t do shots?” she asked in mock outrage. She leaned over the bar and raised a hand to flag down the bartender.

“Not true. My sister can drink me, my brother, and our father under the table. But not my mom.”

“You have a lot of drinking contests in your family?”

“We didn’t have cable growing up.”

The bartender approached. “What can I get you?”

“Eight kamikaze shots, please,” she said.

“Make that ten,” Will said. “You’re having one.”

“That adds up to nine,” she said.

“I’m having one, too, which makes ten.”

“So, I’m buying you drinks now?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Vinnie, put this on my brother’s tab.” He looked back at her. “My brother’s going to marry a doctor, so he’ll be able to pay it back.”

Vinnie snorted. “Nice try, Will.” To Elizabeth he asked, “This for a bachelorette party?”

She nodded.

“Then this round’s on the house. But only this round and he—” he pointed at Will “—is paying for his own.”

Will put a hand over his heart. “That hurts. I thought we were friends.”

“Tell you what. Stick around past closing tonight. I’ve got a bottle of the good scotch I usually save for your brother behind the bar.”

“Deal,” Will said.

Vinnie started pulling bottles out and Will turned back to her. When he smiled at her, she felt a bit like a cat basking in the sunshine of his attention. He was a master at this flirting game.

“I hate to break it to you,” she said, “but doctors make crap these days unless they specialize. Source: I’m a nurse who knows doctors and hears them whine about their student loans and malpractice insurance policies. So, I wouldn’t be counting on your brother’s fiancée to be your meal ticket.”

“There goes my champagne and caviar dreams.”

“Prosecco’s the same thing for half the price tag and caviar is overrated,” she said while watching his mouth. His lips were perfect. Not too thin and not too full. Perfect for kissing. It had been so long since she’d kissed someone—not since college. The last guy she’d been with had worn a goatee and thought Fight Club was the best movie ever made. Will probably wouldn’t puke taquitos on her shoes after ripping two beer bongs either.

No, Will was just straight up nonstop sex that would be both hot and fun. And that was exactly what she needed.

* * *

Will MacGregor was a catch. Decent-looking, gainfully employed, and with an easy temper. Even his mom said he’d been a happy baby. Bonus, he was a champ in the sack—no way every woman he’d ever slept with had been faking it. So why did he keep waking up alone the morning after?

It was that freaking calendar. Nothing but meaningless hookups since he’d posed for it. Sleeping with him had become the equivalent of collecting a Pokémon. After a night with him, they’d go home, pick up a Sharpie and draw a giant X over his Mr. October picture. Only two left to collect the set! But he’d come up with a solution. No one got into his pants before the third date. He was more than just a hot piece of ass.

And recently he’d gotten a wake-up call about the utter capriciousness of the universe—how short our time on this little rock really was, how everything could end with one little combustible chemically combining with oxygen... He shook himself to keep his brain from wandering down that memory lane. Plus, he wasn’t about to get metaphysical on anyone’s ass, he just wanted something real.

Elizabeth, the tall blonde with the marathon legs and generous smile, was about to become the toughest challenge in his new wait-to-have-sex rule. No matter how fun it was to flirt, and how badly he wanted to kiss her, he wasn’t giving in to hormones tonight. Even though they were so close that all it would take was the slightest angle of his head and... He took a swallow of his beer.

Vinnie lined up the shot glasses and began pouring with a heavy hand. The Thorny Rose was only down the street from the firehouse, so the crew of Engine 8 were off-duty regulars. Probably much to the chagrin of the staff. Will made sure to tip extra well to make up for it. And, in the time-honored bartender tradition, Vinnie reciprocated by making the drinks strong.

“I’ll bring the shots to you,” Will said to Elizabeth. “Go join your friends.” He needed a second to pull himself together. He was in full-court press mode and he needed to take it down a notch or two, or three. He wanted to learn more about this woman than what she sounded like screaming his name.

“I can carry them.” She flexed a taut bicep. “I’m pretty strong.”

“You let me bring you the drinks and maybe later, I’ll let you bench-press me. How’s that sound?” That sounds like you’re propositioning her, you idiot. Keep it PG.

She gave him a heavy-lidded look that shot straight to his groin. “Like a deal.”

She walked away and his hands twitched for his sketchbook. There was something about the shape of her face, the way her brows arched over her eyes, the rounding of her chin that kept her face from becoming too angular and made him want to capture her on paper.

He let himself hope that this time it might be different. Maybe, just maybe, she was the one.

* * *

Elizabeth floated back into her seat. She could feel the goofy grin on her face but was powerless to remove it. When she sat down she was instantly assailed by eight sets of curious eyes.

“Who was that guy?” Cindy asked.

“He looks cute from over here,” Jenna added. “Is he cute?”

Marissa narrowed her eyes. “He kind of looks familiar.”

“Don’t stare,” Cindy said.

“He’s coming over here, so you can all check him out,” Elizabeth said. “And he’s bringing shots.” She casually looked around the bar, pretending that she hadn’t been staring at Will, waiting for him to come back to her like she was an eager puppy. He was only a guy she’d just met—someone to practice her rusty flirting skills on.

She inadvertently caught the eye of a cute, preppy-type dude at a neighboring table. He smiled at her and gave a casual salute with his beer bottle. It would be a simple thing to just smile back. It would be enough encouragement for him to come over. Hooking up was a numbers game and a table of nine women was just good math. He’d probably bring his friends—more guys to practice on.

She quickly looked away.

Will approached carrying a tray laden with filled shot glasses. He moved as good as he looked, nimbly balancing the tray while weaving through the crowd. “Ladies,” he said, placing the tray down on the table. His loose body posture suggested he wasn’t at all shy approaching a table full of women.

Definitely a player. Good thing she was ready to play. No pain, no loss, no grief, no feelings except pleasure.

He snagged a chair and dragged it next to Elizabeth’s seat, giving her a conspiratorial grin as though they were old friends instead of almost strangers. When he sat down, his leg nudged hers. She pressed back, not sure if her boldness or his nearness was responsible for the shot of excitement that rippled through her.

The rest of the bachelorette party attendees greeted him with waves and hellos except for Marissa. She drummed one set of glossy nails on the tabletop. “Do I know you?” she asked.

Will’s smile stayed fixed, but Elizabeth could feel his body tighten from where their legs touched. “I don’t think so,” he said pleasantly.

“You look so familiar.”

“I guess I just have one of those faces. So, who’s the bride-to-be? Let’s toast to her.”

Elizabeth began passing out the shots. When everyone held one, she lifted her glass. “Here’s to Cindy and her soon-to-be husband, Todd. May all your ups and downs be between the sheets.”

“I will definitely drink to that,” Cindy said.

Elizabeth tipped back the shot glass and let the liquor burn down her throat. She gave a little shudder and slammed the empty glass on the table. Will was staring at her with another one of his smiles.

“What?”

“Aren’t you supposed to say ‘skål’ and chuck it in the fire?”

“That makes no sense.”

He reached for the napkin dispenser in the center of the table. “Does anyone have a pencil?”

Purses were fished through until Cindy held a pen triumphantly aloft. “I do.”

“Thanks.”

Everyone watched as he scribbled something on the cocktail napkin. He finished with a flourish and then slid it over to Elizabeth.

It was a sketch of a stereotypical Viking woman complete with braids and horned helmet. “Is this me?”

“Only if you like it.”

“It’s all right,” she said with mock indifference. She placed the napkin carefully in the inner pocket in her bag where it wouldn’t get torn.

Cries of “Ooh, do me!” and “No, me next,” came from around the table.

He did a quick succession of doodles—Cindy in a puffy white dress, Marissa as the Red Queen complete with a speech bubble of “off with their heads,” Jenna as Rosie the Riveter—until everyone had a cocktail napkin sketch of their own to tuck away. He made a show of shaking his hand out just as Vinnie brought another round of shots over.

Cheers went around the table and the women grabbed for glasses. Elizabeth brushed fingers with Will when she reached for hers and it made her want to giggle like a twelve-year-old. He gave her a little wink, which should have been ridiculously cheesy. Instead, she had the sudden desire to drag him to a dark corner of the bar and see if he kissed as good as he talked.

“Sláinte!” Will said.

She tipped the shot back. And then realized she hadn’t thought about Megan for hours.

* * *

The shot went down faster than his good intentions. Elizabeth shuddered and slammed her shot glass down on the table. She looked up at him with a mischievous grin and he wanted to drag her into the bathroom and go for it right against the wall. A lightning-quick expression of worry crossed over her face. She pulled her phone out but then gave a little head shake, as though clearing away whatever thought she’d had.

He held his hand out. “Give me your phone.”

“What?”

He waved his hand. “C’mon, blondie.”

She passed over her phone. He held it up, gave a big grin, and snapped a selfie before going to her contacts and inputting his number. “Here you go.” He handed it back. “Call me.”

She tilted her head to the side, moistened her lips...it would be so easy to take her hand and lead her from this bar, hail a cab, and try to keep their hands off each other during the trip to his apartment. They’d rush to his door, he’d fumble with the keys, anticipation and lust mixing in a cocktail stronger than the tequila. But then afterwards, he’d wake up next to a stranger, all the fun and excitement of the night reduced to a tawdry encounter. She’d slink out with smeared makeup and impractical shoes into the unforgiving daylight while he downed a pot of coffee with an aspirin chaser. He would promise to call and she’d pretend she wanted him to, but they’d never see each other again.

This time would be different. He wasn’t going to keep making the same mistake.

He summoned every ounce of willpower he possessed to stand up from the table. With a wave to the assembled women, he said, “Have a fun night.”

“You’re leaving?” Elizabeth asked.

“You have my number.” He walked out without a backwards glance, hoping like hell his gamble would pay off and she’d call him.

Otherwise, he was just going to have to haunt the Thorny Rose in the hopes that someday she’d walk back in again.

* * *

Elizabeth clutched her phone dumbly as she watched her sure thing amble off. No big deal. Plenty of buses in the ocean/fishes that go by. So why did the night suddenly feel as deflated as an old beach ball?

She turned back to the table, reminding herself that she was here to have fun and make some awesome new friends. “Who wants another round?” But she didn’t want to stay in this bar anymore. Change of scenery. Forget him. “Better idea. Let’s go over to the Hong Kong for scorpion bowls and meat on a stick.”

Her suggestion was met with a round of cheers and they trooped out giddily into the warm night, a much livelier group than they’d been pre-shots and pre-Will.

Chapter Two

The sound of the front door slamming shut jolted Elizabeth awake. She pried her face from the couch cushion, but her lashes were gummed together with crusty mascara and it took a moment to open her eyes. She blinked at the late morning sun streaming through the drapes, and that small movement was enough to set off the drill jackhammering in her head.

She clutched her temples. “Fuck.”

Her sister Megan’s voice rang out through the house. “Hello!”

“In the living room,” she croaked from an abused throat. She had a hazy memory of yelling “woo” a lot. Her body was also one big muscle ache. She was too old to be sleeping on the couch and definitely too old to be dropping it like it was hot on the dance floor.

She managed to sit up just as Megan entered the room. “What are you doing here?”

Megan put her hands on her hips and surveyed the room. “Better question is, what have you been doing without me?”

An open bag of chips lay on the coffee table next to a sleeve of Oreos—Elizabeth had obviously done a little drunk eating when she got in. She looked down at herself. She was still wearing all her clothes minus one shoe and half her makeup was smeared on the couch cousin. Her bra was digging into her mercilessly. Damn torture device.

“Fun night?” Megan asked.

Elizabeth put a hand to her aching head. “Not so loud. And none of your business.” She dropped her hand. “Wait a minute. What are you doing home? I thought you were going to stay on campus this weekend and try and meet some people.”

“I’m happy to see you too,” Megan said.

“You know I don’t mean it like that.” Elizabeth patted the couch cushion in invitation, but Megan only crossed her arms and planted her feet. “It’s just if you keep coming home every weekend, you’re not going to settle in. College is great, but you have to give it a chance. I know it’s scary right now and you don’t know anyone, but you have to try.”

“Whatever,” Megan said.

Elizabeth took the lack of eye rolling as a positive sign that just maybe some of her words penetrated Megan’s defensive grid, so she pressed pause on the lecture. Besides, her heart wasn’t in it. She was too busy wishing for an IV line and a banana bag—a mix of fluids, vitamins, and minerals they gave patients in the hospital, which turned out to also be awesome for hangovers. She didn’t know that from personal experience, though. Her last hangover had been over eight years ago.

“You must have gotten up early to get here in the morning,” Elizabeth said. Megan was a freshman at UMass in Amherst, which was at least a two-hour drive away.

“It’s noon.”

“What?” Elizabeth sprang off the couch and instantly regretted it, clutching her head from the ensuing waves of agony. Her stomach churned and she swallowed against the sour taste in her mouth. “Let this be a lesson to you, young lady. Alcohol is poison.”

“Yes, and I shouldn’t drink, but if I do I should never let my drink out of my sight or let anyone else mix it for me, and never get in the car with someone who’s been drinking, but I should call you and you’ll come get me—wait, does that part still apply?”

“No, because ride-sharing apps are a thing now.” She staggered into the kitchen and pulled the coffee out of the refrigerator. She didn’t have to turn around to know Megan was already pouring water in the coffeemaker and taking out two mugs. The familiarity of the routine was soothing. As much as she wanted Megan to stay at school and carve out a life there, to enjoy the total college experience that Elizabeth had given up, she was selfishly happy to have her home. They could watch movies and eat pizza in their usual Saturday night ritual.

She gave Megan a playful hip check to move her away from the coffeemaker and scooped coffee into the machine. There was only one mug laid out. “You’re not having any?”

“I had mine when it was still morning.”

“You can watch me drink mine while you talk to me, then. Tell me about your classes.”

Megan shrugged. “They’re whatever.”

“You don’t believe me now,” Elizabeth said, “but these are going to be some of the best years of your life.” She placed a hand gently on Megan’s shoulder. “I want more for you than just staying in this town.”

Megan shrugged off her hand. “Like you did?” She turned away with a “Sorry I wrecked your life.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath against the churning in her gut and gentled her voice. “You didn’t wreck my life. I love you. You know you mean everything to me.”

“I know. That’s the problem,” Megan said. “I just need you to back off.”

“Megan—”

“I’m out of here.”

“Where are you going?”

“I guess nowhere,” Megan shot back before storming off, leaving Elizabeth all alone with her hangover. She knew Megan was having a tough adjustment. It didn’t make it any easier when Megan took it out on her, though. Especially since Megan wasn’t the only one struggling.

One cup of coffee, two aspirin, and three glasses of water later, she dragged herself upstairs to the bathroom ready to scrub away the traces of last night’s drunken foolery.

While Elizabeth stood in the shower, bracing herself against the cold tile wall, Megan’s words echoed in her head. God, she did need to get laid. She loved sex—at least, she remembered loving sex. She just hadn’t had it with another person since that night a phone call changed her whole world.

Before that night, she’d been a junior in college majoring in beer pong with a minor in boys. All that had changed in the seconds it took a drunk driver to cross two lanes of traffic and slam her parents’ car into a tree. One person’s criminal negligence and Elizabeth’s world changed forever.

When the hospital called, she’d thought one of her sorority sisters was playing a horrible prank on her. What the woman on the other end of the line was saying couldn’t possibly be true. She’d just talked to her parents on the phone earlier that morning.

To this day, she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten home that night. When she pulled into the driveway of the house she grew up in, she couldn’t remember ever even getting into her car, never mind the drive from UNH. Mrs. Connolly from next door was sitting in the living room watching ten-year-old Megan, who was tucked up in a tight ball in the corner of the couch. Megan, her parents’ late-in-life miracle baby and now all Elizabeth had left of them. She had to be strong because Megan needed her.

They’d buried Sam and Hope Owens on a bitterly cold February morning. Elizabeth stood in the snowy cemetery with Megan’s little hand clinging to hers and promised she’d always take care of her. With the insurance money, she paid off the mortgage so Megan could stay in their home and enrolled in the local nursing school. She was going to need a reliable job to make good on her promise.

And now Megan was leaving the nest. This was what Elizabeth had wanted. She wanted Megan to have everything. She wanted her to experience that freedom she remembered from her UNH days. Classes and parties and boys and new friends. Coffee and Red Vines fueled all-night study sessions, sharing talk about boys with her friends, analyzing the contents of a text message like they were decoding encrypted secrets, dancing at parties like the morning would never come. She would never have these things again, but Megan could.

After her shower, she staggered to her bedroom. The same room she’d lived in her entire life minus two years. It hadn’t seemed right to immediately move into her parents’ room, even though it was the master. That felt disrespectful. She’d thought in time she’d move out of her childhood room, but it just never happened. The only concession she’d made toward her new adult status was trading her single bed for a queen and taking down the boy band posters.

She crawled into bed with the intention of napping, but sleep wouldn’t come. She tossed and turned for a few minutes before giving up in disgust. She grabbed her bag off the ground next to her bed and dumped out the contents, looking for her phone. A cocktail napkin drifted out. It was the picture of her Will had scribbled last night.

Had his eyes really been that impossibly green? And why hadn’t she just hauled him into the ladies’ room and had her way with him when she had the chance? The rest of the night had been a bit of a drunken blur, but one thing she was certain of: she hadn’t flirted with any other men.

Would he have been gentle or rough—tossing her up on the bathroom vanity, shoving her short skirt up her thighs so ruthlessly it tore? His hands tangling in her hair, shoving her head back so he could plunder her mouth with kisses...or maybe he’d be playful, teasing, his fingers sliding up her inner thighs almost to where she so desperately wanted them before a sneaky retreat left her wanting.

She opened the bottom drawer of her nightstand and gently placed the napkin inside. And then she opened the top drawer. The one advantage to having the house to herself—her noisy friend could come out to play. Her pussy was already wet with anticipation. It wouldn’t take more than a minute with her vibrator for her to come.

The chime of an incoming text message sounded. She placed her vibrator on the nightstand and picked up her phone. It was from Marissa. It said, I figured out how I knew your mystery man, followed by a link. Then, Click on October.

Elizabeth clicked. The link went to a website with a calendar featuring Boston area firefighters with proceeds to benefit local animal shelters. She navigated over to the October page only to be confronted by a picture of a shirtless Will with the yellow firefighter pants, red suspenders, and helmet. And the best part, other than his well-oiled six-pack, was the floppy-eared puppy cuddled in his brawny arms.

Her whole body instantly went up in flames. Without thought, she slid a hand down her body to between her legs and touched herself lightly.

Was she going to get herself off to a picture of a guy who’d probably forgotten about her five minutes after leaving the Thorny Rose? After all, she’d done everything but give him a lap dance to show him she was interested. For all she knew he’d been on his way to meet another woman. A guy like him would only be single by choice.

But he’d given her his number before he’d left. Which was probably his standard move. He was probably in more than one phone under “booty call.”

She looked at the picture some more—those abs, those arms, that cocky grin. Maybe it was time she made her own booty call. It wasn’t like she was looking for a boyfriend right now. It was time to have some fun and explore her new freedom, not mope around. And Will looked like all kinds of fun.

She scrolled through her contacts after one more long, lingering gaze at his picture. Not that she needed it. The image was emblazoned on her brain.

She didn’t find him under the Ws. It wasn’t until she’d gone through her entire list that she discovered where he’d hidden his number. It was filed under HUSBAND and he’d thoughtfully added his picture so she wouldn’t be confused. She looked at that wicked grin and took a deep breath.

How was this even done? Texts. Everyone texted now. She typed out Hi and dropped the phone as if it had turned to molten lava in her hands.

You can do this. You’re a single, adventurous woman who isn’t afraid to go after what she wants.

She picked her phone back up. What to send? Something to let him know she was on to his tricks—no way hers was the only phone he was in as husband—but not harsh enough to shut him down.

Last time I checked, bigamy is still illegal, husband. There. It might not be the wittiest thing she’d ever come up with, but it was casual. She squeezed her eyes shut and hit Send.

She held the phone in her hand as if she were cradling a grenade that could go off at any moment. Except it wasn’t going off. Absolute silence but for the sound of the blood pounding in her ears.

He wasn’t going to text her back.

Probably because he’d already forgotten her. Either that or was regretting giving her his number. She was an idiot.

Falling back onto the mattress, she placed her pillow over her face and wished for the sweet release of death. The was nothing like embarrassment to turn a bad hangover worse.

Chapter Three

Will upended the sugar canister over his coffee. He didn’t stop pouring until his spoon could almost stand up on its own. Today he needed the caffeine and the sugar. After wrenching himself away from Elizabeth, potential love of his life, before he could do something stupid, he’d gone straight home, but instead of going to bed, he’d stayed up painting all night. He wasn’t a real artist, just a guy who drew stuff sometimes, no big deal, but he’d been exploring different mediums lately, and the depths achievable with oils was blowing him away.

Needless to say, after pulling an all-nighter, he wasn’t exactly in the mood for brunch with his siblings. But skipping would have opened him up to all kinds of abuse, especially since they’d gathered specifically to talk about their parents’ upcoming thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. So he’d met them at their favorite “greasy spoon serving breakfast all day, but don’t call it brunch, you freaking yuppie” diner in Medford, the once working class but rapidly gentrifying town just north of Boston proper.

He rubbed his bleary eyes and looked up to find himself being watched by his sister Emily, her wife Sophia, his brother Brian, and Brian’s girlfriend Priya. “What?” he asked, and put his coffee cup back down on the chipped Formica tabletop.

“Don’t you look fresh as a daisy,” Emily said.

“You need a Bloody Mary,” Brian said. “Little hair of the dog.”

“Water. You need to hydrate,” said Priya, a smart, beautiful woman with an MD after her name, who was inexplicably head over heels in love with Will’s goofball brother. She eyeballed him like she was dying to whip out her stethoscope or jam a tongue depressor in his mouth. “Ninety percent of hangovers are dehydration. The rest is just exhaustion because alcohol interferes with REM sleep.”

“I’m not hungover,” he said.

“Tell that to the bags under your eyes,” Brian said.

“Is it because you’re still drunk?” Emily asked.

“Give him a break, you guys,” Sophia said gently. Finally, someone on his side. “He looks too miserable for your teasing.” Or not.

He cast a baleful eye around the table. He was outnumbered because he was, as usual, flying solo. “I should have stayed in bed.”

“Too bad. We’ve got important business,” Brian said.

“What are we going to do for Mom and Dad?” Emily asked. “This anniversary is kind of a big deal.”

“Homemade card isn’t going to cut it?” Will asked.

“Not anymore,” Emily said.

“Welcome to your thirties, baby bro,” Brian said.

“I’m twenty-eight, doofus.”

“You don’t look a day over forty,” Brian said before stabbing some home fries off Priya’s plate. She mock threatened him with her fork and they shared a smile.

Next to him, Emily was turned slightly toward Sophia, whose body was likewise shifted, closing a private loop that contained the two of them.

Will cut into his pancakes. “Why don’t we throw them a party?”

“Not another backyard barbecue,” Emily said. “We do those all the time.”

“You could rent out a space and have it catered. Maybe get a DJ and have a sort of wedding reception.” Priya said.

Sophia leaned forward. “Your parents might even like to renew their vows. We could invite their minister.”

“We’d need to find something fast,” he said. “Their anniversary is only a month away.”

“This is a really bad week for me,” Brian said. “Danny and I are working a major case. I’ve actually got to take off soon.” The fact that Brian, who’d almost been expelled from high school for fighting more times than Will could remember, was now a bastion of law and order never failed to amuse him.

Emily and Sophia looked at each other. “We’ve got the meeting with the mortgage broker coming up,” Emily said to Sophia.

“Don’t forget the home inspection,” Sophia added.

“Maybe if you use some vacation time...”

Sophia pulled out her phone to check her calendar.

Will watched the two of them try to coordinate their schedules with a growing sense of annoyance that no one had asked him to do anything. Normally he’d just shrug and let everyone else work out the details—the prerogative of being the youngest—but today the fact that no one ever expected anything of him got under his skin.

“I can handle it,” he said.

He got a table full of incredulous expressions in return.

“What, you don’t think I can do it?”

Brian held his hands up. “Hey, you want to do all the work, knock yourself out.”

“Fine with me,” Emily said.

“I can help,” Priya said.

“You don’t have to,” Will said. Why did they all think he was a moron?

“I know. I want to. I like your parents and I... I’d like to be part of this.”

Brian put his hand over Priya’s and Will pulled his head out of his ass long enough to remember that she wasn’t close to her family. He hadn’t pried—if Priya had wanted him to know why, she’d have told him—but he could tell the estrangement was painful on her side.

He pushed stop on the self-indulgent pity party and gave Priya a real smile. “That’d be awesome,” he said.

They took a few minutes to compare schedules. Between her odd hours as an ER doc and his as a firefighter, they almost gave up until they hit on Friday afternoon.

“Okay, it’s settled,” Priya said. “Meet me at the hospital at noon and we can go from there.”

His phone beeped with an incoming text. He forced himself to take another bite of his pancakes before he casually reached for his phone to check his texts. He felt the corners of his mouth turn up at the name. Elizabeth had texted him in the daytime. That was the stuff of relationships, not hookups, which meant his plan had worked. He was a genius.

“So, I gotta run,” he said to the table. No way was he texting her back with his family around. They would waste no time busting his chops if they knew he liked this girl, even sweet Sophia—she’d been married to his sister for way too long not to have had some MacGregor rub off on her. He drained the last of his coffee before pointing at Priya. “But I’ll see you on Friday. And I’ll see the rest of you jackasses later—except you, Sophia. You’re not a jackass even if you did marry into this family.”

A round of boos and a few crude gestures accompanied his exit. He’d once had a girlfriend who’d gone on about love languages, like everyone spoke a different one, or some bullshit. He hadn’t paid attention because that was back in his shallow days before he’d grown into the mature adult he was now. But if there was such a thing as love languages, then his family’s lexicon was composed of jokes and insults. It worked for them.

He waited until he was safely home before responding to Elizabeth’s text. It wasn’t a power play, he just wanted to give her full attention, and as a firefighter, he’d been a first responder to too many accident scenes to ever text and drive. He settled down on his sofa, kicked off his shoes and read her text.

Bigamy? he wrote. He debated whether to add a winky smile face emoji but thought better of it. Smiley faces weren’t very manly. He hit Send.

God, he hated texting. Not that he’d want to go back a hundred years and be forced to write letters, but there was another option. Why didn’t anyone use the phone part of the phone? He wanted to hear her voice.

While he was waiting for her response, he picked up his sketchbook and a pencil off the coffee table and began doodling. It didn’t take long for his phone to chime.

I’m sure I’m not the only woman in Boston whose phone you’re in under husband.

He tapped his phone in his hand. How to convince her that he wasn’t a playboy without coming across as insincere or coming on too strong? This was so much easier in person. What are you doing?

I’m in bed, she responded.

Sorry if I woke you up.

I’m not sleeping.

What was she doing in bed? Don’t picture that. That’s how you get in trouble.

Then what are you doing? Why did you send that, you idiot? Nothing suggestive. You want to get to know this woman, not just be her plaything.

She sent back a smiley face, then, So, I found something on the internet.

And there it was. That stupid calendar was going to follow him around for the rest of his life. The internet was forever. It was for a good cause.

How did that puppy not slip off you?

You think the oil’s bad, the bronzer was even worse. I don’t know if you noticed in the dark light of the bar, but I’m not orange. I’m actually white.

Let me see.

See what?

Send me a picture, she texted.

Despite his better angels, her request lit him up like soft hands on bare skin. But this was too easy, too impersonal. He needed real contact.

You first, he sent because his brain wasn’t in charge anymore.

* * *

Elizabeth was being a very bad girl. Excitement sparked tingles that raced down her spine. This was so dirty. Could she send a risqué picture? Maybe start out with something tame. She lay down and arranged her hair to spill across her pillow. She held the phone above her head and snapped the pic. It didn’t turn out too bad. Her eyes were half closed, but that was kind of sexy. Too bad her T-shirt was baggy. Why didn’t she own anything lacy? She hit Send before she could change her mind.

It only took a moment to get a picture back. It was his hand giving a thumbs-up. A thumbs-up? Not what I’m looking for, she sent.

A moment later, another picture. This? The tiniest patch of skin was revealed where he lifted the hem of his T-shirt. Not only was he a flirt, but he was a tease. She wanted to lick that seam of skin and then unbutton those jeans.

She hiked up the hem of her T-shirt and snapped a pic. She sent it quickly before she could think. She was having too much fun to think. There would be plenty of time to be embarrassed later.

Her gaze moved to her nightstand. Megan was gone. No one to hear.

She pulled out her vibrator. The only thing that gotten between her thighs in eight long years. She’d gone through a lot of batteries.

She pushed her panties off and sent another text. More.

Instead of a text, her phone rang. A Facetime request from Will. She tossed her vibrator on the nightstand as if he could already see her. Just answer it. She fluffed her hair, took a deep breath, and answered. His face filled her screen.

“Give me a panoramic,” he said. “I want to see your bedroom.”

“It’s a mess.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“You first.”

He gave her a 360 rotation with his phone. It landed on an unmade bed with rumpled sheets. She swallowed against the onslaught of wicked images. Tangling with him in those sheets, his taut muscles hard under her hands as she clung to him while he drove into her.

The picture on her phone shook. Caught up in her lustful fantasies, it took a second to realize he’d kicked a pile of laundry out of view. “Ignore that,” he said.

He swung the screen around to show her the rest of his room. An easel sat in the corner.

“You do more than sketches on cocktail napkins?” she asked.

“Well, napkins are my preferred medium.”

“No, you’re like an actual artist.”

“I dabble.”

“You’re modest? This is a new development.”

“Your turn,” he said.

“Fine.” She stuck her arm out and swung the phone around. A second too late, she realized what she’d revealed. Oh shit. Her vibrator was sitting right there on her nightstand. Maybe he didn’t see it.

“Go back,” he said.

She feigned dumb. “What do you mean?”

“I saw something very intriguing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So now you’re shy? You’re as shy as I am modest.”

She felt herself flush but tried to play it off. She picked up her vibrator. “You mean this?”

“How often do you use it?”

“None of your business.”

“What do you think about?”

A firefighter with oiled six-pack abs. “Nothing. It’s no big deal. Orgasms are healthy. I’m a nurse. You should have one a day. It’s like doing yoga or getting a massage.”

“So nothing to be ashamed of.”

“That’s right.”

“Then why don’t you do some yoga right now?”

“You want me to...” She waved the vibrator.

“You don’t have to show me the details unless you want to. Keep the camera on your face.”

The thrill of something dangerous raced through her. This was so bad it looped all the way around to become very, very good. A current raced between her thighs. Need knotted her belly. The question wasn’t whether she was going to get herself off—because if she didn’t come, she’d explode—but whether he’d watch while she did it.

“You’re not seeing my bits.”

“Is that the medical term?”

She stuck out her tongue.

“Lie down on your bed,” he said in a silky voice.

“Do I look like the type of woman who likes to take orders?”

“Yes.” He smiled. “I can take orders, too. It’s a two-way street.”

“Then you need to get on your bed, too.”

She was really going to do this. She put her phone facedown on the bed, propped her pillows up behind her, and fluffed her hair.

“Hey, no dropping the phone. I need to see your face.”

“And I need to see yours.” She picked her phone back up careful to angle it so he only saw her top half. She flicked on her vibrator and put it between her legs. The first contact made her gasp.

“How does that feel?”

“Amazing.”

“Keep your eyes open and look at me.”

His green eyes blazed right through the phone screen. The vibrator hummed against her outer lips. She nudged them apart to lightly place it on her already engorged clit. Her eyes fluttered shut against the near ecstasy that flooded over her. It was almost too much.

“Keep those eyes open,” Will commanded.

“I can’t. It feels too good.” She’d done this a thousand times in a mechanical, detached way. It’d never felt so intense before.

“You can.”

The first clench of her stomach muscles and she knew her orgasm was coming. When she felt the fluttering of her vagina, she automatically pulled the vibrator away.

“You’re done already?” Will said in a teasing voice. “Keep going.”

“I can’t.” She was about to come and the continued vibration would be too much sensation.

“You need to learn a new phrase like ‘whatever you say, Will.’”

Against her instinct, she followed his teasing instructions and held the vibrator against her clit as waves of pleasure rolled through her body. She held it past the point where she wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or pain anymore. The phone fell from her hand as her entire body stiffened. She could hear the gasping noises as if they were far away even though they were coming from her own mouth. The blood was pounding in her ears.

She released her hold on the vibrator and it dropped on the bed as waves of pleasure crested over her. As if from a distance, she could hear it buzzing merrily away but was too boneless to reach for it. Will’s voice sounded from the phone’s speaker, but the words were indistinct.

She turned off her vibrator and tossed it aside before picking her phone back up.

“How about dinner tonight?” Will asked.

“What?” Her brain was still scrambled. Why would he want to have dinner? He’d just watched her get herself off. Obviously this wasn’t on a relationship track. She’d never even done that with her most serious boyfriend, who she’d dated for her entire freshman year of college.

“I have to go.” She ended the connection.

* * *

Will looked at his phone in amazement. She’d hung up on him. He’d just watched her face tighten in pleasure as she orgasmed and then she shut him out. He sat on his bed with a racing heart and a throbbing cock and cursed himself. The minute she’d mentioned that stupid calendar he should have known it would end this way.

But he still couldn’t stop picturing her coming. He picked up his phone and flipped to the picture she’d sent him. Blonde hair spilling about her pillow, eyes half closed the way they’d been when she’d been pleasuring herself.

He picked up his sketchbook. A few slashes of his pencil and there was her hair, not enough of a wave to be properly categorized as curly but not pin straight. Her eyes, a little too wide-set for perfection, the arch of her eyebrows. His pencil moved furiously as she came to life on his page.

When he was finished, he tore out the page and held it up. “I’d like to know you,” he said.

Chapter Four

Elizabeth’s week began with a drunk barfing all over her scrubs during her Sunday night shift and then steadily worsened. In hindsight, washing vomit off her scrubs had been the high point. But now it was Friday and her shift was almost over. She’d survived. Just one last angry patient to deal with.

She took a deep breath, put on a professional smile, and reminded herself that she helped people. “I need you to remain still so I can get an accurate blood pressure reading, Mr. Donnelly.” She wrapped the Velcro cuff around his skinny arm.

Her patient glared up at her from the hospital bed. “Where’s the meds? Can’t you see I’m in fucking pain, bitch!”

She kept her smile on and her voice cheerful only through long practice. “Just try to relax, Mr. Donnelly. The doctor will be in shortly.”

Normally, all the distress, grief, anger, and hostility found in a hospital rolled right off her back. When patients and even doctors berated her, she shrugged it off or tried to empathize. After all, the patients were scared and in pain which would make a saint testy and the doctors—with a few notable exceptions, like her friend Priya—were just assholes. No use getting mad at an asshole acting like an asshole. But this week, she was ashamed to admit it had gotten to her. She’d had to bite her tongue more than one time to keep from snapping back.

Just push it down and smile.

Back at the nurses’ station, she finished up her charting and reminded herself she had the whole afternoon and all day Saturday off to do whatever she wanted. But the thought didn’t cheer her up like it should have.

Instead, all signs pointed to a long, lonely weekend. Megan had gone back to school on Sunday and promised to give college life a shot by staying and hanging out with her roommate, not coming home for a while. It was exactly what Elizabeth wanted her to do so she should be happy not moping. And it was time for Elizabeth to experience living alone—no responsibilities, no one to pick up after, force to eat her vegetables, check to make sure she’d done her homework. Just sweet freedom.

She was just logging off the computer at the nurses’ station when a frazzled Priya rushed toward her, white lab coat flapping. “I need a favor,” she said, skidding to a stop in front of Elizabeth.

“You got it. I’m done here.” She didn’t mind staying a few extra minutes to check a patient’s vitals for a friend. It wasn’t like she had someplace to be.

“Dr. Boyle called in sick.”

“And you need me to help with your rounds.”

“No, I need you to go meet Brian’s brother and tell him I can’t leave work. He’s out in the waiting room. Two ambulances just pulled in and I’ve got to run. Can you just tell him I can’t make it?”

“Sure. What does he look like?”

“Dark red hair. He’s coming from work, so he’ll probably be wearing a fire department T-shirt. You can’t miss him. Thanks!”

A creeping horror slithered down her spine. “What’s his name?” she yelled after the departing Priya.

“Will!” Priya yelled back over her shoulder as the double doors swung shut behind her.

What were the odds that there were two Wills on the fire department with red hair and only one of them was her friend’s boyfriend’s brother? Not good for her.

Elizabeth stepped out into the waiting room reluctantly. To say this was going to be awkward was an understatement. Just thinking about how she’d been so mean to him made her stomach churn a little. She’d just hung up on him, which he hadn’t deserved. He was funny and beautiful, but she didn’t need a boyfriend right now. He’d been safe when she thought he just wanted to get laid.

Before Megan left, she’d thought it would be nice to date again. She’d even let Priya fix her up on a blind date, which turned out to be a disaster, but now she knew she couldn’t. Not yet.

Will was easy to spot. His head was bent down over a magazine and the overhead lights glinted the red in his hair. She smoothed the front of her scrubs and took a moment to try and compose herself. Unfortunately, it also gave her a moment to recall how it felt to come knowing he was watching her.

Her face flamed and she tried not to squirm. She looked around the faces in the crowded waiting room and it felt like they could all read her thoughts. About how much she’d wanted to see him naked, to feel his skin under her hands—Stop! Just get your exploding ovaries under control and pretend this is no big deal. Light and breezy.

She moved toward him. “So, you’re Brian’s brother.” Her voice came out a little too high.

He looked up and his pretty green eyes widened. “Elizabeth?”

She gave a hopefully jaunty wave even though he probably hated her. “That’s me.” Shaking her head, she said, “I should’ve known you’re related to Brian. Your hair’s darker and your bone structure is a little different, but you two are similar. You’re just better looking—don’t tell Priya I said that.”

He’d be well within his rights to tell her to go eff herself, but there was no anger or annoyance in his voice when he asked, “What are you doing here? And how do you know Brian?”

“I work here. I’m a nurse. And I’m friends with Priya. And that’s why I came out here. She wanted me to tell you that she can’t meet you. Another doctor called in and she’s backed up with patients right now.”

He jumped up from his seat, tossing the magazine aside, and a horrified expression crossed his face. “Does Priya...”

She glanced around to make sure she didn’t have any coworkers in earshot. “Know that we...? She doesn’t know we’ve met because I didn’t make the connection until I saw you.”

He smiled ruefully. “I was going to say, know that you rejected me.”

“I didn’t reject you. I rejected a date.” She was close enough to smell him above the hospital disinfectant, and he smelled wonderful—like Christmas morning, all evergreen and spice. She resisted the urge to lean in and sniff him like some feral dog. This is what had been missing from what had still made it into her top five sexual experiences. Scent. Touch.

“What’s the difference?”

There was something about him that made it okay to just say the things she wanted to. “I’d totally bang you.” Like a screen door in a hurricane.

“Thanks, that’s flattering,” he said with a laugh.

“It’s not personal. I’m just not looking for a relationship.” Not looking to get tangled up in someone else, to lose herself so completely that she became nothing more than an attachment to him. Just some extra limb—helpful to him, but useless on its own. Because eventually she’d be on her own.

“It was dinner.”

She faked a breeziness she didn’t feel but desperately wanted to. “Which leads to talking, which leads to feelings, which leads to moving in together, which leads to sitting on the couch in sweatpants watching Netflix on Friday night. Which, don’t get me wrong, I like sweatpants and Netflix, but I’m ready for a change.”

“So what do you want?”

“Freedom, justice, and the American Way? Seriously, I just want light and casual.”

“Just get out of a relationship?”

She didn’t want to talk about Megan and the whole dead parents thing. Not when he was flirting again. Flirting she liked. Flirting was fun. “It’s one I’ll never get out of and I don’t want to. But I did just get a little more flexibility.”

She was reluctant to walk away. This was where she should say “see ya” and be thankful that he wasn’t being a dick. But she wanted to stay and keep talking to him. She liked the way his smile lit up his face and the way his eyes crinkled at the corner. Not to mention the cut of his T-shirt showed off a nice set of biceps. She was okay with being shallow. In fact, that’s all she wanted to be.

“What were you and Priya going to do before she cancelled on you?” She was just curious. It wasn’t that she wanted to go along because the thought of going home to an empty house was unsettling. She’d wanted that empty house.

“Looking at venues for my parents’ wedding anniversary party. It’s going to be a surprise party for them.”

“Want company?” she asked impulsively.

“I thought you didn’t want to hang out with me.”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just not interested in dates. I’m leaving work and I didn’t have anything planned, so I can help you look at venues—that is, if you want me to.”

“You have an odd idea of fun.”

“I also knit scarves—but not hats, because I can’t do turns—do the morning crossword puzzle, watch reruns of Murder, She Wrote, and floss regularly. I am all about fun.”

“Then this might be too much excitement for you.”

“I’ll take my chances.” The entire time they spoke a buzzing was going on under her skin. An electric excitement that felt like pure happiness. She could enjoy it for today.

“Give me a minute to change out of my scrubs,” she said before he could say he didn’t want her. “I’ll meet you back here.”

Chapter Five

Will never realized he was a masochist until this moment. Why was he flirting with a girl who played hot and cold games on an Olympic level? Sure, she was funny, sexy, and odd in the best way, but he was ready for something real and it wasn’t going to happen here.

When she came back, he’d tell her it was mistake and that they should just part ways right now. And what did it mean, that stuff about a relationship she didn’t want to get out of? He considered himself broad-minded, but when it came to dating, he didn’t share. If she had something open going on, he wanted no part of it.

She walked back into the waiting room wearing jeans that showcased those mile-high legs and a smile more incandescent than the overhead lights. “I’ll drive,” he said. “Are you in an open relationship?”

She sputtered, “What? Where did that come from?”

“You were being cryptic.”

“Women are allowed to be mysterious.”

“About stuff like bathroom habits, not whether they’re polyamorous. That’s stuff that should be disclosed up front. That’s the rules.”

“Are the relationship police going to arrest me?”

He grinned. “Would you like to be cuffed?”

“Are you offering?” she asked in a way that could only be described as purring.

It made him want to haul her into the nearest broom closet. But he wasn’t that guy anymore, he told himself firmly. “My truck’s out front,” he said.

Once they were in his truck and he was pulling out of the parking lot, she asked, “So, where are we headed anyway?”

“Medford. I need to pick up a picture from my parents’ house.” As part of his anniversary gift to his parents, he was going to paint a portrait from one of their wedding pictures. “That cool?”

She shrugged. “It’s your afternoon.”

“Ours now,” he said.

“You’re pretty smooth, aren’t you?”

“I used to think so.” Now he could better be classified as just plain dumb. But then again, he was the guy who ran into the burning building instead of away from it. And she was a five-alarm fire.

Being in an enclosed space with her was a mistake. The very air felt charged with her particles, like if he took a deep breath he’d be tasting her essence. He shot a glance over to where she was pulling the elastic from her hair. The motion pushed her breasts forward. Red lights flickered in his peripheral vision.

Those are taillights.

“Fuck.” He stomped on his brakes, almost rear-ending the car in front of him.

He managed to keep it together the rest of the way there and pulled up in front of the small three-bedroom house he’d grown up in. Despite the mild weather, the first few leaves on the maple tree in the tiny front yard were beginning to turn colors. In a few weeks, the rest would follow in a blaze of yellow and orange and red.

The front door was unlocked and he let himself in with Elizabeth following. He’d only taken a few steps into the front room when he heard the music. “Quick, we’ve got to get out of here!”

“What’s going on?”

“Enya.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her out the door after him.

“What is Enya?” she asked, but didn’t resist.

“A New Age singer from the ‘90s, but that’s not what’s important.” He hauled ass down the porch with Elizabeth’s hand still in his. He reluctantly dropped it when they reached his truck. “My parents are—” he paused to give a full body shudder, “—getting it on. Enya is their doing it soundtrack.” He climbed in the truck and turned the key.

She buckled her seatbelt and asked, “Why is that gross? I think it’s sweet that your parents still have an active sex life. How long have they been married?”

“It will be thirty-five years. MacGregors are like swans—we mate for life.” He gave another exaggerated shudder. “Very horny swans.”

“Then why aren’t you mated?” she asked as he pulled away from the curb.

“I need the right swan.” One that would look past the surface. “Why aren’t you mated?” Maybe she would give a real answer this time.

She looked out the passenger window, and he figured she was ignoring the question. But just as he was about to break the silence, she spoke. In a serious voice, one he hadn’t heard from her yet, she said, “I don’t want to be the sidelined love interest in someone else’s story. Her life, purpose, and value are tied to some hero and her happiness is dependent on another.” She shook her head. “Nope. Not for me.”

“Two people can share a story,” he said gently. He’d been amazingly lucky in his life to have been surrounded by examples of love everywhere he turned. From his parents right down to his siblings, he’d witnessed how opening yourself up to the right person made you more, not less.

She turned back toward him, her face once more a canvas depicting sunshine and cheerfulness. But he felt as though there was a picture painted beneath. One of pain and loss hastily painted over but the traces remained. “So how many people are you expecting for your parents’ party?” she asked brightly.

He shrugged.

“You don’t know? How do you not know?”

“We didn’t talk about it.” The texts and calls between him, Brian, and Emily this week had been long but not particularly decisive. They’d had a little trouble with consensus.

“What did you talk about?”

“We got in a fight over whether we should ambush our parents with the minister so they could renew their vows.” He spied a spot only a few feet down from the Thistle, the neighborhood pub where his parents had escaped their kids for the occasional pint—and as one of their kids, in retrospect, he wondered why they hadn’t been there more often. He pulled in and cut the engine.

“That’s probably something your parents should decide.”

“That was my position, but my brother and sister always think they know best.”

“Not like you,” she teased.

“That’s right. I’m the one who knows best.” He jumped out of the truck and circled to open the passenger door for Elizabeth, but she didn’t wait. She opened it just as he touched the handle. But she allowed him to hold the Thistle’s front door open. “They wanted it to be a surprise party and asking about vow renewals would ruin the surprise,” he said as he walked in after her.

The fireplace and warm wood paneling gave the Thistle a cozy atmosphere. Elizabeth halted right inside the doorway. Will took her arm, trying to not react at the tingle that went up his arm from the skin on skin contact, and steered her toward the bar.

He slid onto a stool and Jimmy the bartender slapped coasters down in front of them. “Hey, Will. How’s your Pops?”

Really happy right about now. He turned the automatic grimace at the thought of his parents having sex into a smile. “Doing good, thanks.” Elizabeth sat down next to him. “You want a beer?” he asked her.

“It’s only one o’clock.”

“That’s why I said beer, not whiskey. And after what I almost witnessed, namely my parents going at it, not having a drink is not an option.” He swiveled back toward the bar. “Two Guinnesses, Jimmy, and I need to talk to the manager about hosting a private party.”

“Manager should be in in about a half an hour if you want to wait,” Jimmy said, pulling down two pint glasses.

“How do you even know I like beer?” Elizabeth asked.

“What makes you think one of them is for you?”

She was perched on her barstool with her body turned toward his. She leaned in slightly. When Jimmy slid the first Guinness in front of her, she picked up the glass and licked a bit of foam off the top.

Images rushed into Will’s brain, and he shifted uncomfortably against the sudden pressure of his zipper against his hardening cock. She put the beer back down with a sly grin. She knew exactly what she was doing.

In twenty minutes, tops, they could be back at his place tearing each other’s clothes off with their teeth. He wanted to be inside her, those long legs of hers wrapped around his waist as he drove her to a breathless orgasm.

And then it would be over. This would be over, and he was enjoying just being with her. He took a long swallow off his beer.

“Do you want to play darts while we wait?” she asked. “Unless you’re afraid to get your ass kicked by a girl.” There was a challenging gleam in her blue eyes.

This Valkyrie liked games. He gave her a sly grin of his own. “Care to put your money where your luscious mouth is?”

Good thing he liked to play, too. Now he just needed to tease her enough that she’d want to keep spending time with him. After all, he could be irresistible when he tried. All he had to do was ignore the demands of his body until she wanted him for more than one night. And the way she was smiling at him, that wouldn’t take too long. They’d be spending Sunday morning shopping at Costco in no time at all, which was an image that once would have horrified him and made him run for the nearest exit. But with her, he might even enjoy picking out dishtowels.

* * *

The earlier bout of phone sex aside, it was becoming clear that Will was a relationship guy. They’d spent all afternoon together and he hadn’t even tried to kiss her. She’d done everything short of launch herself at him and hump his leg. During their game, she’d deliberately dropped a dart and leaned over in a manner worthy of the highest caliber stripper to retrieve it; if he’d bothered to check out her ass, he’d been covert about it. Whenever he said something funny, she’d touched his arm and laughed. She’d flipped her hair more times that afternoon than in the whole two years she’d been in a sorority. Apparently, sex wasn’t on the table without dinner.

Despite her mounting sexual frustration, she was having a fantastic time with him, though. After Will was done talking with the manager at the Thistle about the possibility of a private party, he suggested pizza, which was dangerously close to a date.

“Pizza is not date food. Bros get pizza together,” he said. “Unless it’s pineapple, because that might challenge their heteronormative view of the world. Fruit on pizza upsets the natural order.”

“What about bros who want to mess around but not date? Do they get pizza?”

“They skip the extra garlic. So, Pizzeria Regina?”

He was right. It was only pizza. And she had been the one to invite herself along in the first place. “I want sausage and pepperoni.”

He nodded. “Bros love meat. No homo, though.” He sighed. “Sorry, I spend way too much time with dudes.”

At the tiny pizza shop in the North End, they’d mostly discussed planning for the party, but she could tell by the way he spoke how close to his family he was. She’d had to push down a sudden wave of sadness. If things had been different, would she be coming home for Sunday dinners?

The arrival of one of his friends jolted her from her increasingly sad thoughts. A short, dark-haired guy wearing an extremely tight T-shirt called out a greeting as he approached their table. Will jumped up and they exchanged some sort of elaborate fist bump thing.

“This is Tony,” Will said. “He works with me over at the firehouse. Tony, this is Elizabeth.”

Tony sat down at their table and gave her a blatant once-over. “You might know me better as Mr. December,” he said. His smile had more cheese than the slice of pizza on her plate.

Across from her, Will rolled his eyes and she tried not to laugh. “Sorry, not familiar with your work,” she said. She’d never flipped past Will’s page of the calendar.

Her cell phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her bag with every intention of silencing it. But when she picked it up, she saw Megan’s name on the caller ID. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve got to take this.” She gave Will an apologetic look as she got up from the table.

She didn’t answer until she’d stepped outside onto the street. “Hey, everything okay?”

“I need some money,” Megan said. Her voice sounded strained.

“What’s wrong? There should be enough in your account to get you through the rest of the month. Did you need another textbook or something? I’ll just call the bookstore and charge it. That way you can pick it up.”

“Can you just put some money in my account?”

“Why?”

There was a long pause, but Elizabeth had practice waiting them out and stayed silent. Finally Megan said in a small voice, “I’m hungry.”

“Is there something wrong with your dining hall account?”

“I haven’t been eating in the dining hall.”

“Why not?” Elizabeth had paid for the full meal plan just so she wouldn’t have to worry about whether Megan was eating.

Megan’s voice grew quiet. “I don’t like eating alone in front of everyone. They’re all staring. I feel like such a loser.”

“So you’ve been buying all your food off campus?”

Megan said yes in the same tone she used when she’d admitted to cleaning her room by shoving her dirty clothes under her bed, or when Elizabeth had caught her trying to shoplift lip gloss from CVS, or when she’d rolled in past her curfew. Shame barely masked by defiance.

Maybe she’d been pushing Megan too hard. Turning eighteen hadn’t magically transformed her into an adult. It wasn’t too late for Megan to transfer to the UMass Boston campus. Then she could live at home with Elizabeth.

Elizabeth squashed those tempting thoughts. Her baby bird needed to learn to fly.

“You’re not the only person who doesn’t know anyone,” she said. “Almost everyone in your freshman class is in the same exact situation and they’re probably looking for friends, too. Just walk into the dining hall with your head high and a smile on your face. Trust me. It might take a little time, but you will make friends. You just need to be open to it.” And she had to let Megan go.

Everyone left eventually.

* * *

Will watched Elizabeth walk out of the pizza shop clutching her phone. Who was calling that she had to drop everything and talk to them right away? And why didn’t she feel she could take the call in front of him?

Tony reached forward and grabbed a slice. “Hitting that?”

“It’s not like that,” Will said, except it kind of was. Elizabeth had been completely up front that she wasn’t interested in anything more. But she was spending the day with him. He sat up a little straighter and smiled.

“You gotta strike while the iron’s still hot, man. Just a couple more months and this calendar isn’t going to be on every chick in Boston’s wall anymore.”

“I don’t think it is now. And I can’t wait.” If anyone had told him last year that he’d hate being constantly checked out by women, he’d have told them to go screw themselves.

“I’ve gotten more ass than a toilet seat in Fenway Park thanks to this calendar. And you’re seriously complaining?” Tony brought both fists up and mock rubbed his eyes. “Oh, boo hoo. Women only see me as a sex object. Can’t they see that under these muscles, I’m just a sensitive artist.”

“Shut up,” Will said, laughing even though Tony wasn’t wrong. He was complaining about a situation most guys would be thrilled with. But he’d had eight months of no-strings-attached sex since that calendar went up on the wall of every woman in Boston, and it had gotten very old. Was it really so wrong to want to wake up next to someone who knew his name? The last woman he’d had sex with called him Bill. That’d been a boner killer, but only part of the reason he’d sworn off one-night stands.

The other reason conjured memories of flames licking at his protective gear, the slight weight of the elderly woman cradled in his arms, and the crash of the ceiling collapsing on his heels, debris hammering against his back, forcing him forward...one second slower and he wouldn’t be sitting here arguing with Tony. Nothing like a brush with your own mortality to alter perspective.

“So you’re saying you don’t want to meet some Patriots cheerleaders?” Tony asked. “Tomorrow night at the Thorny Rose—I’ve been chatting with this one chick and I’ll tell her to bring her friends.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Have you seen how high they can kick their legs?” Tony wasn’t going to quit. He simply couldn’t wrap his brain around the concept of Will not being interested in a cheap hookup and was reveling in his own new in-demand sexual status.

To change the subject, Will gave an exaggerated leer and asked, “How’s your sister?” He’d only met Angela once, because Tony didn’t like her coming around the firehouse, but bringing her up was a sure way to bust Tony’s balls. He had that old-school macho Italian thing going on that Will found funny. Even though he didn’t know Angela, he felt confident she probably wasn’t as amused by it.

“Not getting anywhere near you,” Tony said.

“No woman can resist me, I’m Mr. October,” Will said. It was meant to be self-deprecating, maybe even a bit ironic because women seemed to have no problem saying no to him when it came to the important stuff. But he looked up to see Elizabeth standing there. Her smile was just as bright as ever, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“It was nothing,” she said. She sat back down. “I’m taking the last slice.”

But he was left wondering if she was upset about her phone call or if she’d overheard the tail end of his conversation with Tony and thought he was the type of guy who was only running game on her. But as he watched her blot her pizza with a napkin, he felt more confused than ever, because wasn’t that what she wanted? Someone like Tony, who didn’t let his emotions get tangled up in his fun? Someone that Will was discovering he couldn’t be.

* * *

After they’d finished eating, Elizabeth had asked Will to drop her back at her car. She had to get away and clear her head. He was dangerously easy to be with and the longer she spent at his side, the less she wanted to leave it.

Now, sitting at her kitchen table in her empty house on a Friday night, she tried to envision her new life. The page in front of her was nearly blank. The only thing she’d managed to write so far was the header: Things I Want to Do Now That I’m Free.

She tapped her pen on the table. There’d been a time when she had dreams. Lots of them. She was going to live a life of crazy adventure. She sipped her cooling tea. Tonight she’d decided to live life on the edge by adding a teaspoon of sugar to it. Somebody stop me! She snorted.

What to do? Hike the Pacific Crest Trail? Too cliché. Run with the bulls in Pamplona? Too cruel to the bulls. Move to Paris, live in a garret, write poetry, drink wine, and take lovers? She wasn’t sure what a garret actually was and her poetry sucked, but the taking lovers part...that sounded good.

Except she kept picturing Will.

Who she needed to stay away from. But who hadn’t committed to renting out the Thistle. He’d been concerned it wouldn’t be large enough to fit all the potential guests. Apparently Will had a large extended family. Not like her little family unit, just Megan and her. Only now Megan was becoming an adult who would leave her.

She found herself with her phone in her hand without ever forming the intention of picking it up. She tapped out a text to Will. Have you thought about renting a hall instead of having it at a bar? You could just hire a caterer and get a few kegs and some champagne. Make some playlists on your phone, hook it up to speakers, and you don’t even need a band or a DJ. It’d be a lot cheaper. And you’re not stuck with a bunch of rules. As long as you don’t trash the place, you’re golden.

She dropped her phone. What was she doing? She wasn’t supposed to imprint on the first hot guy she came in contact with like some sad little baby bird. No, she was a tigress or some sort of sexy jungle cat stalking her prey. An independent woman.

She snatched her phone back up from the table. Time to download one of those apps that people used to hook up. Right now. She swiped her phone and instead found herself looking at Will’s calendar photo again. Oh God, she had a problem.

When her phone beeped, she almost jumped out of her skin. Will’s text read, Good idea. You want to help me?

She shouldn’t. I have Saturday off, she sent back.

Cool. It’s a date.

Nice try. She couldn’t help but smile at his unswerving optimism. Although, she wondered if she was just a challenge to him. A woman who didn’t want to pin him down. After all, she’d heard him bragging to Tony about his irresistibility. It would be the height of stupidity to become attached. Just enjoy the ride while it lasts.

Have to hit the laundromat tomorrow so probably be a little later. I’d give my left testicle for a washer dryer hookup.

I’ve got a washer and dryer.

Nobody likes a bragger.

You can bring your laundry over. What are you doing? But her fingers kept flying over the keyboard. We’ll brainstorm while you’re doing laundry.

Where do you live?

Weymouth.

Aren’t you a little young for the ‘burbs? Live with your parents?

Just in her parents’ house. See you tomorrow, she sent, ignoring the question.

Chapter Six

“Quit texting like a chick and shoot,” Tony ordered, waving his cue at Will. After he’d dropped Elizabeth at her car, he’d met back up with Tony to shoot some pool at a dive bar.

Will lined up his shot but couldn’t keep the goofy grin off his face. She’d invited him over. The balls made a satisfying thwack as the nine-ball sank into the corner pocket, exactly as he’d planned.

“Luck,” Tony said.

“Skill.” Will attempted to bank his next shot but missed.

“Now watch and learn,” Tony said. “See how a real man gets it done.” Tony leaned forward to take his shot.

“Careful, don’t want to rip your boy’s medium.” What Tony lacked in height, he made up in muscle and was a big believer in no such thing as too tight a T-shirt. His Mr. December picture had helped move more than a few copies of the calendar. Had Elizabeth checked out Tony’s picture, too?

“Don’t hate just because you’re jealous of my gains, Picasso,” Tony said.

Will gripped his stick tighter. He was jealous, but not of Tony’s muscles—he had his own. The last woman he’d slept with, the one who’d called him Bill, he’d seen the following week hanging on Tony’s arm. If he slept with Elizabeth, would he have to see her with Tony next?

“Picasso was a Cubist,” he managed to say in a normal voice even while his guts were churning. “I’m more of a naturalist, although my style is still changing.” He reminded himself that Elizabeth had been friendly to Tony but hadn’t seemed overly interested.

“Whatever.” Tony shrugged. “You’re good. When you going to do something with that?”

“It’s just something I mess around with. I’m not a real artist,” he said. Just like he wasn’t a jealous guy. Elizabeth wasn’t his girlfriend and she had the right to sleep with whoever she wanted to. It just sucked that Will wanted her to want only him. But that was his problem.

He leaned over to take another shot, but Tony had left him with nothing.

“So you’re really not going coming with me to meet cheerleaders tomorrow?” Tony asked. “I need a wingman. Don’t make me take Fat Al.”

“Fat Al isn’t that fat anymore. He’s been running and passing on the cannoli.” It was hard working in the neighborhood with the highest concentration of Italian bakeries and restaurants in the city. Some of the guys at the firehouse weren’t year-round calendar-ready as a result. “Besides, I’ve got plans for tomorrow.”

“Elizabeth? Date or hookup?”

She’d texted him. That was a date, right? Admiral Akbar from Star Wars—a movie he’d seen way too many times thanks to his brother’s obsession with it, at least until Will got big enough to wrestle away the remote control—sounded in his head. And Admiral Akbar wasn’t wrong. It had to be a trap. If Will went over to her place and did what his body was dying to do, she’d slot him in as a hookup guy instead of someone to be taken seriously. He was tired of being that guy. But if he passed, then she’d be offended and move on.

That could only mean that it was actually a Kobayashi Maru—a no-win scenario. But James Kirk had triumphed over the Kobayashi Maru by showing the way to win was not to play. So, Will should go over to her place, but keep his dick holstered. Somehow he’d flip this and turn it into a date.

“I like her,” he said to Tony. He leaned on his pool cue.

“You’re such a woman,” Tony said, like that was an insult. Will really needed to get some new friends.

“At least I don’t need a booster seat,” he said, going for the easy points.

“The ladies don’t mind because I’ve got height where it counts.” Tony made a “boom” gesture, slamming his hands toward his crotch. “I’m talking about my dick. It’s big.”

Yeah, Will wasn’t going to use Tony as a sounding board for his Elizabeth dilemma. “You’re paying for my beer for making me think about your dick. And if you make a homophobic joke, you’re also buying the next one.”

It wasn’t until he got home that it hit him. Will needed to talk to Danny, his brother’s partner and friend, who, over the past year, had become Will’s friend, too. Somehow Danny had landed a girlfriend who hadn’t just been opposed to a relationship, but who’d actively disliked him. That guy was a fucking magician to have pulled that off.

Will kicked off his shoes and sat down on his old sofa, making sure to avoid the spot where the springs were coming up. It was a hand-me-down that had moved through several cousins before coming to him. The rest of his apartment was a similar mishmash of junk. He didn’t even have a set of matching plates. He’d be turning twenty-nine next month. Maybe it was time he started living like an adult. Before it hadn’t mattered because he spent half his time at the firehouse anyway. But now he’d like to have a place where Elizabeth would like to spend time.

He picked up his phone and checked the time. It was only nine o’clock, not too late to call Danny. No more texts. He was over this texting shit. In fact, next time Elizabeth texted him, he was going to call her back instead.

Danny answered just as Will was ready to leave a voice mail. “What’s up?”

“How’d you land Erin?”

“Odd thing to lead with. And they say I have no social graces.”

How did Will say “there’s someone I want to be my girlfriend” without sounding like a middle schooler? Prior to the whole calendar debacle, he’d had relationships. It’d been easy. A little flirting, a few jokes, go to dinner, then bam!—you’re a couple. Never even had to try. He didn’t even know how to try.

He rubbed a hand over his face and then spoke the mortifying words. “There’s this woman.”

“She like you?”

Did Elizabeth like him? She’d invited him over; that had to mean something. “Yeah.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“She wants to have sex with me.”

Danny was usually Captain Grim, so hearing him laugh was surprising. When he stopped, he said in a choked voice, “That’s usually not a problem.”

In the background, Will heard a woman’s voice speaking and then the phone changed hands. “You’re getting advice from the wrong person,” Erin said.

“So how did Danny win you over?”

“Cake. Cake and unbelievable sex.”

“Then I should sleep with her even though she doesn’t want a relationship?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“Are you going to feel like you deserve a relationship if she sleeps with you? In other words, if you have sex and she loses your number, are you going to be a total dickbag?”

“I’m not a dickbag,” he said with indignation.

Erin’s voice softened. “Then be up front. Don’t try to backdoor your way into her heart. And if you actually want to be with her, put a little effort in. We all like you, Will, but you’ve got to admit that you just let things happen.”

“I’m easygoing.”

“There’s easygoing and then there’s afraid to try. Just think about it. Here’s Danny.”

Danny’s voice came back on the line. “Food. What’s your go-to recipe?”

This was what Will needed, concrete advice, not armchair psychoanalysis. “I can make scrambled eggs.”

“Not going to get it done. When are you seeing her?”

“Tomorrow. I’m going over to her place.”

“Tell her you’re bringing dinner. Come over tomorrow and we’ll whip up something for you to bring.” Erin’s muffled voice sounded in the background. “And a chocolate hazelnut torte,” Danny added. “It’s a closer.”

Chapter Seven

Will pulled into the driveway of the last place he’d pictured Elizabeth living. This was a two-point-five kids, golden retriever, white picket fence neighborhood. She was about ten years too young for the two-story colonial house. He rang the doorbell, convinced he was in the wrong place up until the moment she answered the door barefoot. Her toes were painted bright red even though she wore no polish on her fingernails.

“You have a house in the suburbs,” he said. “How old are you again? I can barely afford the rent on a one-bedroom with drafty windows and zero closet space. And you live alone?”

She swung the door wider so he could enter. “Just me,” she said with a tight smile.

He followed her past the small entryway into a bright, spacious kitchen that was probably bigger than his entire apartment. He lifted the bag he was carrying. “I brought dinner,” he said. He unslung the duffel bag from his shoulder. “And my laundry.”

“Thanks for dinner,” she said. “Where’d you pick it up from?”

“Homemade.” He put the bag down on the counter and began pulling Tupperware out. “Lemon chicken, roasted new potatoes with rosemary, and asparagus. With chocolate hazelnut torte for dessert.”

She came up next to him and her arm brushed his. “You can cook?”

“I was going to try and pass it off as my own, but a friend made it.”

“Well, your friend’s a good cook. This looks awesome.”

“He’s actually my brother’s partner—my brother’s a police officer.”

“I’ve met your brother, remember,” she said with a smile. “Is your brother’s partner still the same guy. Daniel Cruz?”

“You know Danny?”

“It was the worst date of my life.”

“Wait. You went out with Danny?”

“We didn’t make it through dinner. He didn’t talk to me at all and then Erin, one of Priya’s friends, showed up and they got in some sort of weird argument. He got up and walked out on me. It was horrible.”

“You know, he’s dating her now.”

“Erin?” She began pulling plates out. Unlike his, her plates matched.

“Yeah.”

“Does he talk to her?”

“She says she can’t shut him up,” he said. “Let’s circle back to you going on a date. This anti-dating stance is new?” Maybe she’d been married young and was now divorced. That would explain how gun-shy she was.

She pointed toward a doorway. “Laundry room is through there if you want to throw your stuff in.”

“Nice try. I am going to put my laundry in, but you aren’t off the hook.”

The laundry room was only big enough for the washer and dryer and a small wooden drying rack with a few bras dangling from it. He quickly looked away because he didn’t want her coming in and catching him staring creepily at her lingerie. There wasn’t any sign of men’s clothes anywhere. He found some detergent and upended the contents of his duffel into the washer, wondering if he could ask for a tour of the house. He wanted to know everything about her.

* * *

Elizabeth’s hand hovered over the wine rack holding a bottle of mid-priced merlot. Was wine with dinner sending the wrong signal? What signal was she even trying to send? He was in her house. The house where she’d struggled to raise Megan. She didn’t bring men here. What had she been thinking?

She snatched the bottle and pulled two wineglasses down from the cabinet. She was fumbling with the corkscrew when Will came back in.

“Here, let me,” he said, taking the corkscrew from her hand. He was so close, she could have reached out and brushed back the red hair that was tumbling over his forehead. It looked like it would be silky to the touch. Her fingertips tingled and she yanked her hand back before she touched him. She stepped back as he deftly uncorked the wine.

He poured it into the glasses and passed one to her. “What do we toast to?” he asked.

She gave a wide smile and raised her glass. “To someone else cooking for a change.” She tipped her glass back and took an overly generous swallow. She bent over, coughing and sputtering. A warm hand gently rubbed between her shoulder blades.

“You okay?” Will asked.

She straightened up, her face burning. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s eat.”

* * *

This was turning into a date. Elizabeth sipped her wine and listened to Will narrate life at the fire station. The kitchen light picked out the red glints in his hair and his green eyes crinkled with good humor.

“Did you always want to be a firefighter?”

“Doesn’t every little boy dream of it?”

“You don’t answer direct questions, do you?”

“Says the Queen of Avoiding.”

“I’m not—” She bit off her instinctive rebuttal. Just because there were things she didn’t want to talk about didn’t mean she was an avoider. Who dumps all their problems out on someone they just met?

“Tell you what,” Will said. He leaned forward. “You answer one of my questions and I’ll answer one of yours. No holding back.”

“That’s silly.”

“Chicken?”

“That’s real mature. Fine. Give me your best shot, tough guy.”

He gave a quick laugh before his expression turned pensive. His eyes flickered to the left, before coming back to meet her gaze. “My family all have—” he paused for a moment, as though searching for the right word “—big personalities. I’m the youngest. I guess I always felt overshadowed,” he said with a brave openness she didn’t think she’d ever possessed. “At first, I think I wanted something concrete. To do something that made me feel, I don’t know, solid. Not just dreamy Will who doodled in notebooks. If I was a firefighter, then I would be someone. But along the way, it became less about me. You must feel it too being an ER nurse. How helping people changes you.”

She’d never planned on becoming a nurse. It was never her dream, just a practical solution to the immediate question of how best to take care of Megan. But he was right, it had changed her. “I don’t know that I could do anything else now,” she said. “Although, there are still days I dream of running away to a deserted island to live off coconuts and rainwater.”

“Some days are better than others. Some days you get to save a life. Three months ago, one of those Victorian houses converted into apartments caught on fire. Those things are tinderboxes. All it took was one spark from some faulty wiring. When we arrived, all the residents were out except for an elderly woman, Mrs. Murphy. The flames were already licking at the door when I took my axe to it. Luckily, she lived on the first floor and I found her right away. She was huddled on the floor. The smoke was too much for her. But I was able to pick up her up and make it to the front door. I’d just made it to the door when the ceiling collapsed.” A beatific smile lit up his face. “We gave Mrs. Murphy some oxygen and she was treated for some superficial wounds, but she was okay. She stopped by the firehouse last week with cookies—she usually brings some by on Sunday after church.”

As he spoke, she felt her throat tighten. He’d almost died. An icy hand gripped her heart. Once again, she was picking up the phone to hear the words that changed everything. She didn’t want to be that sad broken girl. The girl everyone left.

“That was a bad day,” she said, squeezing it out of her throat.

“No, that was a good day. It reminded me why I do this job—it’s not for the calendar. And it reminded me that life is short.”

The way he was looking at her reminded her of how it had felt to get herself off while he watched. She tried not to squirm from the sudden rush of sensation between her thighs. Under her thin T-shirt, her nipples tightened.

“You owe me a question,” he said.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Can you feel what’s happening between us, too?” he asked.

She squeezed her eyes shut. It’s only physical.

“Then why are you running?” he asked gently.

“One question,” she said. Her voice was rough and she looked down to see her hands were shaking. Strange.

This wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t going to just slide into her life. Not this way.

He took a swallow of wine and she watched the muscles in his throat work. “Are you done eating?” she asked.

“That’s your question?”

She stood up so quickly, her chair rocked back. She deliberately rounded the table to stand behind him. She leaned forward so her breast grazed his arm, and she slowly reached forward and picked up his plate.

She walked over to the sink with swaying hips, each footstep an invitation. When she reached the sink, she placed the plates down and stood braced. She felt more than heard him coming.

His body was a hot brand against her back, his breath warm on her neck as his arms came around and he rested his hands on the sink just outside hers, effectively caging her. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock against her ass right through her jeans.

“Fuck it,” he growled, and he pulled her hair away to kiss her neck.

Her hands gripped the ledge tighter as his mouth sent sparks shooting off throughout her body. She pressed herself back against him.

He roughly whirled her around so they were pressed front to front, so close she could see the ring of gold around his pupils. Their mouths found each other and she could only cling to him as they kissed wildly. His lips were paradoxically soft and firm.

He ground his erection against the seam of her jeans and she moaned in reaction. Her fumbling hands found the hem of his T-shirt and she yanked, freeing his mouth so she could pull the material over his head.

His chest was hard and smooth and even more beautiful in person. She tongued one flat brown nipple. She wanted him fast and hard. She wanted him to drive all the sadness out of her until only pleasure remained.

His hands tangled in her hair, a delicious pain. “Jesus Christ,” he said in a strangled voice. “Wait a minute. This is going too—”

She licked a trail down his flat stomach and let her tongue dip into his navel. He smelled incredible and tasted even better.

“Fuck,” he said.

That’s right. She unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper, eager to find him. To feel the weight of his cock in her hands, to take him into her mouth and feel him grow harder. Something she couldn’t get from her beloved vibrator.

She was so intent, she didn’t notice at first when Will froze. It took another moment for the sounds to register. The front door opening. Fuck.

She jumped back just as Megan entered the kitchen, her eyes growing wide at the sight of her big sister with her hands in some dude’s pants.

“Holy shit, what’s going on?” Megan asked. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.” She slammed a hand over her eyes. “This is so gross!”

Will dove for his shirt at the same time Elizabeth bent down to retrieve it. They banged heads. “Ouch!” she yelped.

Will gently rubbed her forehead. “Sorry.” His green eyes were warm and there was an amused affection in his voice.

She tried not to lean into his touch. Straightening, she said, “You should probably go.”

He blinked. “What?”

“And put your shirt on.” Her hand reached out automatically to touch him and she snatched it back. This was bad. Megan was watching and he was going to leave anyway, so he should leave now.

He shrugged back into his T-shirt and turned to face a stunned Megan. “Hi, I’m Will,” he announced, as if Megan hadn’t caught him half naked in her kitchen.

Megan gave a confused half wave back.

“And Will is leaving,” Elizabeth said.

Will’s face hardened. An expression she’d never seen on his face. He’d always been so relentlessly cheerful. She told herself that it was residual tingling that she felt from when they were making out. She couldn’t possibly be turned on. But who was she kidding? Everything about him turned her on. The way he walked, the way he talked, his smile, she had it bad. If only she could return it. This was not going according to plan.

“I’ll call you later,” she said.

After she’d hustled a confused and angry Will out, she came back into the kitchen to find Megan with her arms folded, one foot tapping the ground. “So, who’s this guy? Were you going to tell me about him?”

“His name’s Will and there’s nothing to tell.”

“Didn’t look like nothing. Is he a fuck boy?”

“A what?”

“A dude who jerks you around. Says he likes you and then you don’t hear from him for two weeks when he texts you out of the blue and wants you to come over.”

“No, he’s a good guy.” She’d texted him to come over and then thrown him out.

“Then why didn’t you tell me about him?”

“It’s just... I mean...” How to explain to her eighteen-year-old sister that it was just sex. Except Will wanted more. Oh God, she was the fuck boy here.

“I guess I now know why you don’t want me to come home anymore. You want to bone your not boyfriend without your little sister around.”

“That’s not true. I miss you.” She gathered Megan in a hug. “I miss you so much it hurts. But I want you to have all the things that I had and that won’t happen if you’re afraid to commit to your new life. You can’t hang on to the past. This is your home and it will always be your home, but it’s time for you to spread your wings.”

“This is getting a little too Lifetime movie for me.” Megan squirmed away.

“Shut up, you know you love it.”

“I never told you that you had to become a nun for me.”

“I didn’t want to bring guys around when you were younger. It didn’t seem right and you were still mourning Mom and Dad, and I didn’t want to bring someone into your life who you might get attached to and then they’d leave. And wait a minute, why are you home?”

“To watch Pride & Prejudice with you?”

“Nice try.”

Megan poked through the bag on the counter. Will had left so fast, he hadn’t taken anything with him. “Oh, sweet,” she said, pulling out a large Tupperware container. “There’s cake in here. This guy must really like you.”

Elizabeth told herself the churning in her guts was simple indigestion.

Chapter Eight

Will didn’t lose his temper often. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been angry. He’d been annoyed when his siblings treated him like he was twelve, miffed when the Pats got in trouble for deflating game balls, irritated when he was on the same overnight shift with Tony because Tony snored, but angry? Maybe when he’d gotten suspended for cheating back in eleventh grade because Eddie Flaherty had been copying off his paper during their math final.

He gripped the steering wheel with too much force and fought to keep his speed down as he drove 95 back to his apartment after being run out by Elizabeth like her husband had just come home. He was fucking pissed off.

And who was the young girl who’d interrupted them? She looked like a teenager, but he was crap at guessing ages. She could have been sixteen to twenty. Too old to be Elizabeth’s daughter. Although, now that he thought about it, Elizabeth hadn’t told him her age. She’d danced around it. Maybe she was older than he thought. What did he even know about her anyway? Maybe she was married and the girl was her stepdaughter. She certainly didn’t want him talking to her.

He slapped the side of his head in frustration at his stupidity. She was Priya’s friend and Priya had tried to set her up with Danny last year. So, unless she’d had a whirlwind romance and elopement, she was single.

He still deserved some fucking answers, though. He could just call Priya and ask, but he stubbornly wanted them to come from Elizabeth herself. She owed him that much for jerking him around.

* * *

Will was still mad when he woke up the next morning and dragged himself to work. When Brian stopped by the firehouse, Will was outside washing the truck. The sky was celestial blue, it was warm enough that the tourists walking the Freedom Trail who stopped to snap pictures of the old brick Engine 8 Firehouse were in short sleeves, and the Red Sox were currently stomping the Yankees over at Fenway. None of that had done anything to improve his mood. This kind of anger was so unlike everything he knew about himself. It was frightening. And the worst part was he didn’t know who he was so angry at: Elizabeth for tossing him out, or himself for believing she would just fall at his feet.

“Dude, leave some paint on it,” Brian said.

Will didn’t pause in his scrubbing, merely extended one arm with his middle finger out.

“I can see why you’re Mom’s favorite,” Brian said.

“You want something or are you just here to bust my balls?”

“Big brother’s prerogative,” Brian said with a laugh. “Seriously, though, are you okay?”

“Why can’t I be in a bad mood for a change?” He tossed the sponge. “Everything is not always awesome.” A part of him cringed because he was acting like a big baby and because he was quoting a kids’ movie. If anyone asked, though, he’d only watched that movie with his niece because she liked it.

Tony, holding a soapy sponge, popped his head out from around the other side of the truck. “He’s been like this all day. I think it’s his time of the month.”

Will glared at Tony and his big fat mouth before turning to his Brian. “If you laugh, I’m going to punch you.”

Brian held his hands up. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I just swung by because I was in the neighborhood and you’re not answering your phone. How’s the party planning coming? Need us to jump in?”

The party. Another thing he was failing at. He ran a hand over his eyes, suddenly exhausted. “It’s fine. We were thinking about just renting a space instead of doing it at a bar.”

“Who’s we?”

He found himself flushing. “I had someone helping me.”

“Managed to deduce that much because I’m—”

“Don’t say ‘a trained investigator,’” Will said. “Priya’s friend Elizabeth was helping me because Priya was busy.”

Brian arched an eyebrow in that annoying way he did it.

Tony piped up. “He’s into her, but he’s being a pu—”

“You’re not part of this,” Will said.

Tony shrugged. “Just saying, you can be a—”

“Why don’t we go get some coffee?” Brian said, cutting off Tony.

“Can’t. We might get a call.”

“We’ll just go to Café Victoria. It’s not even a block. You can run back here faster than you can slide down that pole.”

“I don’t know, he’s pretty good at riding—”

Before Tony could finish, Will asked Brian, “Can you arrest him?”

“I wish. Let’s go,” Brian said. “Later, Tony.”

It wasn’t until they were seated with coffees in front of them that Brian spoke. “You know I’m practically married to Danny, right?”

Meaning Danny told him everything. “Then why did you act like you didn’t know about Elizabeth?”

“Wanted to see if you’d tell me yourself. Although, Danny didn’t tell me it was that Elizabeth. I’ve never seen you get worked up about anyone before.”

“I’ve had girlfriends.” Although he couldn’t really remember how any of those relationships began or even ended now. Just a gradual drifting together and then apart.

“I’m not just talking about your love life. I’m your brother and I love you, even if you are an idiot and Mom and Dad should have stopped after me.”

That familiar tangle of exasperation and affection for his brother welled up, cutting through some of the sick anger still roiling in his gut. When they were young, Brian had been both his worst enemy and greatest ally. As adults, they were firmly in the ally camp.

“Jerk,” Will said.

“This is the tough love part. You always just cheerfully take what you’re given in life. You never actually try for anything. Which has been all right up until now because things just work out for you.”

“That’s not true. I try. It wasn’t easy to become a firefighter.” He’d worked his ass off, mentally and physically, to make it. And he still worked hard. He hit the gym even when he was exhausted. He’d learned to put fear aside. In the face of fire, every instinct a human possessed screamed run away, but he’d learned everything he could about fire so he knew how to defeat it. And when he couldn’t, how to face it.

He brought himself back to the present where Brian was still giving him a lecture.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Brian said. “It might be the one time I’ve ever seen you exert yourself. Everything else is just going along to get along.”

“Like what?” he challenged.

“How about your art?”

He was about to object, but Brian held his hand up. “This is the part where you tell me you’re not a real artist and it’s just a goof, but I know better. Remember when Emily had that friend who worked at that gallery on Newberry Street? She was willing to look at your art, but you couldn’t be bothered to even call her.” Will opened his mouth to protest, but Brian was on a roll and kept going. “And then there’s the women. You just hop from one bed to another and then complain about how you want a relationship.”

“You don’t understand. The women I was hooking up with didn’t want anything else.” Like Elizabeth.

“Did you ask them or did you just assume?”

“They left.” If they’d wanted more, they would have stuck around. Elizabeth wouldn’t have dismissed him from her presence like she’d been caught with the pool boy.

“Did you call afterwards?”

“Well, no, but—”

“No, you didn’t. Because you were glad they left because that meant you didn’t have to try. You could keep on blaming being alone on other people.”

“Then what about Elizabeth?”

“You liked her because she didn’t want a relationship.”

“That’s not true.” The connection had been instantaneous. He’d never felt anything like that before. She must have felt it, too.

“Then prove it. Not to me. To her.” Brian tossed back the rest of the coffee. “Lesson over. I’ve got to go meet Danny.” He shook his head sadly. “What would you people do without my good advice?”

“You’re a real Oprah,” Will said. Brian didn’t know what he was talking about.

But he still sat at the table in Café Victoria nursing his coffee for another twenty minutes after Brian left.

* * *

Elizabeth hit Save on the document she’d created and leaned back to stretch with a satisfied sigh. She’d done it. Three different meticulously researched options for a thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. She’d put together venues, music, catering, and booze options indexed by price and date. It’d taken her the better part of two days on the phone and checking websites. Now all she had to do was get it to Will so he could show it to his family.

Maybe it didn’t make up for kicking him out of her house, but it was something. She hit Print, and thought about how she’d see him again. There was no way he’d want anything to do with her. And she obviously couldn’t trust herself around him. This was a time for a neutral third party. She’d give it to Priya.

It was Wednesday before she shared a shift with Priya and not until the afternoon that she managed to get a break. She tracked Priya down in between patients. “Coffee?” she asked.

“Can you administer it intravenously?” Priya asked. There were bags under her eyes. “I’m on hour twelve of my shift.”

“I can make a fresh pot of sludge in the break room.”

“Sold.”

In the break room, Priya flopped down on the couch while Elizabeth grabbed the coffee and measured out grounds. “Don’t let me fall asleep,” Priya said. “I might not wake back up.”

“No sleep last night?”

“Brian’s been working a lot of hours, too. We finally got to catch up last night. I’ll leave it at that.”

Elizabeth leaned her hip against the counter and sang a few bars of mock porno music until a cushion sailed over the back of the couch toward her. She laughed and picked up the cushion.

“So what’s the deal with Will?” Priya asked, sitting up and peering at Elizabeth over the back of the couch.

“You knew?”

“Brian’s family is tight. They actually talk to each other and keep all their dysfunction right out there in the open. It’s refreshing.”

“How’s your family? Things getting any better there?”

“Slowly. I had lunch with my mother last week. Thanks for asking, even though you’re doing it to change the subject.”

“I was going to tell you that I went with him that day you couldn’t. No big deal.” Elizabeth pulled the folded paper from the pocket of her scrubs. “I wanted to give you this. It’s a list of party details that I researched.”

“Isn’t that something you should give to Will?”

“Can’t you just do it?” She pulled two mugs down from the cabinet and splashed freshly brewed coffee in them.

Priya patted the couch cushion. “Come sit down and bring the coffee.”

Elizabeth handed one of the coffee cups over and settled down on the ratty sofa. “The Chief Resident’s being a dick today, right? Like how he yelled at the new nurse. That wasn’t cool. She’s like a baby deer—all wide eyed and scared.”

Priya, who normally loved to talk smack about the Chief Resident, wasn’t biting. “Why don’t you want to go out with Will? He’s awesome.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him.” That was an understatement. She liked everything about him. His laugh, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he teased her, how just being around him made the world seem brighter. The way he kissed, how his skin felt under her hands...

“I don’t get it. Ever since I’ve known you, it’s been—” Priya’s voice took on a singsong cadence “‘—when Megan leaves I’m going to date sooooo many guys, I’m going to stop living like a nun, I can’t wait to get laid again.’”

“Stop,” Elizabeth said, laughing despite herself. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were all talk, girl. Tell me about all the exciting times you’ve had lately.”

Elizabeth took a sip of her coffee to avoid answering, because all her fun times had involved Will.

“If you’re not into Will, that’s one thing,” Priya said with an airy wave of her hand. “No one’s going to hate you. Not even Will, as long as you’re honest with him. Will’s a good guy and he’ll get over it.” She put a hand on Elizabeth’s forearm. “Just do me a favor. Consider whether it might be fear holding you back. I speak from experience. Going through life too afraid to take a chance is no way to live. I know losing your parents and becoming Megan’s guardian at twenty-one must have been tough. I wonder how much of that is influencing you now.”

Elizabeth blinked and summoned a cheery smile. “I should probably get back to work.” She stood up and pulled the paper from her pocket, holding it out to Priya. “Please just take this and give it to Will for me.”

Priya shook her head sadly and said, “I really think you should give it to him yourself.”

It wasn’t fair to put Priya in the middle of this, she told herself. Not that there was anything to get in the middle of. She was probably making a big deal out of nothing. “That’s okay,” she said. She dashed out of the break room before she lost her smile.

Chapter Nine

Elizabeth came home to an empty house. Unable to sit still, she ran the dishwasher, scrubbed the kitchen floor, and gathered her laundry together. She put a load of towels in the washer and reflexively checked the dryer only to discover it was full. And they weren’t her clothes.

She’d hustled Will out of her house so fast the other night that he’d left his clothes behind. She began pulling them out. A jumbled mix of T-shirts, jeans, socks, and underwear. Apparently, he wore boxer briefs, and he probably looked unbelievable in them. He obviously also didn’t believe in sorting his wash. You didn’t put your white T-shirts in with dark colors unless you were begging for dingy whites.

She should bring these to him. It was probably the least she could do. Maybe she could just swing by his place and drop them off. It would give her a chance to apologize. Who knows, maybe they could wind up as friends. He’d probably met a dozen new women by now. It wasn’t like he’d be pining over her.

She unclenched her fingers from his boxers. She just needed to quit fantasizing about ripping these off him.

She picked up her phone and made a call before she could think too hard about it. Will’s voice sounded sleepy when he picked up. She didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Are you home?”

“Yeah, why?”

“What’s your address?”

He sounded confused, but he rattled off a location in the North End. He only lived a block away from Priya, so she knew the neighborhood well. Not that Priya actually lived in her apartment anymore. She spent her nights at Brian’s but somehow thought that if she kept paying rent that meant she could truthfully tell her family that she wasn’t living with her boyfriend.

Elizabeth eyeballed the clock on the wall. Nine o’clock on a Wednesday night. Traffic should be light. “I’ll be there in thirty,” she said, and hung up before he could object.

She kept the radio on and her brain off on the ride over. If she thought too much, she’d chicken out and run home. She owed Will more than a texted apology. He deserved one face to face and he also deserved his clothes back. As much as she longed to see him naked, she’d prefer it be by his choice.

She had to circle the block twice before she found an empty spot. When she saw the little hatchback pulling away from the curb, she sped up to make sure no one snaked her claim before she could get there. She heaved the duffel bag with his clothes out of her back seat and walked down the street to his apartment building on shaky legs.

The unlocking of the entry door sounded almost before she took her finger off the buzzer. Will lived on the second floor and her pulse beat rapidly as she ascended the stairs. When she knocked on his door, he answered silently, simply moving back and allowing her to step inside. He wasn’t smiling.

Her first impression was color. The walls were suffused with color. Everywhere her eyes turned was art—abstract, natural, styles she knew nothing about.

“Is it all yours?” she asked.

“Just stuff I like. Some of it I did. What are you doing here?”

She dropped the bag at his feet. “You forgot your laundry.”

“Is that it?” His words were clipped.

“No. I also brought you this.” She fished out the list she’d tried to give Priya earlier. “I’ve already made the calls. All you have to do is decide which option you like and book the vendors.” She took a step toward him and held the paper out.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it from her.

She fisted the front of his T-shirt and dragged him forward. “There’s also this.” She kissed him without needing to go up on her toes or pull his head down to hers, making her height useful for something other reaching the top shelf.

It was like she’d lit a match. He pulled her close, molding their bodies together, their height match creating a perfect fit. There was nothing light or teasing about the kiss he returned. It was pure fire. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and she met it greedily with her own. Her hands rose to tangle in his short hair. She was a being of pure desire, burning from the inside. She’d never wanted anything more than to have him inside her immediately.

He lightly pushed her away and stepped back, running a hand over his face. “Hold up.” His voice was rough.

“I don’t want to hold up.” She watched his chest move up and down as he brought his breathing under control.

His green eyes pinned her. “You owe me some answers.”

He was right. She sat down heavily on his ugly plaid sofa, trying to think of what to say. She didn’t want to talk but she didn’t want to leave. She just wanted to be near him even if his clothes were still on and that was a scary as hell thought.

“You want a drink?” he asked. “Because I sure as hell need one.”

“God, yes.”

His tiny kitchen was open to the living room, separated only by a breakfast bar with a couple of ratty-looking stools. She watched him open the refrigerator and rummage about inside. He emerged triumphantly holding up two bottles of beer. “Ha! I knew there something other than old pizza boxes in here.” He twisted the caps off, walked over to her, and held a beer out.

When she reached for it, he pulled it back. “Start talking and then you get the beer. My place, my rules.” He took a swallow off his own bottle. “Mmmm, that’s good. Bet you wish you had one.”

The corners of her mouth lifted at his teasing until she realized that he was trying to make her feel better when she was the one who’d wronged him. He didn’t deserve to get yanked around like she’d been doing. Guilt gnawed at her insides.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“That earns you a sip,” he said, holding the bottle out.

She took the cold bottle from his hands, their fingers brushing. Tilting the bottle back, she took a long swallow. Then she resolutely placed the beer on the coffee table. “Megan is my sister,” she said. “I’ve had sole custody of her since I was twenty-one and she was ten.”

He sat down next to her on the couch, but she kept her eyes forward. If she saw any pity in his eyes, she wouldn’t be able to continue.

“Drunk driver,” she said. “My parents were on their way home from a party. It wasn’t even that late because Mrs. Connolly from next door was the only person they could find to watch Megan, and she doesn’t stay up past ten o’clock.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “So you’ve taken care of Megan for how long?”

“Eight years. She just left for college—if I can get her to stay there. I think she’s scared, so she keeps coming home.”

“Don’t you miss her?”

“More than anything, but I want her to start a new life. I want her to have every opportunity, experience everything. These years go by fast and she needs to take advantage of them.”

“Because you didn’t get to. That’s your parents’ house you live in, isn’t it?”

“Used most of the insurance money to pay off the mortgage. I dropped out of college and used the rest of the money to pay for nursing school. I needed to take care of Megan, and nursing seemed like a steady career.” She looked off to the side. “I was eleven years old when she was born. When my mom came home from the hospital, I remember being angry. I was used to being the only child and having my parents all to myself. I wasn’t interested in sharing. But then I met Megan for the first time. She was so tiny. And I remember...my dad put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘You’re her big sister. She’s going to look up to you, so it’s important that you always take care of her.’”

“Who took care of you?”

“I had to be strong for Megan. She lost her parents, I didn’t want her to lose her home or her friends, too.” Elizabeth had lost all her friends. They’d been sympathetic at first, but hanging around the chick with the dead parents and the traumatized little sister was a bummer. One by one, they’d peeled off, swept up in the drama and excitement of their own lives. Elizabeth couldn’t blame them. She probably would have done the same.

* * *

He’d found it. The hidden truth at her core. Under her sunny smiles and come-hither looks lay a deep pool of sadness. He wanted to be the one to fill it with joy instead. But all he could do was lamely take her hand. It felt as soft, delicate, and fragile as china in his own.

“Doesn’t explain why you tossed me on my ass,” he said. Every line of her body was screaming that she didn’t want his sympathy or, even worse, pity.

And he didn’t pity her. It was terrible that she’d lost her parents, but she’d stepped up and put her sister first. It was admirable. He’d been right when he’d depicted her as a Valkyrie. She had a core that was pure steel.

“I never brought any guys around Megan. My college boyfriend broke up with me when I didn’t come back to school. He never even came to the funeral. And there was no time for dating with nursing school and Megan and then work. Plus, I had enough problems handling her without adding some guy to the mix. You don’t know how many times I had to hear, ‘You’re not my mom,’” she said, pitching her voice to mimic a bratty teenager.

“So Megan catches you making out with an incredibly handsome guy in your kitchen and you panic. Something like that?”

She gave him a brilliant smile. “Exactly.”

He placed his beer on the table. “I still think you need to show me how sorry you are.” He wanted her and the only games he wanted to play anymore were those they played together. No more denying himself.

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “How do I do that?”

“You can start by swinging your leg over and straddling me.”

She moved over him, facing him so her knees flanked his thighs, and placed her hands on his shoulders. Their faces were only inches apart.

“Like this?” Her voice came out in a breathy whisper.

He only had to move his head a fraction to capture her soft lips. She followed his lead, molding her mouth to his. When he dipped his tongue in to taste her sweetness, she met it with her own. Her hands curled on his shoulders and he felt the prick of her nails through the thin cotton of his shirt.

He released her lips only long enough to peel her shirt over her head, tossing it aside. He cock throbbed at the sight of her breasts covered only by a lacy white bra. But he could wait—they still had a few games left to play before he’d be satisfied.

He worked her clasp open and slid off her bra. Her pointed nipples were the softest blush of color. He took one into his mouth and gave it a little flick with his tongue. She gasped and clasped him tighter.

* * *

Elizabeth was beyond thought. His talented tongue swept away all rational thought as the pleasure centers in her brain lit up like she’d just taken a hit off the highest quality drugs. When he teased her breasts with darting sweeps of his tongue only to capture a nipple in his mouth, applying the sweetest pressure, she thought she’d crawl straight out of her skin from the force of her reaction. She anchored herself on his shoulders as her body trembled from the force of her need. It had been so long since she’d been touched. He pulled back and she gave an involuntary sound of distress.

He stroked her face. With a wicked smile, he said, “Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of you.” And then his hands were around her waist. With one quick motion, he’d managed to swing her around so her bottom landed on the sofa. He crouched at her feet to untie her sneakers, but there was nothing of the supplicant in his posture.

Within seconds he had her shoes and socks off. His hands started at her jean-clad ankles and smoothed upward. His thumbs stroked the inside of her thighs and he was almost there. They moved up, but didn’t stop where she so desperately needed to be touched. Instead, he unsnapped the button of her jeans.

She lifted her bottom and helped him peel her jeans and panties off until she sat naked before him. She leaned forward, determined to rip the clothes from his body and take him inside her so she could get relief from this agonizing desire.

“Not yet,” he said.

“What?”

“We’re going to play a game first.”

“If you take out Monopoly, I swear to God I will murder you.”

“You’ll like this game. It’s called How Long Can You Last. I’m going to play with your sweet body and you’re going to try not to come.”

“I don’t think you understand how this works. I want to come.”

“I’m challenging you to hold off for as long as you can.” He gave her an annoyingly sexy smirk. “Chicken?”

“I’m the one naked.”

“Yes, you are. I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.” He placed his hands on her knees and gently pushed them open. “This is beauty,” he said.

He was looking at her most intimate places. Anyone with a scrap of decency should feel embarrassed. She wasn’t decent. Instead, the look of rapt wonder on his face sent a rush of heated desire coursing through her making her limbs feel heavy. Between her legs she could feel herself grow hotter and wetter.

He tugged her forward and spread her wider so he had even more access. With one hand he simply cupped her mound, letting her feel the weight and warmth of his palm.

“Is that all you got?” she asked in a husky voice.

He placed a finger over her mouth. “Shhh.”

She gave him a little nip in retaliation, but then he began to move the hand cupping her, gently sliding it up and down, making no attempt to part her folds yet.

He removed the finger from her mouth and replaced it with his lips. His kiss was as soft as the gentle stroking of his hand between her legs. But she needed more than this maddeningly slow caress. Her hips rose of their own volition to pump against his hand demandingly.

And then he was parting her outer lips. One finger nudged her entrance, but only to gather moisture for his clever fingers. He stroked up and down, up and down. Her clit throbbed, but he didn’t touch it, opting instead to trace her inner labia.

His mouth left hers. He bent his head and traced blazing kisses down the column of her throat. He didn’t stop until he reached her breasts, kissing and nuzzling them in time to the stroking of his hands.

Somehow her arms had encircled his shoulders and she found herself clenching him tighter. Her hips were flexing up and down. And then, finally, one finger moved to stroke her clit. She made a strangled noise deep in her throat. He circled it once, twice, three times. She could feel her thighs trembling.

He pulled back.

“Don’t stop,” she all but begged.

He stood up. “I’ll be right back. You can touch yourself, but don’t come,” he said before pushing open the door to his bedroom.

If she touched herself she’d go off like a shot. She needed it so badly, but she sat on her hands instead, waiting for his return with an exquisitely tortuous need.

When he returned, he was holding a long, thin paintbrush, which he presented with a flourish.

“What are you doing?” she asked, trying to not squirm.

“You’re my canvas,” he said. “Lean back.”

He flicked the bristles over her stomach, causing her muscles to jump. And then he moved the brush higher, running the scratchy bristles over her hardened nipples. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand another moment, he moved it down her body. He swirled it over her stomach and chest as though creating art only he could see. And with each stroke, she became even more alive with sensation. Then he trailed the brush even lower. With one hand he parted her pussy and with the other he ran the brush over her.

She almost lifted off the couch. The roughness of the brush was too much. She couldn’t take much more. He’d barely touched her clit and she was ready to go off like a rocket. He flicked the brush back and forth. Just a few more strokes and she’d be there.

He pulled away. “Open your eyes,” he said.

She’d been so caught up in sensation she hadn’t even realized her eyes had fluttered shut. She managed to wrench them open.

“Take a few deep breaths,” he said. “Just let yourself stay there. Don’t go over. You’re not going to quit on me yet, are you?”

“I’m going to murder you if you leave me like this.”

“I wouldn’t. Trust me. It will be so much better if you don’t rush it.”

She’d only had rushed self-administered orgasms for so long, and now he was preaching delayed gratification? She reached forward and fisted his T-shirt. “You need to lose the clothes, pretty boy.”

“But I’m not done painting you.” He pulled the brush back and with a flourish spun it around so the bristles pointed away from her. “I’m feeling inspired.”

She was wide open for him, and he dipped the smooth handle of the brush into her. She was so slick, it entered easily. The handle was thin but she felt every millimeter slide into her as he gently moved it forward. When he began carefully pumping it in and out, she had to grab his shoulders to anchor herself against the rush of pleasure. Especially when he began pressing on her clit with his thumb. She let out an involuntary moan.

“I have to feel you,” he said. He pulled the brush out and tossed it aside before thrusting a finger in her. It was warmer and thicker than the brush. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he said.

“It’s been a long time,” she tried to say. But the words came out garbled because there was only him and his finger penetrating her, stretching her.

“I’m adding another,” he said just as he slid a second finger into her. It was pleasure spiced with a little bit of pain as her body adjusted.

“Breathe,” he said.

But how was she supposed to do that when he began thrusting, using his other hand to rub her clit? She became a desperate thing as her body moved on its own accord, thrusting her hips up, her hands clenching on the worn cotton of his T-shirt, pleasure sending her higher. Her muscles seized, the walls of her vagina clamping down on his fingers, as she went up in flames. The orgasm crashed over her, waves of ecstasy rippling through her body. Nothing the tepid, businesslike orgasms from her vibrator had prepared her for.

When she finally came down, Will was there to catch her. He pulled her into his arms as she trembled with the aftershocks.

She tugged weakly at his shirt. “Lose this.”

He stood up, fisted the hem of his shirt, and peeled it upwards, revealing a flat stomach and then a muscled chest before pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Then he shucked his jeans and boxers to stand naked before her. His cock was as perfect as the rest of him. Hard and thick, jutting out from his body.

He held out his hand and she took it, coming up to stand on unsteady legs. He led her to his bedroom, which was exactly how she’d seen it on that video chat that seemed so long ago now. At this moment, she couldn’t conceive of a time when he hadn’t been in her life.

She lay down on his bed while he rummaged in his nightstand drawer. He pulled out a condom, quickly unwrapping it and sheathing himself in one smooth motion. She held out her arms, wanting to feel the press of his body against hers.

Instead of coming to lie down on top of her, he gently parted her knees and settled between her thighs. He pressed a kiss to her mound, then used his fingers to part her folds. His tongue flicked out to tap delicately on her clit before swirling around it, each lick bringing her higher, as though she hadn’t just had the most explosive orgasm of her life.

Her heart beat faster, the blood whooshing through her veins as he suckled and licked and teased. She rubbed the bottom of her feet against the bedspread as her skin prickled. She couldn’t stop herself from grinding up against his mouth, her greedy body desperate for another release.

Higher and higher his devilish mouth took her until she was once again perched on the dizzying edge. Pleasure ricocheted throughout her body until she thought she couldn’t bear any more. Her body began to spasm but he continued to suck her throbbing clit until the unbelievable happened. Instead of dissipating, the waves began building again.

He released her clit and moved up her body until they were face to face, with his weight balanced on his elbows. Lining his cock up against her entrance, he moved his hips forward. She gasped when the tip stretched her tight entrance. Barely inside her, he halted and lowered his forehead to hers. With a thrust of her hips, she pushed up, causing him to slide another inch inside with a burn that was more pleasure than pain.

He was breathing heavily now and she knew it was from the effort of holding back. He flexed his hips and lodged a little more in her. It was so good, but she wanted it all. She pressed upward and hooked her legs around his hips, pulling him forward. He slammed all the way home, knocking the air from her lungs.

She could feel every thick hard inch of him inside of her, filling all her empty spaces.

“Are you all right?” he asked, picking his head up and brushing back a strand of her hair.

“You feel so good,” she told him without a trace of shame.

It was enough to spur him into action. He moved his hips and she gasped. His first few strokes were long and slow, but soon he gathered speed. She met him on every thrust as he slammed into her hard and fast and deep, churning the waves pounding inside her higher and higher. She wrapped her arms around him and hung on as he drove her relentlessly into another orgasm, her vagina clenching around his cock.

This time when she came, he followed. She pulled him down to her as his body shuddered.

When he rolled off her onto his back, she leaned up on an elbow. “I won,” she said with a cheeky grin. “Score is two to one.”

“Just give me a minute to recover and we’ll have a rematch,” he said.

Chapter Ten

Will woke up before his alarm clock. The early morning light peeking through the blinds illuminated Elizabeth sleeping peacefully in his bed, blonde hair streaming across his pillow. He slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to disturb her with the almost overwhelming urge to whistle.

Heading for the shower, he reconsidered waking her up so he could ask her to join him. But she probably needed her sleep. They’d worked each other over pretty good last night. Maybe he’d go get bagels and coffee and surprise her with breakfast in bed.

He walked back into the bedroom, towel slung around his hips, to find Elizabeth sitting upright in his bed, blinking owlishly. It would have been funny except the covers had fallen to her waist, leaving her bare-breasted. His body tightened at the sight. Screw bagels, she could be his breakfast in bed.

She looked over at the clock. “I’m going to be late!” She dashed out of bed, just a pale streak shooting past him.

He followed her into the living room where she was wiggling into her jeans.

“Can’t believe I fell asleep,” she was muttering to herself.

“Coffee?” he asked.

She looked at him for the first time and swallowed. “That’s not fair,” she said. She made a waving gesture at his body. “All of that.” She dashed out the door before he could respond.

“I guess morning sex isn’t happening,” he said to himself.

The list of party venues sat on the coffee table where he’d dropped it last night. He snatched it up. Today would be a good day to finish the party planning. It would give him something to distract himself with while he was counting down the hours until he saw her again.

He found himself whistling as he got dressed. Because last night had been so much more than just sex. Last night had been real.

* * *

Elizabeth hadn’t woken up in someone else’s bed since super low-rise jeans were still in fashion. She rushed from Will’s apartment in a panic that she wasn’t sure was all being late for work related. The ticket on the windshield of her car for parking overnight without a resident sticker seemed like a judgment from the universe. Not for being slutty, because she didn’t play that shame game, but for not being strong enough to take her pleasure and then take her leave.

Thankfully, she’d worked enough night shifts to have extra scrubs, deodorant, and a toothbrush in her locker. She changed quickly and booked it to the nurses’ station. Cindy was sitting behind the desk when she got there. They chatted while Elizabeth got herself situated. She was only half paying attention to the conversation when something Cindy said caught her.

“You’re taking a whole month off after your wedding?” Elizabeth asked.

“I’ve got the time saved up. We’re going do some traveling. I haven’t had a vacation since I went to visit my mom in Florida last December.”

Elizabeth had taken Megan to visit colleges before she’d decided on UMass last year. But other than that, she couldn’t recall the last time she went anywhere. She’d wanted to travel, to have adventures. That’s what she should be doing.

She pushed the thought of taking Will with her out of her mind. He’d become too important too fast. She should get away now while she still could. Within a few days, she probably wouldn’t even remember his name.

“I’ve been thinking about taking some time off, too,” she said to Cindy.

The rest of her shift was crazy enough that she didn’t have time to think about Will even if she wanted, which she definitely didn’t want to. She didn’t look at her phone until she was safely home that night, wearily stirring a pot of chicken noodle soup from a can simmering on the stovetop. She shifted her weight from one sore foot to another and checked her missed calls. One from Megan. No one else.

She stirred her soup too hard and a few drops spilled on the burner and hissed. Maybe her initial fears about Will had been true. He was a player, but now that he’d won, he didn’t want to play anymore. She told herself that it was a relief to just get it over with instead of still worrying about when it was going to happen. She stirred her soup harder, liquid sloshing over the sides of the pot, before abruptly snapping the burner to off. She wasn’t hungry.

Instead, she called Megan. “Hey!” she said brightly when Megan answered. “How’s school going?”

“You sound weird,” Megan said. “Did you drink too much hospital coffee?”

“Can’t I be in a good mood? Just tell me about how school’s going.”

“I’ve got, like, my first chemistry test on Monday, so I’m going to study with my lab partner this weekend.”

“You’re making a friend. That’s great.”

“Whatever,” Megan said. “Don’t get all overly enthusiastic. It’s kind of sad.”

“I’ll stop being overly enthusiastic when you stop being too cool to care.”

Megan gave a put-upon sigh but then added, “I did start hanging out with some girls on my floor. They’re okay.”

Megan was beginning to build her new life. These next four years would transform her from girl to woman. Elizabeth’s job was done. She’d always be Megan’s sister and love her, but Megan wouldn’t need her as much anymore. She’d succeeded.

She kept her voice cheerful as tears stung the corners of her eyes. “That sounds great. So, what would you say if I went away for a little while? I’m thinking about taking a road trip. Since you’re going to be busy with classes and I’ve got lots of vacation time, I thought now would be a good time.”

“Is this some On the Road Jack Kerouac thing?”

“You know my stance on the Beat writers.”

“Yep. Bunch of posturing male chauvinists. That feminist diatribe did not help my English grade.” Without pausing, she calmly asked, “Does your road trip have anything to do with the half-naked man in our kitchen?”

Elizabeth’s smile was beginning to hurt. “I thought we agreed not to talk about that.” After Will left that night, Megan hadn’t brought it up again.

“As you’ve always told me, silence does not equal assent. I didn’t agree. I’ve been waiting all these years to finally have something to hold over your head.”

Elizabeth cracked, unable to maintain the cheerful façade one second more. “I love you, kid.” She gripped her phone tight.

“I love you, too,” Megan replied and, even though Elizabeth couldn’t see her, she sensed Megan wasn’t rolling her eyes when she said it.

* * *

Will had spent the entire day on the phone, party planning like a motherfucker. Of course, the fact that Elizabeth had basically done all the legwork for him made the whole thing a lot easier. Still didn’t mean he wasn’t taking charge like a badass, though.

He stood in the center of the community center hall, usually the home of bingo and square dancing nights, and swung his arm out. “Look at this space,” he said to Brian and Emily. “Wicked cheap to rent and we can fit a ton of people. We’ll roll a couple kegs in, get a few party platters, a big-ass cake, and Cousin Greg can DJ. I think Mom and Dad will have way more fun than if we did something fancy.”

Emily did a slow circle. “I didn’t realize they rented this place out.”

He shot a triumphant look at Brian. See, I can try.

“This can work,” Brian said. “We’ll actually be able to fit the whole family, too.”

“Is that a good thing?” Emily asked with a wry grin.

“Okay!” Will clapped his hands. “It’s settled then. Now pony up. I need to run the deposit by tomorrow. And it’s only three weeks away, so you two are in charge of invites. I’ve done my part.”

“I’m impressed,” Emily said.

“Don’t be,” Brian said. “How much of this was Elizabeth?”

Emily’s head swiveled around so fast she had to be part owl. “Are you holding out on me? You have a lady friend?” She stabbed a finger in Brian’s chest. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“And you wonder why I never introduce anyone to you,” Will said.

“You’d have to get a date first,” Brian said with grin.

He ignored Brian’s attempts to bait him. “I’ll bring her to Mom and Dad’s party. You can meet her there,” he told Emily. He held out his hand. “Now free up some cash, losers.”

“I think I liked you better when you were lazy,” Brian said.

“Not lazy. Chill. Easy like Sunday morning.”

“That’s what it says on the bathroom wall at the Rusty Nail,” Emily said.

All in the past. He couldn’t wait to get home and call Elizabeth. Maybe she’d be able to stay over tonight. He wanted to fall asleep with her in his arms. After they’d wrecked each other, of course. And then he wanted breakfast the next morning. And maybe get her to sit for him so he could do a real portrait instead of some scribbles in a notebook.

“You coming?” Brian called. He and Emily were already walking to the door while he’d been daydreaming.

“We’re going to get burgers at Mr. Bartley’s,” Emily said.

What time did Elizabeth’s shift end? Maybe she’d want to meet them. Although, having their first official dinner with his sister and brother was a lot to ask of anyone. “I’ll meet you over there,” he said.

He dialed her number, but it went straight to voice mail. He shrugged. She must still be at work. He’d try her again after dinner. He was working all weekend, which meant spending the night at the station, so if she wasn’t able to come over tonight, it would be another three whole days before he could touch her again. Three days suddenly seemed like a lifetime.

* * *

Elizabeth couldn’t sleep. Her whole body was rigid with tension and her eyes snapped open every time she attempted to close them. At midnight, she gave up the fight and sat upright in bed. Her phone was on her nightstand. She fumbled for it without turning on the light.

He’d called her twice and texted her. The text simply said, Come over. When she’d received it, she’d almost jammed her feet in a pair of shoes and jumped in her car. She’d stopped herself, one Converse dangling from her fingers, and said out loud to the empty house, “What the hell am I doing?” She’d slept with him once and now he thought he could just snap his fingers and she’d come running like some lovesick puppy? Not happening.

She’d white knuckled it the rest of the night, trying to resist calling him or even texting. Instead, she curled up on her couch and watched television programs she couldn’t remember the plots to and ate popcorn that tasted like sawdust in her mouth. She’d turned the volume up high on the TV, attempting to drive away the oppressive silence, but the house still echoed with stillness.

Now, sitting in the inky darkness and unable to sleep, it crossed her mind that maybe she could sell the house. Megan was gone and it was too much space for one person. The thought immediately produced a sick pit in her stomach of guilt. Like she was betraying her parents. This was their house.

She remembered being young and helping her mother dust the china displayed in the enormous glass front hutch in the dining room. Her mother’s voice cautioning her to be careful because pretty things could be more fragile than they appeared.

That china and that hutch still sat in the dining room. Was she just supposed to get rid of them like they weren’t important? Was she supposed to just pretend her parents hadn’t existed?

She got out of bed, and even though there was no one there to wake up, she still tiptoed down the hall to her parents’ bedroom. She pushed the door open. The queen bed was neatly made up and still topped with the bedspread they’d slept under. She walked in and, sitting down on the bed, picked up the book on her father’s nightstand. A Tom Clancy novel, bookmark still in it marking his place, as though he’d be back to finish reading it.

She came in here a couple of times a month just to dust, but never stayed very long. As far as she knew, Megan never came in at all. There were still clothes hanging in the closet that she’d never brought to Goodwill like she kept telling herself she would. Why hadn’t she done that one simple thing? They were gone and never coming back. The past was never returning.

She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms them, wanting her mother’s arms around her, stroking her hair, telling her everything would be all right. The dam constructed from every ounce of loneliness she’d shoved back down, every time she wanted to give in to loss but held back to be strong for Megan, every time she spackled on a smile when she wanted to scream, finally shattered. Thick hot tears tracked down her cheeks as she rocked herself back and forth like a child.

* * *

By the time Monday morning rolled around, Will, who’d spent the weekend on call at the firehouse, was sure of two things. One, he was tired of listening to dudes snore and two, Elizabeth was ghosting him. She hadn’t responded to any of his texts or returned any of his calls. It was just plain rude was what it was. If she didn’t want to see him again, then she could damn well pick up the phone and tell him. It wasn’t like it had been a one-night stand, at least not for him.

After leaving work, he managed to distract himself by keeping busy the rest of the day running around dropping money on deposits. At least the party was on track to be a success. But when he returned to his apartment that evening, he couldn’t avoid thinking about it any longer.

He could just let it go. Que sera, sera. Accept that something real with Elizabeth wasn’t going to happen. It would be so easy to just let the current carry him where it would, to not fight, to just float away from her and the frustration of banging himself against her rocks.

Or maybe it was time he began swimming.

As much as he hated to admit it, Brian was right. He was so used to things just working out for him that he never even tried to fight. Just shrugged his shoulders and moved on. He’d never experienced real pain or loss, just a charmed, carefree existence as the youngest child of a loving family.

Not like Elizabeth. Everyone she’d ever loved had left. No wonder she was skittish.

He was giving up too easily. And he hadn’t just given up on Elizabeth. He opened his bedroom closet door. Canvases stacked up against each other. Some he’d recycle and paint over, but some...maybe he should at least try to see if they might have value to another person. What was the worst that could happen? He’d end up with a closet full of unwanted paintings.

He opened his top dresser drawer. He’d shoved the gallery owner’s business card in the back behind his socks. The cardstock felt substantial in his hand and the lettering was embossed. He traced a finger over the writing. Karen Shelby, Owner, Newberry Art Gallery.

He found his phone and dialed the number. “Hi, is this Karen? This is Will MacGregor, Emily MacGregor’s brother. I’m an artist.” It felt weird to say that out loud. Almost like he was trying on a jacket that he wasn’t sure would fit him. “Emily mentioned that you might be interested in viewing some of my work.” His heart was racing faster than when he’d kissed Brianna Sullivan behind the bleachers back in eighth grade.

Karen’s voice was professional but warm. “As I told Emily, I’m happy to view your work. I can’t make promises, but if you have any pieces I’m interested in, I’d like to put them on consignment in my gallery. I’m always looking for new local artists.”

They agreed on a time for Karen to check out his work and Will hung up feeling as though something more significant than the possibility of selling a few paintings had just happened.

And maybe he owed it to himself to hash things out with Elizabeth instead of just drifting away. If she didn’t want to talk to him, then he’d be no worse off than he was now.

Because now was like someone had punched a hole in his chest and was squeezing his heart in their meaty fist. Now sucked.

Chapter Eleven

Elizabeth leaned against the wall in the hospital locker room and listened to Will’s voice mail again. She’d picked her phone up with the intention of deleting it, just like she’d meant to delete it the last five times she’d played it. Instead, she listened to his voice, cursing her weakness.

“Hi, Elizabeth. I dare you to pick up the phone and call me back.”

Her finger hovered over delete but instead brought up her contacts list and hit Megan’s number. Megan answered on the fourth ring. In the background, she could hear female voices and laughter. “I can’t talk right now,” Megan said. “We’re going to watch the boys’ soccer team practice.” More laughter, and then Megan added, “Some of us are going to watch the girls’ soccer team.”

“Sounds like you’re making friends.” Which was all she’d wanted for Megan, so it was ridiculous that she felt a momentary pang of hurt that Megan didn’t need her.

“I am. Gotta run. Love you,” Megan said.

“Love you, too,” Elizabeth answered, but Megan had already hung up.

She sighed and put her phone back in her locker. She slung her stethoscope around her neck and swung the locker door shut with a clang.

An amused masculine voice behind her made her jump. “What did that locker door ever do to you?” Will asked.

She spun around. “What are you doing in here?” Her pulse raced at his nearness.

“I stopped at the nurses’ station. They pointed me this way. When’s your shift over?”

“Eight o’clock,” she said, too flustered by his presence not to answer.

“I’ll be in the coffee shop in the lobby.”

“What makes you think I’ll come?” she asked with false bravado. It was supposed to come out arch and teasing, to move them back to the safety of light flirtation. Instead, she just sounded defensive.

“This,” he said. He pulled her against his body and kissed her. It was a light, firm kiss almost as quickly ended as begun, but her head was still spinning when he released her. “I’ll wait, but not forever,” he said.

When he left the room, she sat down on the wooden bench and pressed her hand to her heart. It was racing as though she had heart palpitations. It took a few moments of deep breathing for her to center herself enough to return to the floor.

When Cindy, who was at the nurses’ station, asked her if she was feeling all right because she looked pale, she gave her a brilliant smile. “Never better,” she said. “Bring on the chaos.”

She was in the midst of plucking shards of glass from a sensitive part of a patient’s anatomy when she’d come to the decision. She was going to meet Will for coffee and tell him that she was leaving. She’d be gone for at least a month on an epic road trip adventure. Nothing but the open road and freedom.

She gripped her tweezers tighter. “Ouch!” her patient yelped.

“Sorry,” she said. She’d dug a little too hard on that last one. “Almost done.”

Just like her and Will. She took a deep breath and steadied her suddenly shaky hands.

* * *

Will nursed his second cup of coffee, feeling like an idiot. She wasn’t going to come. He’d put himself out there and she’d decided he wasn’t worth more than a piece of ass. This was the part where he was supposed to feel better because he’d at least tried for a change. He took a swallow of his cold coffee and grimaced. He wasn’t feeling better.

A voice sounded from above him. “I think they leave their coffee on the burner too long,” Elizabeth said. She gave him a transparent smile, but the happy happy joy joy routine wasn’t tricking him anymore. She wasn’t any more unaffected by their separation than he was.

She’d changed out of her scrubs and into jeans and, in deference to the new chill in the air, a sweater. In the past week, the last remnants of summer had faded.

“You want to go somewhere else? We could go to my place,” he offered, even though he knew she wouldn’t take him up on it. And he didn’t know who he was fooling, not himself, because if they went back to his place, talking wouldn’t be happening for a while. It’d been too long since he’d been inside her.

She glanced around the coffee shop, at the other patrons that lingered, sipping coffee and eating muffins. “Let’s go,” she said, to his surprise.

They took his truck, leaving her car in the hospital lot. Ostensibly because parking in his neighborhood was a bitch, but deep down he knew he’d insisted because he wanted her to stay at his side. They were both quiet on the ride over, which was new. But he didn’t want to joke or tease or say something to lighten the mood. This wasn’t the quiet of two people with nothing to say, but the quiet of things yet to be spoken.

He looked over at her. She gave him a half smile before resting her hand on his thigh. She might as well have placed it right on his cock for his body’s reaction. He gripped his hands tighter on the wheel and focused on making it home in one piece.

* * *

When she walked into the coffee shop, it was only to say that she’d enjoyed their time together but it was over now. Unfortunately, her traitorous body hadn’t signed on to that plan. The moment she’d set eyes on him all she could think about was touching, and tasting, and feeling. Of flexing muscles and burning green eyes as he drove himself inside her. Just one more time, her body cried out.

When he wedged his truck into a spot in front of his building, she’d jumped out before he’d even turned the engine off. He fumbled for his keys at the front door and she couldn’t resist grabbing his butt.

“You’re not making this any easier,” he said with a mock growl, and opened the door.

“It’s your fault for having a cute butt,” she said, following him into the entryway.

“That’s it,” he said, and scooped her up, making her squeal, and slung her over his shoulder in the classic fireman’s carry.

“You better not drop me on my head,” she said as he took the stairs at a fast pace. He didn’t even seem winded and she might be thin, but she was no lightweight, not at her height.

“So little faith,” he said in an even voice. “I can carry another person wearing full gear that weighs more than you. You’re not the only one who saves lives.” He managed to get his apartment door unlocked and opened without even jiggling her. He kicked it shut behind him and, instead of putting her down, carried her straight to his bedroom.

He unslung her and dropped her on the bed. “Get naked,” he ordered in a voice that turned her insides to liquid.

She wriggled out of her jeans and underwear, wrenched off her sweater, and unclipped and tossed her bra faster than if they’d been dipped in acid. He stripped without finesse, but it was still the most erotic thing she’d ever seen, especially when he pulled a condom from his nightstand and rolled it over his hard cock. She lightly stroked herself and her fingers came away slick with moisture.

“I want you inside me,” she said.

He covered her with his body and she nuzzled his neck. When she felt the head of his cock press against her entrance, she spread her legs wider to welcome him, wanting him with a need that was almost frantic. He slid in with a few shallow strokes that had her needing more.

He pulled out and she almost cried except that he quickly flipped her on her front. An arm under her stomach guided her to her knees. He entered her from behind, drawing a startled gasp. He was so deep inside her, his throbbing cock pulsing against her walls. He moved, slamming into her, and a guttural moan erupted from her throat. Again and again he pounded, so deep and thick, his cock rubbing against her clit on every stroke until she thought she couldn’t take any more.

And then he leaned forward, draping himself over her while continuing to thrust. One hand snaked around her body and his fingers found her clit. He rubbed it in a rhythm that matched his pounding cock.

She spiraled higher and higher to teeter on the precipice. She was a being of pure sensation, the only reality the weight and heat of his body and pleasure-pain of his relentless penetration, and the clever fingers rubbing her engorged clit. Until her body tensed, muscles locking, her vagina clamping down on his cock as she orgasmed. She felt him follow, his body tensing, and then he groaned.

They collapsed together on the bed. He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so she nestled into his body. “No, don’t fall asleep,” he said.

“Mmph,” she replied, wanting to drift away, warm in his arms and, for the moment, happy. She didn’t want reality.

He kissed her temple. “We need to talk.”

It pierced her safe bubble. Nothing good came from those words. She opened her eyes, tried to pull away, but he kept her anchored tight. “I’m trying to understand why you won’t return any of my calls. Why you don’t want to let me in?”

Her first instinct was to deny and just brush it off. She opened her mouth, but the words died. She turned her head away from eyes that saw too much.

“I get it. You’re scared,” he said in a gentle voice. “You lost your parents. That sucks.” He ran a hand through his hair. “That more than sucks. I can’t even imagine—I don’t even want to think about losing my parents. And obviously it’s left a mark. You were scared to lose anyone else. You made Megan your whole life because that was safe. Not only did you lose your parents, but you lost everything. Your friends, boyfriend, the future you thought you were going to have. And now Megan’s gone too.”

She sat up. “Megan’s going because I want her to. I want her to have a future.”

He propped himself up on an elbow. “The future you missed out on?”

“My life is fine.” She snatched her sweater from off the floor and pulled it over her head. Fished her jeans from the end of the bed and wriggled back into them.

Will seemed unconcerned with his nudity, not bothering to put his clothes back on. “Except for the part when you’re so afraid of losing anyone else that you’re running away from something real,” he said. “We’re good together and we could be great.” His voice held a conviction that felt like an icepick to her heart, the pain was immediate. She didn’t want to hurt him. Why couldn’t he just accept that she wasn’t relationship material?

In desperation, she lashed out. “You have some ego. Maybe I just don’t want to be with you.”

“I don’t believe that.” His voice remained calm and steady.

“No, because you’re so full of yourself you can’t conceive of someone not wanting you.”

“You want me. I think we just proved that.”

She fumbled for her shoes, but couldn’t answer him. What could she say? He was right. She did want him. And she wished to God she didn’t. Her vision was growing blurry and she blinked, trying to clear it. Lately, it was as though every tear she hadn’t cried had just been backed up waiting to fall. If she started crying again, it could be years before she stopped. She had no time for that sort of self-indulgent bullshit.

She blinked again and turned to face him with a smile. “You’re a fantastic guy. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”

“What if I just want you?”

“I have to go.” She ran to the door with her shoes in her hand. She didn’t look back. She was too weak to face the damage she’d done. She just wanted to keep running. If she ran fast enough and far enough, nothing would ever hurt her again.

* * *

Will had done it. He’d told her how he felt and she’d taken off like the hounds of hell were on her heels. He’d always imagined that when he told a woman he cared about her after they had mind-blowing sex that more mind-blowing sex would occur. Not that she’d be horrified.

He trudged to the shower to clean himself up and rubbed his chest against the ache he felt. “Fuck you, Brian, and your terrible advice,” he said out loud.

Trying was overrated.

Chapter Twelve

For the following two weeks Elizabeth had kept herself busy working double shifts and meticulously planning every detail of her trip. She’d worked out everything from tourist attractions, roadside diners, and quaint bed-and-breakfasts right down to creating the perfect music playlists for each leg of her journey. She’d decided that she’d lived long enough without seeing the Grand Canyon. It was on the other side of the country, but she had plenty of time to get there. No reason to rush back to Boston. She could stretch the trip out for as long as she had the time off and the money.

Her car had been serviced, she’d bought old-school maps to augment her GPS, she decided what clothes to take, and she even bought trip snacks. There was nothing left to do but leave. Even Megan didn’t need her to stay.

She’d just finished changing out of her scrubs when Priya entered the locker room. “You want to go get dinner?” she asked. “I’ve been on call since noon yesterday. I haven’t eaten anything except chips from the vending machine today. Brian brought me dinner last night, but he’s working tonight.”

“I know what Brian brought you,” she teased. There weren’t many secrets in a hospital and the fact that Dr. Shah liked to have quickies with her boyfriend was too juicy not to have made the rounds.

“A girl has needs,” Priya said. “So, tacos?”

“Tacos are life.”

They walked over to the small Mexican restaurant two blocks away. Priya waited until Elizabeth had dug into her carne asada and was halfway through her margarita before bringing up the subject of Will. Which was exhibiting super powers of restraint since Elizabeth could see the questions hovering on the tip of Priya’s tongue since the moment they’d sat down.

“Seen Will lately?” Priya asked with forced casualness.

“Haven’t you talked to Brian about it already?”

“Brian doesn’t know anything. Will’s clammed up.”

Elizabeth took a healthy swallow of her margarita, instantly regretting it when the ice gave her a cold freeze headache. Served her right.

Priya wasn’t deterred by silence, she kept right on going. “You’ve seemed off these last few weeks, too. Like you’re about to break. And this trip?”

“You know I’ve wanted to travel. I couldn’t because of Megan.” Her voice sounded overly defensive event to her own ears.

“It seems a lot less like traveling and a lot more like running away.”

She needed to get dumber friends.

“Are you at least going to the MacGregors’ party tomorrow night before you leave?” Priya asked. “Will’s about to break an arm patting himself on the back, but I know you did a lot of work on that.”

“I don’t think I’d be welcome.” There was no way Will would want to see her. She’d taken his feelings and flung them back in his face. She’d been like a hurt and cornered animal snapping viciously at the person who wanted to help her.

“Whatever happened between you and Will, we won’t take sides. And it could be a good opportunity to clear the slate. Maybe you guys can start over as friends?”

“I don’t know if that’s possible.” There was no way she could be around him and not want more. But at the same time, she was too much of a coward to be more. She’d thrown up excuse after excuse as to why she couldn’t be with him.

“If not for Will, then come to be moral support for me. My family will be there.”

“That’s great. That must mean things are going well with you.” Despite her own personal drama, she felt genuinely happy for Priya. Priya had been estranged from the family she loved for too long, all over lies told when she was teenager. Not much younger than Megan was now. And you were never too old to not need your parents.

“It’s never going to be like it was,” Priya said. “But I’m hoping that maybe things can be better. I was always hiding myself from them, trying to be perfect. But now maybe I can have a relationship with my parents and with my brother as myself, warts and all.”

“I’m really happy for you. Really.” It was selfish to turn Priya’s happiness into a requiem on losing her family, and she pushed back the ache from fruitlessly wishing her mother were here and she could talk to her one more time. “What are Will’s—Brian’s parents like? I’m assuming your parents haven’t met them yet.”

“Not yet. They’ve met Brian on a handful of occasions and I think they’re at grudging acceptance with him. His parents are kind, funny, and welcoming, so I think they’ll all get along. My parents weren’t wrong to be angry with me. I betrayed their trust badly and it takes time to repair something like that.” She scooped a chip into the bowl of salsa and paused before putting in her mouth. “It’s never too late to change,” she said before crunching into the chip.

Elizabeth knew that last bit was directed at her. Was it too late? She wanted Will, but she was embarrassingly scared. It’d become glaringly obvious that she’d never actually dealt with the loss of her parents, and as Will pointed out, she’d also lost her friends and her imagined future along with them. She’d just pushed it down to fester all these years.

But maybe she could start by just telling Will that he’d been right. She was scared. “I’ll go,” she said with a decisive nod. She instantly felt lighter.

Priya beamed at her and Elizabeth knew she’d made the right choice. It was time to stop running.

* * *

Everything was coming up Will. The party he’d planned was a success and he’d even been able to fit into the suit in the back of his closet that he’d worn to his sister’s wedding, thus negating the need for the dreaded clothes shopping. He should be happy.

He sipped his beer from a red Solo cup and watched as his father escorted his mother across the makeshift dance floor to the sound of Frank Sinatra’s crooning. Their heads were bent together and his father whispered something in his mother’s ear that made her laugh and give him a teasing swat on the shoulder. Emily and Sophia had their daughter, his feisty niece, cradled between them and were dancing her around to her obvious delight.

Despite the short notice on the invitations, the hall was packed with friends and relatives. He could pick most of his cousins out from the crowd because of the distinctive red hair. He had a feeling there must have been a bit of inbreeding somewhere back in the MacGregor family tree because that particular genetic trait had stayed consistent.

Even Priya’s family had come. They were standing in the corner with his brother, who was obviously trying very hard to charm them, his hands weaving about as he told a story. Next to him, Priya wore an expression of naked hope.

His one regret was that he’d never finished the portrait of his parents. Instead, he’d had some old photos of them blown up to poster size and hung them around the hall. The cake was three tiers of flowered buttercream perfection, currently in danger from his Uncles Joe and Mike, who were arm wrestling way too close to it. Will was about to intercede and tell them to relocate when his attention was caught by a new entrant. The last person in the world he expected to see strolled through the door like she was walking onto the red carpet to collect her Oscar for Best Actress.

He halted in his tracks. She bestowed a wide smile upon him as she glided his way on high heels wearing a short dress. Her legs were his Kryptonite. What was she even doing here?

When she reached him, she gave him a long, assessing look and licked her lips. “I’m Elizabeth,” she said. “On a scale of one to America, how free are you tonight?”

It was so unexpected that he had to laugh. “Touch my shirt,” he said. She raised an eyebrow but did what he asked. “Feel that? It’s boyfriend material.” If they were playing bad pickup lines, he played to win.

She gave him that dirty, mischievous smile he loved. “Are you from FedEx? Because I’d sign for that package.”

He deliberately licked his finger. Slowly, he leaned forward keeping eye contact with her the whole time to touch the strap of her ridiculously sexy silver dress. “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”

In a husky voice, she said, “Big sale in my bedroom right now. Clothes are one-hundred percent off.”

It was so easy to get sucked back into the fun and teasing with her, but he reminded himself that he wanted more. “Are you trying to woo me with these lines? Because if you’re not all the way in, then this isn’t going to work. I want to have fun with you, but I also want something real.”

Her expression was serious and she took a deep breath, seemingly bracing herself. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You were right. I was—am scared. But I like you. And being with you is fun and exciting and all those things I told myself couldn’t happen in a relationship.”

“Just promise me that if you’re going to freak out that you talk to me first.”

“I don’t freak out. Much.”

“Want to try that again?”

“I won’t run.” She said it in a way that sounded like a promise.

“I get to meet Megan. With my clothes on this time.”

“You drive a very hard bargain.”

“That’s not the only hard thing I drive.” He tried to wiggle his eyebrows, but from her expression he didn’t think it was successful.

She held up a finger. “One thing,” she said. “I’m taking a road trip. I was planning on leaving tomorrow. I want to see the Grand Canyon.”

“An adventure,” he said.

“Exactly.”

“Are we talking the open road, greasy spoon diners, and tacky tourist attractions like the biggest ball of twine or Stonehenge made out of old cars?”

“Yes. You get it.”

“I’m in.”

Her face lit up. “You’d want to do that?”

“Of course, I’d want to do that. I’ve never seen the Grand Canyon either. One thing, though. Can we put it off a week? I’m going to need to arrange some time off.”

Her answer was to twine her arms around his neck and kiss him until he felt it all the way down to his toes.

When they broke, he found himself grinning like an idiot. “There’s another reason I need the extra time,” he said, wanting to share everything with her. “There’s this art gallery that’s going to hang some of my paintings.”

She hugged him tight. “That’s wonderful! It’s a good thing I saved that sketch of me you did the night we met. It’s going to make me rich one day.”

“You kept that?”

“Of course I did. It’s amazing. You’re amazing. I should have said yes the first time you asked me to dinner.”

The nice thing about Elizabeth in heels was that he didn’t have to bend his head to whisper in her ear. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to say yes tonight. You can even scream yes.”

“Yes,” she said.

* * *

Elizabeth was happy. Truly happy. Not the “put a smile on and pretend” that she’d been doing, but deep down in the core of her being she felt warm and wonderful and maybe that was the kiss. Will was kissing her back with skillful enthusiasm. And she knew she could have it both ways—someone special and fun. There would be no sacrifices with Will.

Someone was clearing their throat pointedly behind her. She pulled away from Will, and whirled around. An older gentleman with Will’s eyes was smiling broadly. “You going to introduce me to your friend, son?” he asked.

Will didn’t look at all embarrassed to be caught making out with a strange woman in front of his father. “Dad, this is Elizabeth,” he said.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said hastily, holding out her hand.

He took her hand in his, but instead of shaking it, he gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s good to finally meet you, Elizabeth. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Will was looking at his dad with a question mark on his face.

“Your brother and sister have big mouths,” his dad said in response. He released her hand and said, “I’m glad you could come. I hear you planned this party.”

“It was Will,” she said. “I only helped.”

“Well, it’s fantastic.” He turned to Will. “Aren’t you going to ask her to dance?”

“I was just about to,” Will said. He extended an arm to her. “Shall we?”

“Yes,” she said. In her heart she added, yes, yes, yes. Yes to life, yes to taking chances, yes to a new adventure.

“I think my parents would have liked you,” she said as he swung her onto the dance floor and pulled her back into his arms.

As they swayed to Frank Sinatra, she felt as though something had just changed. Another fall, another new life. This new path was opening in front of her and she would boldly take that first step.

But not alone.

* * * * *

Acknowledgments

Thanks to my editor, Mackenzie Walton, for her endless patience and for knowing how to take a good story and make it great.

Also available from Jules Court
and Carina Press

Hot in the City
Enticing the Enemy

About the Author

Jules Court is a Boston-area native currently living in Oregon with her husband and dog, where the coffee more than makes up for the nine months of constant rain. She’s a recovering attorney who wrote her first romance novel while she was supposed to be studying for the bar. When not writing, she enjoys reading, running, hiking, watching movies, playing with her neurotic dog and baking vegan cupcakes. You can find her at www.julescourt.com.

Introducing the Carina Press Romance Promise!

The Carina Press team all have one thing in common: we are romance readers with a longtime love of the genre. And we know what readers are looking for in a romance: a guarantee of a happily-ever-after (HEA) or happy-for-now (HFN). With that in mind, we’re initiating the Carina Press Romance Promise. When you see a book tagged with these words in our cover copy/book description, we’re making you, the reader, a very important promise:

This book contains a romance central to the plot and ends in an HEA or HFN.

Simple, right? But so important, we know!

Look for the Carina Press Romance Promise and one-click with confidence that we understand what’s at the heart of the romance genre!

Look for this line in Carina Press book descriptions:

One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!

Find out more at CarinaPress.com/RomancePromise.

Find out more at CarinaPress.com.

Add these contemporary romance series to your to-read list!

EVERYTHING FOR HER
by New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Alexa Riley
Mallory Sullivan never expected Oz to be the greatest culmination of her dreams. But sometimes fate determines who you fall in love with. Who makes you lose control. Who owns your soul.
And then you realize it wasn’t fate at all...

HIS ALONE
by New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Alexa Riley
Paige Turner is trying to outrun her past, but there it is, tossed back in her face any time she manages to get two steps ahead. As soon as she is ready for revenge, her boss, Ryan Justice, gets in her way and takes her off course. Ryan will stop at nothing to make her his. Before she knows it, he has made his way into her life and into her heart...

“I devour every single delicious word Alexa Riley writes.”
—#1 New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Maya Banks

ROUGH & TUMBLE
by Rhenna Morgan
A self-made man with his fingers in a variety of successful businesses, Jace Kennedy lives for the challenge and he always gets what he wants. From the start, he sees Vivienne Moore’s hidden wild side and knows she’s his perfect match, if only he can break it free. He’s proud of who he is and where he came from, and he’ll be damned if he lets Vivienne go before showing her the safest place of all is in the arms of a dangerous man.

“Gritty, raw, and a side dose of sweet lovin’. ROUGH & TUMBLE by Rhenna Morgan will warm your heart and melt your panties.”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Audrey Carlan (Calendar Girl series)

“A must-read!”
—RT Book Reviews, 5 stars, Top Pick!

ACT LIKE IT
by Lucy Parker
Richard Troy used to be the hottest actor in London, but the only thing firing up lately is his temper. We all love to love a bad boy, but Richard’s antics have made him Public Enemy Number One, breaking the hearts of fans across the city. Have the tides turned? Has English rose Lainie Graham made him into a new man?

HOT IN THE CITY
by Jules Court
The first time Detective Brian MacGregor met Priya Shah, he was bleeding. He didn’t expect to feel a gut punch of lust for the beautiful ER doc. And even if the hot ginger cop seems like the perfect solution to Priya’s summer dry spell, they both have more important things to worry about. Like finding Priya’s cousin before the murderer does. They just need to keep their hands off each other until then.

Grab your copies now!

Connect with us for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers and much more!

Visit CarinaPress.com

Other ways to keep in touch:

Facebook.com/CarinaPress
Twitter.com/CarinaPress
CarinaPress.com/newsletter

Want to break more rules with the Haven Brotherhood?
Then don’t miss these sexy titles from

Rhenna Morgan

ROUGH & TUMBLE
A self-made man with his fingers in a variety of successful businesses, Jace Kennedy lives for the challenge and he always gets what he wants. From the start, he sees Vivienne Moore’s hidden wild side and knows she’s his perfect match, if only he can break it free. He’s proud of who he is and where he came from, and he’ll be damned if he lets Vivienne go before showing her the safest place of all is in the arms of a dangerous man.

“Gritty, raw, and a side dose of sweet lovin’. ROUGH & TUMBLE by Rhenna Morgan will warm your heart and melt your panties.”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Audrey Carlan (Calendar Girl series)

“A must-read!”
—RT Book Reviews, 5-Star Top Pick

WILD & SWEET
Zeke Dugan is not a man who walks the straight and narrow. He may have sworn an oath as a trauma doc, but he has zero problem leveraging his medical skills outside a hospital if it means giving the Brotherhood—the group of men he calls family—an advantage. Blood before business. All that changes when shy Gabrielle stumbles into his life and ignites his protective instincts.

CLAIM & PROTECT
Trevor Raines lives on the edge of legal. A good guy doing bad things to save lives, the only rules he follows are the Brotherhood’s, and there’s nothing in the world that will change that. That is, until Natalie Jordan walks into his life. She’s a woman with a plan, and the plan doesn’t include a man with secrets, no matter how kind—or intoxicating—he is. Trevor has no interest in settling down, but there’s something entirely too appealing about the woman he can’t stay away from.

Order your copy now!

Connect with us for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers and much more!

Visit CarinaPress.com

Other ways to keep in touch:

Facebook.com/CarinaPress
Twitter.com/CarinaPress
CarinaPress.com/newsletter

We think you have a good book in you!

Do you write in the below genres? Harlequin’s Carina Press wants to see your manuscript.

• Contemporary Romance
• Romantic Suspense
• Historical Romance
• Paranormal Romance
• Mystery
• Erotic Romance
• LGBT
• Science Fiction & Fantasy Romance

Submit today!

All manuscripts receive a thorough evaluation by a Carina Press editor and a decision within 12–16 weeks. What do you have to lose?

To learn more about our submission guidelines, visit us at CarinaPress.com/WriteForUs.

ISBN-13: 9781488024542

Tease Me Tonight

Copyright © 2017 by Jules Court

All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

www.CarinaPress.com