Bachelor Number Four (expanded)

Ladies, start your search engines…

The closest Arden Walsh has been to a naked male booty in over a year and a half is a DVD ogling session with her friend Lida’s “posse.” Not that anyone could blame a widow with two young daughters. At this stage in her life, a relationship is not in the picture. A little hot sex? Definitely. After another disaster date leaves more than a bad taste in her mouth, she has to admit it. The only man worth black stilettos and red lipstick is the one for whom she once threw caution to the wind, and never since—not even for her husband. Twelve years, and she can still taste the bittersweet memory of Shane Donner. In a keystroke, a search engine connects the past with the present. As sparks fly from her fingertips to his, she begins to wonder if a screen full of seduction is enough to forge a future.

This title was previously published but has been revised and expanded for Samhain Publishing.

Warning: Contains explicit language, sexual content, not-safe-for-work instant messages, and fantasizing about Keanu Reeves and the hero (but not at the same time!).

eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B Cincinnati OH 45249 Bachelor Number Four Copyright © 2011 by Megan Hart ISBN: 978-1-60928-506-7 Edited by Lindsey Faber Cover by Kanaxa All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Original Copyright: 2006 First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: August 2011 www.samhainpublishing.com

Bachelor Number Four Megan Hart

Chapter One

“I swear, I love my husband, but sometimes I just want to kill him.” Utter silence filled the room that only moments before had been filled with the sounds of laughter and crunching popcorn. Barb, the woman who’d spoken, flushed. Arden Walsh froze with a chocolate sandwich cookie halfway to her mouth as every face in the room turned toward her. Did they want her to say something? Do something? She forced herself to eat the cookie as Lida, bless her, reached for the remote and rewound the scene, then used the remote to zoom in on the luscious backside displayed on the TV. “Ewan McGregor has the finest ass in the universe, I swear. He wouldn’t even have to knock on my door. I’d catch him while he was still standing in the driveway.” The room rocked with laughter. While moments before the continuous chuckling and innuendo-filled comments had sounded sincere, now they rang false. No wonder, Arden thought, turning her determined attention toward the film, which sadly was no longer showing naked male booty. What kind of downer was a widow on Ladies’ Night anyway? “I need another drink. Anyone else?” She got up from the plaid couch and looked around brightly, ice cubes clinking in her glass. A chorus of “No” greeted her, and she was glad because that meant she could take the trip to the kitchen by herself, eyes burning with unshed tears, throat clogged so tight she wouldn’t have been able to make small talk had she tried. In Lida’s disorderly kitchen she found the pitcher of sangria and filled her glass. She didn’t really want the booze. It made her melancholy. She swirled the soggy fruit around in the bottom of the glass for a moment before dumping it down the sink. She’d be better off with diet soda. Rooting around in the freezer, Arden took the time to press a handful of ice against her eyes. The cubes burned, but not as badly as the tears had. At least that pain stopped when she took the ice away. “Cucumbers work better for that than cubes.” Lida parked her butt at the kitchen table to scoop up a chip full of taco dip. “Mmm. Man, this stuff is fabulous. Try some.” Arden shook her head and sipped from the soda. Lida tilted her head. “Barb didn’t mean what she said out there. At least…she didn’t mean to say it in front of you.” “I know.” Arden sighed and looked back into the living room, where the ladies were now hooting and hollering over a scene featuring another naked celebrity. “Don’t worry about it. I think they felt worse about her saying it than I did.”

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“You’re missing the movie.” “Yeah, which is sad, since it’s the closest I’ve been to a naked male behind in a long time. I know.” Arden tried to shrug her comment off, but it came out sounding too sad. Lida let out one of her throaty, delightful laughs that had always made men’s toes curl. “Whose fault is that?” Arden shook her head, emptied her glass in a hasty swallow and poured another. “Last I saw, Ewan wasn’t riding his motorcycle up and down Main Street.” “You need to be a little more realistic.” Arden fixed her eyes on her friend’s. “Lida, you know that’s not going to happen.” “Why not? You’re young. You’re gorgeous. You’re available.” Again, Arden sighed. She helped herself to some of the spicy dip and followed it with a swig of cola. “That’s…that’s not really part of my life any more.” “When’s the last time you had sex with something other than Mr. Jolly?” Arden spluttered and laughed. “Mr. Jolly?” “Or whatever you call yours.” Lida grinned slyly. “I call mine The Joystick. What can I say? Bill’s out of town a lot. What battery-operated toy do you have in your nightstand drawer?” “Um.” Arden bit her lip, but she and Lida had shared almost every secret since the seventh grade, and there was no way she’d be able to convince her friend she didn’t have any toys. “It’s a butterfly. It vibrates. And it doesn’t have a name.” “And it’s not a man.” Arden’s first sob leaked out before she could stop it, and the next hit her like a baseball bat over the head. Arden pressed her fingers to her mouth to stop them, but they refused to be held back. Tears squirted, scalding, and her throat burned like she’d swallowed hot wax. Lida’s hand pressed hers, and Arden grasped it like a drowning woman clutching at a piece of floating driftwood. Then Lida pulled Arden into her arms, rocked her like a baby, patted her back and shushed and hushed her until spent, Arden sat back. Without a word, Lida handed her a handful of tissue and a full glass of soda. “I shouldn’t have come tonight,” Arden said, voice as hoarse as a frog’s croak. “Bullshit. You should’ve come six months ago, when I invited you the first time.” “I wasn’t ready then. I’m not so sure I was ready tonight.” Arden looked back into the living room. More hooting told her they’d switched to another raunchy movie. She looked around the kitchen, overflowing with bowls of dips and chips, platters of brownies and cookies, bottles of booze and beer on every counter. “I should go home.” Lida stared at the wobbling ceiling fan for a second, then at Arden. “Why, you got a date with your butterfly?”

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Bachelor Number Four

As quickly as she’d wept, Arden burst into laughter. She and Lida guffawed and giggled, until the commotion made everyone else get up to see what was going on. “What’s so funny?” asked Marla, a divorcée in her late thirties. “Yeah, dish.” Candace popped open a beer. “It better be good because I’m missing Orlando Bloom on the big screen.” “Oh, hush…why bother? That baby boy’s got all his clothes on.” This came with a grin from Barb, who reached over to help herself to the last few scoops of taco dip. “We were just talking about Arden’s lack of sex life,” Lida said. Again, Arden broke the uncomfortable silence so she didn’t have to face it. “Really, everyone, it’s okay. We can talk about it.” Barb reached over and squeezed her hand. “Only if you want to, honey.” Grief, embarrassment, gratitude—a swirl of emotions overwhelmed Arden. She hadn’t met any of these women until tonight. All friends of Lida’s, they’d been getting together for monthly ladies’ nights for a couple of years—years Arden had lived away with her husband. She’d agreed to come with trepidation, uncomfortable at jumping into a tightly knit group, but Lida had assured her she’d fit in. And, for the most part, until the injudicious comments had ground the party to a halt, she had. In between movie scenes of their favorite actors, preferably scenes in which said actors were scantily clad or not clad at all, the other women had joked and complained about the men in their lives, or lack of men. While vocal in her appreciation of Ewan’s butt and Antonio’s abs, Arden hadn’t joined the complaints, good-natured though they were. It felt disloyal to talk about Jason, to complain about the foibles that had seemed, at the time, to be enough to make her pull out her hair, but in retrospect were laughably minor. She’d spoken proudly of her two girls, six-year-old Maeve and eight-year-old Aislin, and she’d reminisced fondly with Lida about their high school adventures. But she hadn’t said much about her husband. Now, looking around the room at the faces of these women, she took a deep breath and spoke. “I need to get laid.” For one more moment silence hung in the air like a crystal glass falling from a dish-soap slippery hand—and just like that glass hitting the floor, the silence shattered when confronted with more guffaws of female laughter. “Oh honey, don’t we all?” Gail patted her generous hips. “Work off some of this the old-fashioned way!” They were all looking at her like they expected her to say more, and to her own surprise, she did. “Jason died a year and three months ago. Um. I haven’t had sex…I guess I haven’t had sex in a year and six months. And the last time…well…” Arden took a drink, thinking of how they’d tried to make love and only been able to cuddle. “It wasn’t exactly like the movie we were watching earlier.”

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Barb nodded. “I understand, honey.” “It’s not that I haven’t thought about it,” Arden said hurriedly. “Sex, I mean.” “Obviously not, if you bought yourself a butterfly,” said Lida, eliciting a hoot of approval from the ladies gathered in the kitchen. “I’m sorry. I must be ruining the mood.” Arden stood, but the women surrounded her. “No, girl, not at all. This is Ladies’ Night. We’re here to ogle the buns of hunky men, gorge on chocolate and drink ourselves sillier than we already are. Seems to me you’re in exactly the right place.” Marla grinned and held up her plate of dessert. “And since most of us also spent a portion of the time complaining about our husbands, current and ex,” Candace put in, “I also think you’re in the right spot. Because if you don’t have a reason to be supremely pissed off with the man you married, none of us do.” Arden’s mouth dropped open, but she saved herself from looking too stupid by filling it with a mouthful of chocolate-frosted cupcake. She chased it with a swallow of diet soda. “I’m not… I can’t be… Oh, hell, you’re exactly right. I’m pissed at Jason for leaving me and the girls. I’m pissed at him for not going to the doctor sooner. I’m pissed at him because he never did learn to put his socks in the laundry, and now he never will.” Saying the words felt good, and more tumbled out of her mouth. “I’m pissed because he used to snore right through midnight diaper changes, but couldn’t seem to fall asleep if I stayed up late reading a book. He never put the toilet seat down. He called me Ardie, even though I hated it. He never hung up his ties, just left them hanging on the back of a kitchen chair. And I’m pissed because he left us. Me and Maeve and Aislin, and he’ll never see them grow up, or go to the prom, or get married. I’m pissed because he’s not here and I still am, and it’s hard to be alone.” Her voice hitched and the room swam, but this time the tears stayed away. Arden looked around at the room full of women, all of them nodding and none of them staring at her with what she’d feared most to see: pity. Empathy, yes, and compassion. But no pity. Arden took a deep breath. “It’s been a year and three months since he died. And I’ve never said any of that to anyone.” “Then I guess it’s about time you did,” Lida told her and applauded, then hugged Arden with one strong arm. “It’s okay to be mad.” “Death doesn’t make anyone perfect, even though we’d like to think they are.” This from the mostly silent Pam. An older woman with soft gray hair, she gave Arden a smile. “Are you going to cry again?” Lida handed Arden another tissue. “I don’t think so. I’m going to eat another cupcake.” The ladies gathered around her broke into another chorus of cheers. Arden stuffed her mouth with the luscious cake and patted her stomach.

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Bachelor Number Four

“And it’s been eighteen months since she had sex,” Lida announced, making Arden blush. Arden thought of her daughters, who’d become her entire life since she’d lost Jason. “I’m not ready for a relationship.” “I saw you watching Ewan’s bare ass,” said Marla, wiggling her eyebrows. “You can’t tell me you don’t want a piece of something like that.” Gail sighed and put her hand theatrically over her heart. “Who doesn’t?” “All right. If Ewan shows up at my door, I’ll let him in.” “And we all know how likely that is to happen.” Candace shook her head. “I agree with Lida. You should have no trouble at all finding a man to give you some action. You just need to pick the right one.” “Good luck with that,” grouched Gail good-naturedly. “I’ve been looking for the right one for fifteen years.” “Arden doesn’t want a boyfriend. She wants a bumpin’ uglies buddy,” quipped Barb, who ducked when Gail threw a paper napkin at her. The idea had more appeal than Arden was willing to admit out loud. “C’mon, you guys, I’m a mom. That’s not me anymore.” “A mom. Like having kids means you don’t need sex, too?” Marla shook her head. “No red-blooded straight male is going to turn you down because you’ve had kids.” Arden wasn’t vain enough to think herself a beauty or insecure enough to believe herself a beast. But a siren capable of wooing a man for the sole purpose of sex? That had never been her role. Well…maybe once… “She’s thinking about it,” said Gail triumphantly. “Look at her eyes!” “No, no,” Arden protested. “I’m not, I swear!” But she was. A face from the past had flashed in her mind. There was one time when she’d thrown caution to the wind, taken a chance. She’d played the part of the vixen in a way she’d never done since. Lida reached up and undid the clip, sending Arden’s hair tumbling around her shoulders. “Red lipstick. Black stiletto heels. We’d have you fixed up in no time.” “But what if it’s disappointing?” she asked aloud, scarcely able to believe she was even contemplating such a thing. “Do your research, silly. Don’t just leap into bed with the first Romeo who buys you a drink. Get recommendations.” Gail laughed and thrust her hips back and forth. “You’re looking for Don Juan? Ask around.” “You’re kidding.” But Arden clearly saw she wasn’t. “You said yourself, you’re not looking for a relationship. Hell, after a year of no sex, you’re practically a virgin again. Find a guy you like who’ll take the time to do you right.” Arden chuckled, snagged the clip back from Lida and pinned up her hair. “I don’t know.”

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Candace hooted. “C’mon, Arden. Isn’t there anyone you’d like to fuck who isn’t a movie star? The checkout boy at the grocery store maybe, or the UPS guy?” “Or maybe a certain dirty worker man?” Arden gasped involuntarily, like Lida had reached straight into her brain and plucked out her deepest, darkest secret. “Lida!” “He’s still around, you know,” Lida said. “I’ve seen the signs for his business.” Arden fended off the cries of “Who?” by raising her hands. “That was a long time ago, Lida.” “Twelve years isn’t that long ago.” Candace finished blending another batch of strawberry smoothies and passed out fresh cups to all the ladies. “Spill the dirt, Arden. You heard most of my sordid stories earlier tonight. It’s your turn.” Emboldened by a gulp of the frozen drink, Arden swallowed twice before answering. It couldn’t hurt to tell the story, could it? It had been a long time ago, and a lot had happened since then. “Before I met my husband, I had a fling, I guess you could call it. With a guy named Shane Donner. I met him at a friend’s house and we hit it off.” It felt like every woman in the room hung on her every word. “So, what happened?” asked Marla. Arden feigned a casual attitude she definitely didn’t feel. “We went out for a little while and then it ended.” “What she means to say is they fucked each other silly!” crowed Lida. “And after that?” Pam tipped back her cup to get the last of her drink. “You broke up?” Arden could still smell the scent of the cologne he’d favored. Could still feel the bite of the wind on her cheeks as she’d faced him. Damn, she realized as she sipped her drink, she could still taste him. “It’s kinda hard to break up something that never really got started. He wasn’t interested in having a girlfriend,” she said with a shrug. “And he made that pretty clear. So I stopped seeing him, and then I met Jason.” “And loverboy decided she was the greatest thing since sliced bread and tried to hook up with her again. Too bad, so sad.” Lida gave a hearty laugh and slapped her thigh. “Men can be so dumb.” “So why not look him up now?” Gail refilled her cup. “Things are different now. Lots different.” “I think you should call him.” Pam nodded firmly. “Sex good enough to put a blush on your face twelve years later is good enough to look up again.” “You know, the best sex I ever had was with the computer nerd who came to install my modem,” piped up Marla in a dreamy voice. “The things that man could do with his hard drive…” The room exploded with laughter, and in another five minutes Arden’s situation was forgotten as the women began swapping stories again. Relieved to no longer be the center of attention, Arden listened and

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Bachelor Number Four

laughed with her newfound friends, and when the party began to break up just as dawn was streaking the sky, she made her slightly bleary way down the street to her own little house and headed straight for bed. She paused, one hand on the newel post, her eyes going without effort toward the small alcove off the kitchen she’d turned into her home office. The computer was in there, the flat screen iMac that had become her dearest friend in the months following Jason’s death. She shopped online, kept in touch online, joined grief support groups, banked and rented movies online. She’d also, more than once, looked up names, addresses and telephone numbers on the Net. Her bed called her—her vast, empty bed—and though her eyes drooped with weariness, the thought of sliding between sheets unwarmed by a companion did not appeal to her. The girls were with Arden’s parents for the entire weekend, a treat they loved and she tolerated because she knew they loved it. Without the pull of small hands and constant childish chatter she felt more than alone. She felt lonely. However, Maeve and Aislin wouldn’t be home until Sunday morning, more than twenty-four hours from now, and she had no plans for tomorrow other than finishing up a dress she’d been commissioned to sew. She could sleep in tomorrow. The search would only take a few minutes… Her feet moved before she knew it, and her fingers found the familiar grooves of the keyboard buttons. It took her two seconds to pull up her favorite search engine, to type in his name and their town, and to get a list of possible matches. Oh. Connex. Her lip curled, just a little. Arden had a profile on the popular social media site, but she’d never even updated it and hadn’t logged in since…well, probably since shortly after Lida had encourage her to set one up as a way of keeping in touch, long-distance. That had been a long time ago. And yet there it was, the top hit. She clicked on it and logged in, surprised she even remembered how. That brought up another screen with a list of Shane Donners who had Connex accounts. She squinted, trying to see from the tiny avatar photos if she recognized any of them. She hit the jackpot on her fourth try. “Bachelor Number Four,” she murmured, looking at the screen. He had a business page, very tech-savvy of him though she guessed she shouldn’t be surprised. The world revolved around social media these days, and she’d been told often enough she should have a site for her business. Shane N. Donner, owner/operator Donner’s Specialty Construction. The page gave an address, a phone number and of course, the ability to send him an email message through his profile. First, though, she stalked his photos. Nothing too personal. Shots of homes he’d built or renovated. Projects like decks and bathrooms. No pictures of him, and she guessed that made sense since he was trying to promote his work, not his face. Then, there, one small photo of him on a job site. Dirty denim jeans, work gloves, wife-beater T-shirt, muscles and sweat and…guh. Arden swallowed hard, wishing he’d been turned toward the camera instead of half-away, showing only a part of his profile.

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The problem with sites like Connex, she thought, was that it made creeping on someone just too damned easy. Her fingers flew over the keys, typing out a message before she could think to stop herself. Something simple, bland, nonaggressive. Hi. How are you? “Will you go with me? Yes, No, Maybe, circle one,” she muttered, well-aware of how her words echoed in the empty house. “Just like in eighth grade, geez.” She hesitated before hitting send, thought of erasing the message entirely, but again the sting of winter wind slipped across her skin and the taste of smoke and bourbon made her swipe her tongue across her lips. It had been really great sex. If it had ended somewhat sourly…well, they’d been young. It was a long time ago. And there was nothing wrong, really, with just a little note? Just to say hi to an old friend? Except Shane Donner had never, not exactly, been her friend. He’d been both more and less than that, an enigma, a short-term lover who’d nevertheless rocked her world, made her laugh and made her cry. A man she’d never forgotten. With determination, Arden clicked send. She sat back and stared at the desktop wallpaper, a montage of film clips from The Matrix film trilogy. “Keanu, if you’re coming for me, you’d better hurry up. I don’t think I can save myself for you much longer.” Leaving him to ponder that, Arden went upstairs, let the shower wash away the smoke and booze and her tears. Then she slipped into her bed to find a way to make her dreams stop being nightmares.

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Chapter Two

Soft kisses whispered up Arden’s thighs, toward the apex of tight curls already moist with anticipation. She shifted to let her legs slide open, to give him access to her clit. The moment she felt the brush of his tongue, she moaned. Loud, not even embarrassed. It felt too good for her to be embarrassed. It had been so damn long. She opened herself farther, ass sliding on smooth sheets that felt like satin and, therefore, couldn’t possibly be hers. It didn’t matter. None of this did. In fact, it was better that nothing made sense, that the puzzle pieces didn’t quite fit. She was dreaming, and knowing it didn’t change how good it felt. The pleasure radiating upward from her center was better than anything her purple butterfly could give her. She used the vibrator out of desperation, for the times when sexual frustration overtook her and forced her to find release. But she always felt a little ridiculous doing it. The buzzing made her self-conscious. Now her phantom lover licked slowly at her clit, circling it with his tongue in just the way she loved. He flicked against her lightly, until her body thrummed with pleasure. Arden arched her back, her head moving from side to side on the slippery sheets, static crackling along the length of her unbound hair. A finger slipped inside her, then two, stretching. Ahh, that’s so, so good. More kisses pressed her flesh, more light tongue flicks sent her surging toward orgasm. Her thighs trembled. Ecstasy coiled between her legs, tighter and tighter, until all she needed was one more kiss, one twist of her lover’s hand, and she’d go over the edge. Unlike in real life, her dream companion was tireless and focused on her without regard to his own pleasure, and in this way the dream was also better than reality. But then, to her surprise and slight disappointment, the mouth between her legs left the place she needed it most and moved upward, over her belly (blessedly flat and unmarked with the scars of childbirth—this was, after all, her dream) to her breasts. Her clit pulsed and throbbed. Her cunt clenched on the fingers still sliding so smoothly in and out of her. She lifted her hips and rolled them. The time had come to look upon her dream lover’s face, to see who was bringing her such ecstasy. It was silly to worry about something like this in a dream, no matter how powerful and realistic, but Arden wanted to look into his eyes when she came. She tilted her head and smiled down at him as the first ripples jerked her hips and made her belly begin to jump. She expected Keanu’s almond-shaped, dark eyes, or Antonio’s sultry Latin stare, maybe

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even Ewan’s insouciant twinkle to greet her. A dream man, dream lover, fiction taken directly from the night’s big-screen adventures into her subconscious. She’d even parted her lips to laugh at the choice her mind had made. What she saw instead made her gasp so loudly she heard it beyond the veil of sleep and knew her waking self had made the noise. She swam up from the dream’s depths and fought waking, her orgasm so close she couldn’t bear to lose it, despite the shock her mind had given her. “Shane!” His black hair fell long over his shoulders. Blue-green eyes the color of the Caribbean blinked as he lifted his head from her lust-tight nipples to give her the breathtaking grin she remembered so clearly from twelve years before. “Arden,” he whispered in the same husky, rough voice she couldn’t forget, “you taste so fucking good.” And then instantly, the way it happened in dreams, his cock thrust inside her and she bore his weight on her chest while his mouth crushed her lips and his tongue plundered her. Her body clenched and relaxed. His face faded, though the sensation of his cock sliding in and out of her lasted longer. Long enough to tilt her over the edge. Orgasm exploded through her, and she woke, clit and heart pounding. Had she cried out? Sweat dampened her forehead and made strands of hair cling to her cheeks. Her thighs slid against each other, aided by the slickness of her arousal. Aftershocks rippled through her in quick succession, almost like a dozen or so mini-climaxes. Panting, Arden lay back on her pillow, mouth dry in the aftermath. “Wow.” Thank goodness her parents had the girls, so she wouldn’t have to explain any strange noises to curious little ears. Arden rolled to look at the alarm clock that had always been on Jason’s side of the bed. “Wow.” She repeated the word with a different inflection, this time, less of overjoyed wonder than amazement. She’d slept past eleven a.m. When was the last time she’d done that? College? Arden blinked and yawned, stretched out the kinks in her back and sat up. No hangover. A rumbling stomach. Clear eyes. And an immense, complete sense of full-body satisfaction she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, Arden couldn’t help smiling. Flushed cheeks. Glowing grin. The restorative powers of good sex were indeed impressive. She paused, mouth full of toothpaste foam, to look at herself again. Lida was absolutely right. She needed to get laid. She needed more than a solo session with her butterfly or a dream man’s cock. She needed real flesh against hers. Real warmth beside her.

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The small, framed photo of Jason she’d hung on the wall over the sink caught her eye, and Arden reached to touch her husband’s face. “Jay, I think it’s time.” He didn’t protest, just kept grinning, fishing rod in one hand and trophy-trout in the other. Arden searched the photo for any sign he’d disapprove. Be jealous. Hate her from Heaven or from wherever it was he’d gone. The picture, of course, could tell her nothing. Only her mind and heart could give her the encouragement and permission to move on with her life. She touched the frame again, then spit into the sink. Rinsed. Put the cap back on in the way Jason had never remembered to. “I love you, Jay,” Arden whispered, but just as he could not accuse her of infidelity, neither could he love her back any longer.

Something had happened to her overnight, something so fantastic and strange she had to keep checking her reflection to make sure she hadn’t woken with a tattoo that said Open for business on her forehead. Men—strangers—made eye contact with her in the grocery store. The gas station attendant gave her an appreciative look-over when she filled her tank. They were flirting with her! Maybe the man at the gas station had always flirted with her and she’d just been oblivious. Now Arden smiled back at him when he returned her change. She didn’t want to date him…but just seeing his interest made her look around with new eyes. Consequently, it was way easier to get a date than she’d expected. Brian Doyle had been selling Arden notions and patterns since she’d opened the sewing shop. Today, when the jingling bell announced his arrival, Arden saw more than a salesman’s smile and a nice suit, or a bag of samples and his usual gift of coffee and doughnuts. Today, Arden saw an overture. How could she have missed it for so long? The way he lingered to chat, even after she placed her order? The extra samples he routinely included? Brian was hitting on her, and probably had been for months. “I’m sorry to tell you I won’t be back here again.” Brian’s words pulled her out of her musings. “No? Why not?” It was too soon for flirting to seem natural again, but now that her eyes had opened she couldn’t seem to stop the age-old dance that happened all the time between men and women. Brian leaned on the counter. He dressed really well, she had time to note, feeling stupid she only now noticed. “They’ve changed my territory. I’m not going to cover this area anymore.” “That’s too bad.” She meant it too. Brian was a great rep. He’d always been really nice…because he’d been hitting on her. That made her smile, and when she did, he homed in on it like a fly to honey. “Listen, Arden, I know it’s short notice and all, but I was wondering if you were free tonight. For dinner.”

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He was asking her out. She’d decided to date and here he was, the first offer, like a sign. Arden knew better than to turn it down. She couldn’t. She’d lose her courage. “That sounds great.” She thought for a second. “It works out really well because my girls are both with friends tonight until about eight o’clock. Can we make it early?” Brian squinched his face like he was going to say no, but then nodded. “Sure, if that’s the only time you can make it.” She didn’t want her first date to be an inconvenience. “If that’s not good for you—” “No, no, it’s fine. How about if you meet me at Kendall’s over on Walnut Street? Five o’clock?” He smiled. How could she have never noticed his charming smile before? How white his teeth were? How much Brian looked like a male model? “Sure. See you later,” she called to Brian on his way out the door. “It’s a date,” he replied. It certainly is, she thought, bemused and bedazzled a bit by the circumstances.

“You have a what?” Arden had to hold the phone away from her ear to counter the force of Lida’s scream. “A date.” “With who? How? When did this happen?” Arden struggled with her mascara, cradling the phone to her ear and almost dropping it. She gave up juggling to focus on Lida’s voice. “His name is Brian Doyle. He’s a sales rep for Bobsin Bitts.” “And here I thought you’d have gone ahead and dialed the way-back phone for a certain Mr. Dirty Worker Man.” Arden’s heart pitter-patted, even as she scoffed. “Um. No. Brian’s been coming to the shop since I opened. “And he only asked you out today? What did you do to him?” Lida broke away from the phone to holler, “No, Henry! Super Glue is not for making collages! I swear, it’s like the second I get on the phone, all hell breaks loose. Which is saying something, considering the chaos when I’m not on the phone. “ Arden laughed. “It was the weirdest thing, Lida. It’s like I woke up today and decided I was open to the idea of dating. And all of a sudden I started noticing men noticing me!” “The veil has been lifted. Hallelujah!” Lida yelled again. “No! Cats do not need press-on nails! Arden, I have to go.” “You go. I’ll call you tomorrow.” “You call me tonight, if you know what’s good— Henry Allen Crowley! Put that Super Glue down immediately!”

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Bachelor Number Four

“Go,” Arden urged. “I’ll call. I promise.” She stared at her reflection. What had Brian seen in her eyes today that was different from the last time he’d come into the shop? Arden brushed her hair and applied lipstick, quelling her anxiety with action. Whatever it was, she hoped she hadn’t lost it between this afternoon and now. Then, before she knew it, it was time for her to go.

“So, Arden—” Brian smiled at her over their after-dinner coffee, “—where do we go from here?” Arden put down her cup. “I’m not sure what you mean.” “You know. You’ve been playing hard to get for about five months now.” Brian flashed her that charming grin. “Hard to—” Arden laughed to cover her shock. “No, Brian.” His hand slipped across the table to capture hers. His finger caressed her palm, and Arden shivered…but not in a good way. “Oh, don’t be shy. I could tell you wanted to get to know me better. And hey, it’s against my personal policy to get involved with clients. But now I’m no longer your rep…” Brian smiled again, his smile no longer so charming. Now it was full of teeth. Like a shark. Arden extricated her hand without fanfare and picked up her cup to disguise her trembling fingers. “To be honest, Brian, I didn’t—” “I’m only in town for tonight,” Brian interrupted, annoying her. “And I know you have to get back to your…kids.” He said the word like it was distasteful, and her face must have shown her dislike because he again cut her off before she could speak. “I mean, kids are great, you know? Love the little ankle-biters. And I think a woman with kids knows how to treat a man.” Incredibly, while Arden sat with lips parted in shock, Brian waggled his eyebrows at her. “Why? Because we’re more desperate to keep one?” Arden demanded. Any sane man would have backed away, but Brian was pure salesman. “Want to come back to my hotel room with me? I can make it quick.” Arden stood. “I’m sure you can.” Brian got up, too, apparently mistaking her outrage for eagerness. “How about if you follow me? That way, you can scoot out and pick up your kids when we’re done.” “I don’t think so.” That smooth brow furrowed. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to drop you off—”

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Megan Hart

Arden broke into his speech with a laugh. “I’m sorry, Brian. I was being unclear. I shouldn’t have said ‘I don’t think so’. I should have said no.” “No?” “No.” Arden took a step away from him. “Thank you for dinner, but there’s no way I’m going back to your hotel room with you.” Fortunately the restaurant was almost empty or Brian’s sneering response might have caught more attention. “Why not? I’d say that’s exactly what you’re looking for. All you’ve done for the past five months is tease me, Arden. You can’t tell me you don’t want a piece of this.” He stopped short of grabbing his crotch, but his gesture made his intentions clear. Arden felt her face twist in an expression of distaste so blatant there was no way Brian could miss it. He recoiled, charming smile gone. “Fine,” he said, straightening his tie. “Consider the dinner my parting gift to you.” “Thank you,” Arden said again, “but I’ll be happy to pay for my half.” Brian slapped down a sheaf of bills on the table. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Then you could be justified in turning me down. Well, too bad. I took you out, I’m paying for dinner, and you can go home with a guilty conscience.” This made her brows lift in amazement. “I have nothing to feel guilty about!” Brian leaned so close she could smell his cologne. “You led me on.” Had she been catapulted back to high school and her one and only date with the school jock? He’d tried all the same lines to get into her pants. She hadn’t fallen for them at sixteen. She wasn’t going to fall for them now. “Goodbye, Brian.” Arden tucked her purse under her arm and turned on her heel. By the time she got to the doorway, tiny hitching gasps were threatening to turn into full-fledged guffaws. The situation didn’t exactly seem as though it called for laughter, but it wasn’t worthy of tears either. She got into her car and stifled a cackle with the back of her hand. Then she looked at her reflection in the rear view mirror. “Nice first date,” she said to the empty car, and laughed again. A few minutes later, she’d picked up her children. The girls were both full of stories about their night’s events. Aislin had been to a Brownies’ sundae party to kick off their fall fundraiser, and Maeve had been invited to a movie with her friend Katie. Both girls were high on sugar and up-past-bedtime excitement, but their excited chatter gave Arden the chance to drive and think about her date with Brian. She ought to have felt worse about it. She’d been a bad judge of character. Brian’s charm had turned sour faster than milk on a hot day. His expectation of fast, easy sex had affronted her…not because she was looking for a boyfriend, but rather because he’d assumed getting in her pants meant not giving a damn about anything else. Getting laid was one thing. Getting laid by a moron was something else entirely.

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Bachelor Number Four

She glanced in the rear mirror to catch sight of her daughters still babbling to each other about their evenings. Arden’s throat closed at the sight of their sweet faces. She was a mother, a mommy, not some siren of sex. Not even a M.I.L.F. At least, she’d never thought so. Making love with Jason had always been good, even in the dry times when pregnancy and caring for infants had sapped her sexual desire. He’d always made her believe there was more to her than changing diapers and cleaning toilets. He’d made her feel like a woman even at her times of lowest self-confidence, with baby weight and leaking breasts, greasy hair and bad-fitting clothes. Jason had always made Arden feel beautiful…and loved. But those feelings had been saved for him alone. If other men looked at her with appreciation in their eyes, she’d never noticed, content to be a wife and mother. Today had been her first experience with seeing male reaction to her in twelve years—since meeting Jason. Knowing that a man, even a man as scummy as Brian had turned out to be, found her attractive could not offend her. Discovering she was desirable after so long pushing away that part of herself was a heady feeling. That some man other than the one she’d married and invested her life in could want to take her to bed…that made Arden grin and giggle out loud. “Mo-oom! It’s not funny!” Aislin’s cry tore Arden’s attention away from her thoughts. “I’m sorry, honey. What’s not funny?” Aislin gave a long-suffering sigh. “Brittney Zook at Brownies said her mom’s going to buy her a bra, and she made fun of me because I don’t have one.” Arden thought carefully before replying, flicking on her turn signal and heading down the street toward their house. “Do you want a bra, Aislin?” Maeve burst out laughing. “She doesn’t have any boobies!” “They’re called breasts,” Aislin told her sister haughtily before saying to Arden, “No, but I don’t want Brittney to make fun of me either.” Arden pulled into the driveway, turned off the engine and turned in her seat to look at her older daughter. At eight years old, Aislin was still pretty far away from needing a bra, but Arden remembered being the last girl in her class to get one. She swallowed against another wave of emotion threatening to make her voice tremble. “Honey, you really don’t need a bra, but if you think you’d like one…” Aislin crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want one! I don’t have any boobs!” “Breasts,” Maeve corrected and earned a scornful look from Aislin. “Maeve,” Arden said gently, “don’t tease. Aislin, does Brittney need a bra?” “No.” Aislin giggled. “She doesn’t have boobs either.” “Maybe it make her feel more grown-up to have one,” Arden offered.

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Megan Hart

Aislin snorted. “That’s so dumb. Besides, she just wants to get one so the boys can snap her straps. She thinks that means the boys like you when they do that, but that’s dumb, too. Like I would ever want a boy to snap my straps!” She made such a face of disgust Arden stifled a laugh. “That means they want to do sex!” cried Maeve importantly. Arden’s laugh cut off. “Maeve, who told you that?” “I saw it on TV.” “Ah.” What to say now? They’d already had the talk about the birds and the bees, how women’s bodies worked, how babies were made. The girls both knew about eggs and sperm, and if they weren’t quite clear on the exact details of how the two combined, Arden was okay with them not understanding for a little while. But this… “Kids our age don’t do sex, Maeve.” Aislin unbuckled her belt and gathered her things. “You have to be a grown-up.” And that was the end of that, Arden thought as she followed them into the house and supervised their night’s routine. She was wrong. As she bent to kiss Aislin good night, her daughter said, “Mom, you did sex with Daddy, right?” Arden sat on the edge of the bed and took Aislin’s hand. “Yes, honey. To make you and Maeve.” “But didn’t you do it other times, too?” Arden squeezed Aislin’s fingers. “Yes, Aislin. That’s what men and women do when they’re married.” She braced herself for the next question, not sure how’d she’d continue to answer, but certain she wanted to give her kids a healthy view of sex. “But you don’t do it now?” She smiled and shook her head, glad the answer was an easy one. “No, honey.” Aislin’s eyes were serious. “But will you ever do it again, do you think?” A few different answers whirled in Arden’s brain before she said, “I don’t know, Aislin. Sex is something that’s very special and is better when it’s shared with someone you really care about.” “Like you cared about Daddy.” Arden took a deep breath, not wanting to cry. “Yes. Like Daddy.” “I don’t ever want to do it. It sounds disgusting to me.” Aislin turned on her side and pulled her hand from Arden’s. “Good night, sweet pea.” Arden bent and kissed Aislin’s forehead, tucked the covers around her, and went downstairs. Another milestone covered, she thought as she went to the computer. The sex talk. It only got more complicated from there.

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Bachelor Number Four

She adjusted the keyboard and clicked the mouse to stop the swirling screen saver. “Hello, handsome.” The photo of Keanu filled her screen, marred only by a few icons on her desktop. Idly, she arranged them so they lined up along the side of the screen and no longer blocked his distinctive features. She leaned back and stared at his perfect face, then peeked at the clock. It was already almost ten. The girls would both have a hard time getting up in the morning since they’d gone to bed so late past their normal bedtime. She should get some sleep, too. Just a quick note to Lida, she thought as she opened her email program. She wanted to let her friend know about the disaster date. She clicked the compose button and started typing as the program collected her incoming messages. A small red number five appeared on top of her email icon. She paused in typing her note to Lida to see what had come in. “Junk, junk, junk…oh!” The gasp tumbled from her lips and made her feel foolish, and her hand jerked so the mouse no longer highlighted the fourth message. It was from Shane. She took a deep breath to calm herself, then clicked through to her Connex account to read the message.

Hey, nice to hear from you. I saw the notice in the paper about your shop. Looks good. Give me a shout some time. S.

“Don’t overanalyze it,” she whispered, but, of course, did just that. She read the message several times, but couldn’t convince herself of any hidden meaning in the innocuous words. And she shouldn’t expect any, she scolded. Her note to him had been just as bland. But what could she have sent instead? Hey, Shane, just wondering if you’re still available and interested in a fuck buddy? Stupidly yours, Arden. Her words to Aislin flew back at her. She had meant them. And yet, her memories of Shane, naked in candlelight, sent a shiver through her powerful enough to peak her nipples even now. Her fingers moved on the keyboard, crafting her reply.

I’m glad you wrote back. I saw your company’s website. It looks very successful. Congratulations.

Signing it with only her initial gave the letter the same casual feeling as his, though she felt anything but casual about sending it.

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Megan Hart

She sent the message and sat back, her heart still thumping. She shook her head at her foolishness and returned to her note to Lida, keeping her Connex page open at the side. She’d only typed a few words when a red one appeared on the Connexmail icon at the top of the page. Curious, she minimized her email to Lida, then sat back in her chair, a wide grin on her face. He was online. She clicked on the message, sent only moments after getting hers. The note was brief, and again her eyes scanned it multiple times, trying to glean any hidden meaning behind the words.

Yeah, the business is doing well. It keeps me out of trouble.

No signature, not even an initial, this time. She looked over the words once more, then crossed her arms over her chest while she stared at the screen. Contemplating. Shane had been a master of innuendo and double entendre, of veiled meaning and subtle invitation. She’d also known him to be blunt to the point of being shocking. The trouble was, she’d never learned how to anticipate which approach he’d take. She typed fast, so as not to give herself too much time to think. Glad to hear you’re staying out of trouble. It’s nice to see you’re doing something that makes you happy. Send. She went back to Lida’s note, but her fingers stuttered so much on the keys she misspelled every other word. She tried to pretend she was not looking at the Connexmail icon every few seconds, but she was. Her program was set up to automatically collect mail every five minutes, but she had no idea how often Connexmail refreshed. Besides, not even two minutes had passed. Could she refresh the entire page? That would be desperate. That would be stupid. If he was going to reply tonight, surely she could wait another few minutes. “Oh, you bugger,” she muttered as she refreshed her browser window, and no new messages appeared. Again, she opened her email to Lida and tried to type. Maybe he went offline. There was no reason to think he’d waited for her reply. Maybe he’d just happened to answer her so fast from coincidence, and now he was offline. Doing something else, like she should be doing, instead of waiting like a high school girl for the phone to ring… A small red number one appeared. She kept her fingers firm on the keyboard and forced herself to finish typing Lida’s note. She read it over to make sure she had been semi-coherent and hadn’t made any more glaring spelling errors. Satisfied she wouldn’t be sending anything embarrassing, she clicked Send. Now she could turn her attention to the new message in her Connex inbox. Arden hesitated before clicking on it, but it took her only three seconds to read what it said.

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Bachelor Number Four

Who said I was happy?

No mistaking the helluva lot of potential meaning in that. Arden stared at the words, pondering how to reply. He’d left it wide open for her. There was no good way for her to construe that as anything but a leading statement. The question was, what was he leading her to? You’re not happy? That’s too bad, she typed and sent. She ought to go to bed. It was now nearing eleven, and the morning would come way too early. She stared at the computer screen so long it flickered and began to disintegrate into the screen saver again. She tapped the keyboard to stop the swirling colors. Still no new messages. “Stupid,” she muttered and minimized the browser window. “Go to bed, Arden. He’s not going to answer tonight.” She had some invoices to catch up on though, and a few items she wanted to check out online. It couldn’t hurt to surf the Net for a few more minutes. She could finish up the last bit of work so she didn’t have to do it tomorrow at the shop. She could spend more time sewing that way. Rationalize it, she told herself, but knowing what she was doing didn’t stop her from doing it. She opened her documents and typed up a few orders, a couple of invoices, and deleted some old correspondence she no longer needed. Then she did a few searches on some items she was looking to buy for the shop, made a few price comparisons, picked what she could afford, and ordered what she needed. Still no Connexmail. “Give it up,” she said. “Go to bed!” And, just before she told the computer to go into sleep mode, that magic red number appeared at the top of the window. Arden read the message with narrowed eyes.

I didn’t say I wasn’t. I just said who said I was?

Let the games begin, she thought. Her anticipation soured. Now he was toying with her, something she’d always hated about him. At least now she knew which way he was going, and it wasn’t blunt and to the point. She’d changed, though. Once upon a time she’d been willing to toss the verbal ball back and forth, but now that sort of sparring only left a bad taste in her mouth. “I’m past playing games,” Arden said to the screen and, with resolve, she deleted his message and all the ones before it. Then she put the computer to sleep and went upstairs to do the same.

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Chapter Three

“Could this place be any louder?” Lida grimaced, then shouted toward her son, “Way to go, Henry!” The boy’s grin was a perfect replica of his mother’s as he turned and did a victory dance. “I got a strike!” “Good job!” Lida turned back to Arden. “They must amplify the noise on purpose so we go to the bar to self-medicate our headaches.” Arden laughed and clapped as Maeve followed Henry. “It’s not that bad.” Lida pushed the plate of fries toward her. “Maybe I’m just getting old. Here. Clog your arteries.” Dipping a fry in ketchup, Arden waved toward Aislin as the girl took her turn. Her two girls were having a blast with Lida’s three boys and Heather’s daughter Elyse. While none of the kids looked likely to break a hundred on the score, they were all having fun. “They’re so cute,” Arden said. “Cute, schmoot. Tell me about your date.” “There’s not much to tell beyond what I wrote last night. It was pretty much a disaster.” Heather looked up from tying Elyse’s shoe, then scooted the girl back into the game. “She might know already, but I don’t. Spill the beans already.” Heather had been divorced for over a year. Elyse had been in Aislin’s swimming class last year, when Arden was a brand-new widow. They’d both been prone to awkward bouts of tears in public, which had immediately endeared them to each other. Thankfully, they’d both passed that stage, but if there was anyone besides Lida who could appreciate the story about Brian, it would be Heather. Arden outlined the spur-of-the-moment date, the awkward dinner, the uncomfortable ending. Heather laughed. “Typical guy. Puts a price on dinner like he’s saved your life. Like a burger and fries should be worth at least a handjob, right?” Lida laughed. “Oh, brother. With women it’s a whole different story. I tell my husband, ‘Honey, the biggest turn-on you can give me would be the sight of you running the vacuum cleaner’.” The three women laughed, but Arden shook her head. “Brian was very cute, and it’s not like I’m looking for an immediate boyfriend. What made me mad was his assumption that I’ve been leading him on. Like somehow being nice to a guy means I’m desperate for a man.” “Aren’t you?” Lida laughed again at Arden’s rolling eyes. “C’mon. I don’t mean for a man, necessarily…but for a may-un.” The emphasis made her meaning clear.

Bachelor Number Four

Arden looked over at her daughters. “I told you, Lida. That’s not me.” Lida followed her gaze, and her expression softened while she patted Arden’s hand. “I know. I’m only half kidding. The other half thinks you should gussy yourself up and head down to the bar on karaoke night, find yourself some young, hot college guy and let him rock your world.” Arden burst into laughter. “Oh, that’s so likely to happen.” “It’s not so unlikely.” Heather washed down her mouthful of fries with some cola. “The cutest boy ever mows my lawn. It sounds like a cliché, very Mrs. Robinson, but hell-o! That boy is to-die-for cute, very flirtatious. If I didn’t have Leo, I’d seriously consider taking him up on what he’s been offering me all summer.” “Get out of here.” Arden looked more closely at her friend. “You’re not kidding?” Heather shook her head. “No way. His name is Jordan, and he is Fine with a capital F.” “Doesn’t do Arden any good,” Lida pointed out. “Henry, it’s Maeve’s turn next. Don’t you give me that look!” “What kind of guy are you interested in?” Heather got up to referee the scuffle that had broken out between the girls and the boys, giving Arden time to imagine dark hair, blue eyes and attitude. What she said, instead, was, “I don’t know, I guess.” Heather grabbed some more fries. “I’m asking because there’s a nice guy who works in Doug’s office. His fiancée left him at the altar about three months ago.” “Sounds like a winner.” Lida chuckled. “Why’d she leave him? What’s wrong with him?” “Nothing that I know of,” Heather said. “He seems like a nice guy. I think she ran off with an old boyfriend or something.” “Ugh.” Arden watched Maeve and Aislin take their turns. “I don’t know, Heather. A blind date? That’s like something from a bad romcom.” “You don’t have to marry him. I just thought if you wanted to get your feet wet in the dating pool, so to speak, you might be interested. His name is Greg. He’s about thirty.” “Too young!” “Oh Arden, that’s only a little younger than you.” Lida scoffed. “Is he cute?” “Sandy blond, blue eyes, nice build.” Heather shrugged. “He’s put on a bit of weight, but he’s not fat or anything. Decent sense of humor.” “How do you even know he’s interested in going out?” Arden demanded. “Because he’s always moaning about how there aren’t any decent women in the world who aren’t married already.” “Ah.” Arden sipped her soda and gave Lida a look. “Oh, all right. What the hell, right?”

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Megan Hart

The women laughed. Heather gave Arden an around-the-shoulder squeeze. Lida waggled her eyebrows. “Try not to break his heart,” she said.

“So…” Arden trailed off, looking at the menu while she tried to think of something to say. Greg hadn’t stopped staring at her since the moment she’d introduced herself to him. She could still feel his eyes burning a hole in the top of her head. “The garlic and olive oil pasta looks good.” “Garlic makes me bloat.” Startled at such an intimate revelation, Arden looked up. “Oh. Um. Well, maybe you’d better stay away from the pasta then.” Greg glanced at his own menu. “I’m going to order the low-carb special. I’m trying to watch my carbs.” “Ah.” Arden looked again at the menu, still feeling his intense gaze on her. “I think I’ll try the grilled chicken salad.” With that decided, she put aside the menu and sipped from her iced tea. The lunch crowd at the restaurant was bustling and a bit noisy, but since Greg wasn’t saying anything, she didn’t have to strain to hear him. Arden tapped another sugar packet into her glass and squeezed a few more drops of lemon, though the tea had been fine before. Anything to keep her hands busy. If I look up and he’s still staring… “Heather says you’re a seamstress.” Relief that he’d finally chosen to have a conversation made Arden answer too brightly. “Yes. Yep. Sure am. You betcha!” Great, now she sounded like Mistress Mary Twinkle-Sparkle. She smiled at Greg, her teeth gritted. His return smile seemed forced. “My ex liked to knit.” Arden sighed inside, but kept up her smile. “Really? I never learned how.” “She used to make me scarves.” “Ah.” Greg drank from his glass. Water dribbled over his chin and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. His gaze still pierced her. “I didn’t expect you to be so pretty.” “What?” Arden tucked her hair behind her ears. “Oh, well. Thanks.” “Heather told me you were pretty, but I didn’t believe her. I mean, I didn’t think you’d really be pretty. But you are.” “Um…lucky…you?” Arden’s laugh sounded hollow.

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Bachelor Number Four

Greg didn’t smile. “She didn’t tell you I was cute, did she?” He sounded so sure she’d say no that Arden felt compelled to answer, “Of course she did.” Greg sighed. “She told you what happened to me, didn’t she? How Jennifer ran off with her ex the day we were supposed to get married?” Ouch. “Yes. She told me. I’m sorry, Greg.” Another sigh lifted his shoulders. “It’s okay. I guess I should be past it by now.” He might have been going for pity, but Arden didn’t have much for him. Being dumped at the altar somehow, in her book, didn’t quite compare with losing your spouse to cancer. Still, she had agreed to go on this date and making the best of things was better than focusing on the negative, or so she’d always tried to tell her kids. Funny how much harder that could be than expected. “So, Greg. What do you do in Doug’s office?” He launched into a complicated but blessedly brief description involving integers and statistics and the conversation soon trailed off, but the food arrived, so the next few minutes were taken up by eating. “My salad is delicious. How’s your steak?” Greg nodded around a mouthful of red meat. “It’s okay. I haven’t had much of an appetite…since…you know.” Arden watched him polish off an entire steak and a side of broccoli smothered in butter without even pausing to breathe. If that was not having an appetite, she didn’t want to see him when he was hungry. She was being uncharitable, but Greg’s sad-sack routine had worn thin within five minutes. She’d never been so glad to see a check arrive in her life. “I’ll be right back to get that,” said the waiter. Arden waited, but Greg didn’t reach for the paper. He just sat, staring at her. Arden looked down at the check, a scant inch from Greg’s fingers. He didn’t move. “I’ll get this,” she said and snatched up the paper, anxious to get out of there. “No, you don’t have to.” But he didn’t reach to take it from her, just sat back and bored holes in her boobs with his eyes. “Nope. Got it.” Arden stood, calculating a tip she knew was too generous, but not wanting to take the time to figure out the right amount. She dug out a twenty and some change from her purse and handed it to the startled waiter. “Keep the change. Greg, it’s been nice—” “I’ll walk you to your car.” Deep breath, Arden. “Okay.” Once there, he followed her around to the driver’s side and stood so close she couldn’t open the door without smacking him in the knees. “Thanks for lunch. I didn’t expect you to treat me.” Sure you didn’t, buddy. “No problem.”

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He was on her so fast she didn’t have time to get away. Trapped between the car and his saggy tryingto-watch-my-carbs gut, Arden had no room to move. Greg’s face loomed in front of her like a scene from a very bad B-movie, the leer on his lips as unmistakable as the gleam of lust in his eyes. Arden managed to duck the kiss at the last possible second, so his mouth landed on the corner of hers instead of full-on. She’d been trying to catch it with her cheek. As it was, his mouth squirmed on her skin like a worm on a hook, and—oh, mercy, yuck, oh no—she felt the tentative tickle of his tongue before he withdrew in apparent surprise at her ducking maneuver. He didn’t pull away far enough for her to escape. Despite what he’d said about garlic making him bloat, he must have had some of it sometime recently because she smelled it on his breath. His body pressed against hers as he pinned her with his gaze. “I don’t have to be back at the office for another half-hour,” Greg whispered. “Greg?” Now he smiled, a dreamy yet lascivious grin that turned her stomach. “Yes?” “If you don’t get off me in three seconds, I’m going to knee you in the nuts.” He stepped away from her, hands up, like she’d threatened to shoot him. Which wouldn’t have been a bad idea either, Arden thought. She wiped his slime from her face and fixed him with a level glare. “I’m not sure exactly what made you think I was willing to hop into bed with you after knowing you for oh, let’s see—” she looked at her watch, “—one hour and seven minutes. But you’re so wrong, if wrong were rain, we’d be building an ark.” For an instant, anger flashed in his eyes, but maybe the pity-me routine had worked for him too many times before. Greg’s brow creased and he frowned. “Sure. I get it.” He sighed. “I should’ve known better. I mean, after what happened to me, I should’ve known. I don’t expect you to understand…” His sob-story persona had been working her nerves from the beginning, but now, with his garlic stench still clinging to her nostrils, Arden’s temper exploded. “What don’t I understand? Why your fiancée left you? If you behaved with her the way you acted with me, that’s easy to figure out. But if you’re saying I don’t understand what it’s like to lose somebody you love, then you are riding the bus down Wrong Street again. My husband died, Greg. Died. He didn’t run off, didn’t cheat on me, didn’t find someone he liked better. He died.” Arden paused to take a breath, realized her hands were clenched, and unclenched them. She calmed herself. “My advice to you would be get over it, move on, and quit trying to play the wounded soldier to get a sympathy fuck. It’s not a pretty sight.” And, leaving him to stand gape-mouthed on the corner, Arden got into her car and drove away.

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Chapter Four

“Don’t ask,” she said later to Lida on the phone while she washed the dinner dishes. “I already talked to Heather about disaster date two. She’s promised to buy me cheesecake to make up for it.” “That bad, huh? Hold on a minute. Henry, put that screwdriver back where you found it! Sorry, Arden. Anyway, that bad?” Arden looked at her two angels, each ensconced in her favorite chair, doing homework. She laughed at the vision of the chaos reigning in Lida’s house. “Yes. That bad.” “You’re laughing. It couldn’t be that bad. Henry! Cats do not like to wear underpants!” “You’d better go.” Lida sighed. “I’m going to beat that child.” “You won’t, and you know it.” “He’s a terror.” “And you love him.” Lida laughed. “Yes. I do. But I’d better go before he destroys something. Tell me about your date later, okay?” “Sure.” Arden hung up and helped Aislin and Maeve finish their assignments. They played a quick game of Clue before bed, she read a chapter of Mary Poppins, and then the lights went out, her children slept, and she went downstairs to grab a few minutes of work time before going to sleep herself. Before a few weeks ago, she hadn’t logged in to Connex in over a year and yet here she was, once again opening her browser window and staring at status updates from a bunch of people she didn’t really care about. She even had a bunch of unanswered connection requests and some invitations to events long over…but though it had been two weeks since her last correspondence with Shane, there were no new messages. She’d been half expecting him to message her, even though she hadn’t replied to his last one. Now her fingers itched to type a reply, but she resisted. “No game playing,” she told herself. Of course she’d told herself that about him many times in the past and had let herself get swept up with the sort of mindfuck he’d favored…but that was a long time ago. Things had changed. She had changed. Her computer chirped. At the bottom right corner of the Connex page, a small button blinked.

Megan Hart

User erectorset1241 has sent you an instant message. Do you wish to accept it? Arden hardly ever used her instant messaging program and hadn’t even known anyone could ping her through Connex. But it was him, Shane Donner, the man she didn’t want to remember and had never been able to forget. Her fingers moved the mouse to hover over the Deny button, to delete the message. Ignore it. With a twist of her wrist, she changed her answer to Accept.

erectorset1241: I hear the Come Inn has great midday rates.

She stared at the screen, pulse quickening. The words twisted her stomach, and not totally in dismay. He’d remembered, but why shouldn’t he? They’d been his words, way back when. “We’ll end up sneaking around in hotel rooms when we’re in our thirties,” he’d told her when she said she was going to marry Jason. “I hope not,” had been her reply. “Because that means everything I’m hoping to have in my life will have been a lie.” She’d just turned thirty-four. He’d have turned the same age this past July. She wasn’t angry that he was trying to see if she remembered the last words they’d shared. She was furious he’d assume she’d be willing to cheat on her husband. He didn’t know about Jason, of course. Couldn’t. Shane was being his typical self, cocky and arrogant, teasing her into a conversation she knew she shouldn’t have. If he thought she was married, he’d be testing her to see how far he could get her to go. A full minute had passed while she processed his words and thought about deleting them. And yet, when she moved the mouse to the small red “x” at the top of the message window, she couldn’t quite do it. The pure and dirty fact was that she wasn’t married any longer. And even now, years later, with a good marriage and a hundred thousand wonderful memories filling her brain, she still had room to remember the brief time she’d spent with Shane. Good sex—really, really good sex—was hard to forget. Almost as hard to forget as first love. She wouldn’t have said she loved him, knew he hadn’t loved her, but they’d been tied together for that time and forged a tenuous but powerful link that had never quite broken. It hadn’t been love, but it had been something strong enough to make her wonder…what if? There was no reason for her not to flirt with him now. No reason to pretend she wasn’t curious about him. Her time with Shane had been a roller-coaster ride, all high peaks and deep valleys, screaming with the wind whipping her hair. The question she needed to ask herself was clear: was she ready to get back on the roller coaster? Arden paused, trying to think of what to type, how to respond. What to give him…and what to keep for herself.

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Bachelor Number Four

shesewsbuttons: Shane? erectorset1241: I’m flattered you didn’t forget me. shesewsbuttons: Don’t fish for compliments. erectorset1241: Would I do that?

She laughed despite herself. Yes. You haven’t changed.

erectorset1241: Everyone changes, Arden.

Yes, she typed. They do.

erectorset1241: Have you?

That was a loaded question. She couldn’t automatically presume to know the answer he wanted, so she went with truth. More games, annoying but so familiar. Her heart raced, just a little. That was familiar too.

shesewsbuttons: Of course. I’m older now. Got married. Had kids. You know, living the American Dream. You? erectorset1241: I’m not the angst-ridden, melancholy playboy you remember.

She smiled as the words appeared on the screen. No?

erectorset1241: Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not that bad boy anymore. shesewsbuttons: I’m not disappointed. Bad boys get into trouble. erectorset1241: Trouble like trying to convince you to sneak away with me for some afternoon delight?

What a bold bastard. It was the perfect time to tell him the truth about Jason, to see how quickly his flirting ended when he learned she was, indeed available for afternoon, morning or evening delight. He’d only ever wanted her when he couldn’t have her, and Arden all at once didn’t want him to stop wanting her. Not yet. It felt too good to flirt. She thought of her dream, and how his eyes had locked with hers while they made love.

shesewsbuttons: Trouble exactly like that. But you don’t even know me anymore.

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erectorset1241: Saw your profile picture. You haven’t changed.

Oh, but she had, right? She was a different woman now, wasn’t she? So why then did she feel like everything with him was still the same and always would be?

shesewsbuttons: I doubt your wife would approve. erectorset1241: You should know better than that. I’m not married. shesewsbuttons: Girlfriend? erectorset1241: Ha, ha. Hell no. shesewsbuttons: Why hell no? erectorset1241: I don’t have time for a girlfriend. shesewsbuttons: But you have time to sneak off to motel rooms with married women? erectorset1241: I could make time for that.

Arden drew in a breath, frowning, and stared at the screen. Well, I can’t. I’ve never cheated on my husband, I would never do something like that. With anyone. Ever. The cursor blinked at her for a long moment before his reply showed up.

erectorset1241: Understood. What makes you think I’m asking you to?

Had she missed something? She scrolled upward to reread the previous text. It was easy to misinterpret words unaccompanied by expression and inflection, but she was pretty sure she hadn’t mistaken his flirting.

shesewsbuttons: I figured that was a pretty clear invitation. erectorset1241: You need a better sense of humor then.

She went from amusement to anger as fast as it took her to read those eight words, and that, too, was a familiar memory of her time with him.

shesewsbuttons: My sense of humor is fine. erectorset1241: Then maybe a reality check. We were over more than twelve years ago. I’ve moved on.

Now that out-and-out pissed her off, and her fingers flew across the keyboard, uncensored.

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Bachelor Number Four

I didn’t know you could get over something that never existed. Ouch, cold. But she didn’t care. Let him flirt with her, then turn surly when he thought she was turning him down. What an arrogant prick, she thought, fuming, waiting for him to reply. He didn’t. Instead, her computer notified her That user is no longer online. “Coward!” She spoke too loudly in the quiet nighttime house. “Stupid jerk!” And she was stupid for letting him get to her. Arden scowled. She ought to have told him the truth, instead of letting him think she was married. It would have completely cleared up the whole misunderstanding. But if he knew she were free, would he have offered an affair? Which was worse? Having him offer when he believed she would not take him up on it, or being rejected because she could? “What the hell else does The Come Inn has great midday rates mean? Son of a bitch. Trying to play me.” She’d brought it on herself, she had to admit it. She didn’t have to like it, but she did have to admit it. “No more games,” she told herself. “That’s the reality check!” He’d packed up his toys and gone home, but did that mean she’d won? It didn’t feel like it. As Arden went upstairs to bed, it felt like she’d lost, big-time.

This time, he took her from behind. Hard and fast. His cock slid inside her as his hands came around to cup her breasts. Fingers tweaked her nipples upright, and a moan leaked out of her. Arden arched, his heat like flames along her back as he bent over her to bite the nape of her neck. She was kneeling? No, bending, hands flat on the table…the kitchen table, but not hers. Cold, bare floor under her feet. The table’s smooth surface under her palms. A dream table, in a dream kitchen, with a dream man fucking her. And oh, it felt so good. She came, orgasm shuddering through her, and understood she was dreaming because her arousal didn’t diminish. Sensations that would have left her unfulfilled in reality drove her closer and closer to climax in the dream. The sound of his breathing, the roughness of his thrusts, the hard, unyielding surface beneath her hands worked together, part of the dream, and gave her the freedom to let herself go into it. This was not reality. This was a dream, and since it was her dream, she knew who her lover had to be. She wanted to see his face, but couldn’t manage to turn. His cock fucked in and out, faster. His hands gripped her waist, hard enough to leave bruises if this had been real, and she leaned forward, elbows now resting on the table, forehead on the cold, smooth wood.

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She came again, a slow rippling of pleasure. The dream shifted. She lay on her back, legs wrapped around her lover’s waist while he thrust inside her. His weight materialized against her chest. His mouth took hers, tongues meeting and sliding free to stroke and tangle. “Shane.” His intense gaze pinned her. The smug arrogance of his smile made her angry, and with her anger her passion soared. “I love fucking you,” he told her, no soft and gentle words in this dream, no tenderness. She made to slap him, but his hand caught hers and forced it upward, above her head, where his hands pinned both her wrists. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t even struggle. His weight held her down, but he didn’t stop filling her. His hips rolled, his pelvis pushed against her clit with every thrust. It was wrong, this angry fucking. She should hate it. Hate him for doing it to her this way. And she would…in real life she would hate it, would get no pleasure from his force and dominance. But this was not real life, this was a dream, and even here it was not some twisted rape fantasy. She wanted this. She wanted him. She wanted to fuck him, to be fucked by him, wanted to ride him until she came again and again. She wanted to hear him say her name when he climaxed. “Say my name.” The words floated from her dream lips. “No,” answered the uncooperative lover. “I won’t.” “You will.” And because this was her dream, he did. Moaned it, long and low, his voice a harsh and husky whisper that sent another orgasm spiraling outward from her clit to the rest of her body. She woke after that last one, a stifled cry on her lips. The blankets had tangled around her legs and she extricated herself while she peered at the clock. Fifteen more minutes until she had to get out of bed. Fifteen more minutes of sleep she wasn’t even going to try and get. Her entire body still hummed with sexual tension, surprisingly unrelieved by the cascade of climaxes she’d experienced. There was really only one way to get rid of that feeling, which she’d grown accustomed to over the past eighteen months. She slipped from the bed and closed and locked her door, knowing both her girls wouldn’t be up for another half an hour. She wouldn’t need that much time. She pulled the small cloth pouch from her bedside table drawer and took out the plastic butterfly. It was meant to be worn with straps hugging the thighs and hips, and it had a remote control that meant it could be used with a partner, but she’d found it worked just as well alone. Like she had a choice. She thumbed the switch and started the quiet humming.

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Chapter Five

“Dreams are just a manifestation of your subconscious desires becoming conscious.” Lida stirred some sweetener into her coffee and snagged a bagel from the basket. “I dream about falling,” replied Heather. “Does that mean I want to fall?” Arden refilled her friends’ mugs and her own before sitting down. “I think what Lida’s trying to say is that I keep dreaming about shagging Shane Donner because I really do want to.” “Duh,” said Lida. Heather laughed. “And he just messaged you out of the blue?” “You have to tell Heather your history with the guy. Racy stuff.” Arden laughed. “It’s not that racy.” “Spill it. The kids are in school. It’s morning mommies’ coffee and dirty secrets time.” Heather sipped her coffee. “C’mon, I could use a few good stories.” Arden quickly outlined her past with Shane—the whole brief but torrid affair. Heather nodded. “I had one of those. I call them the Open Doors. You know, sometimes they just don’t close?” “Open Doors. Perfect description,” Arden said. “But just because a door is open doesn’t mean you have to go through it.” “Doesn’t mean you can’t take a helluva peek at what’s inside!” Lida laughed. “Arden, I keep telling you. You need to get laid. And yes, get a boyfriend if that’s what you want, but satisfy the body’s needs and maybe the heart will follow.” Arden rolled her eyes. “You’re backwards. Besides, Lida, after disaster dates one and two, I’m not so sure I have the energy to try again.” “Girlfriend, you can’t give up after only two tries,” Heather said. “Do you know how many dates I went on before I met Leo?” “Luscious Leo.” Arden grinned. “No, but I remember when you went on your first date with him.” Lida rapped the table. “Don’t tell me you waited to have sex until you met him, Heather.” “Hell, no!” Heather laughed. “No way. I had some sex before I met him.” “See, even Heather thinks you just need to get laid. Get it out of your system. Once you realize you don’t have to be in love to have sex, the pressure will be off and you’ll be readier to find the right guy.”

Megan Hart

Something about that logic didn’t sound right, but Arden was used to Lida’s outrageous advice. “Why am I afraid when you say that? You’re the same person who convinced me to wear a hot pink-and-limegreen polka-dotted prom dress complete with matching shoes, right?” “Bad fashion advice is totally different than bad sex advice, Arden.” “Lida, my love, forgive me, but when’s the last time you had to wonder if you were going to have sex with Bill or how it would make you feel in the morning? Married sex is way different than single sex.” Lida gave a dramatic sigh. “Don’t I know it!” The three of them laughed around Arden’s kitchen table, three friends enjoying what Jason had always called “female bondage time.” Lida’s expression got serious. “If you still want to take a chance, though, I have someone in mind.” “No. No, Lida.” Heather and Lida exchanged looks. Heather raised a brow at Arden. “I wouldn’t pass this up, if I were you.” “Why not?” Arden got up to take her empty mug to the sink. Watching her two friends working together to wear down her resolve was…well, wearing down her resolve. “Because Philip Davis is drop-dead gorgeous, drives a kick-ass car, and has already said he’s interested.” Arden’s mug clattered against the sink. “What!” Turning, she glared, arms crossed over her chest. Heather and Lida exchanged looks. Lida picked up another doughnut, but before she could bite into it, Arden yanked it from her hands. “No more sugar until you confess! What did you say to this guy! How can he be interested, and why? What have you done?” “Arden,” Lida said in her soothing-a-frantic-friend voice. “Chill, baby. Philip works in my sister’s office. I’ve known him for a few years. He’s a nice guy, plays the field, but not in a sleazy way, and he’s interested because I showed him your picture and he thought you were hot.” “Hot!” Arden gasped. “Hot? Lida Crowley, you pimped me!” “No. I just happened to mention you were just getting back into dating and might be interested in having a good time.” Heather and Lida laughed. Heather said, “Philip is a good time, or so I’ve heard.” “What?” She couldn’t believe this, she really couldn’t. And yet, she mustn’t have been totally soured on the idea of dating and/or sex because she heard herself saying, “He really wants to take me out?” “Saturday.” Heather giggled and Lida slapped at her. “We’ve already arranged for your parents to take the girls.” This made Arden sag against the counter. “Is this some sort of conspiracy?”

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Bachelor Number Four

“A conspiracy of love,” Lida said. “We just want to get you back on your feet. Or back on your back, as the case may be.” “You guys!” Tears clogged her throat and burned in her eyes. “You’re crazy!” “That’s what friends are for,” Lida said in a mock-sage tone of voice. “Carry your burdens, share your joys, get you laid.” The kitchen rang with laughter, and though she couldn’t believe she was actually saying yes to another date, Arden laughed too. “I guess he can’t be any worse than Shark Boy or Grumpy Greg.” “Not Philip Davis,” said Lida. “He’s a dreamboat.” Arden sighed, loving her friends too much to be annoyed. “Let’s just hope it’s not the Titanic.” “So what if it is?” Lida pointed out. “At least you know he’ll go down.”

The week passed much too fast, but Arden filled it with work and her girls. Before she knew it, Saturday had come, and with it, a few extra appointments. Arden didn’t usually work on the weekend, but her parents had arranged to pick up the girls early, and she’d needed something to keep her mind off the night ahead. She was immersed in a froth of lace and satin when the bell on the shop door twinkled and jangled. Mouth full of pins, Arden pointed to an empty chair when she saw it was Lida, then turned her attention back to the bride who stood, hands clenched, on the stool. A few more pins and the hem no longer dragged behind the petite woman. “That should do it,” Arden said. “You can change now. I should have the last of these alterations done for you by the end of next week. Then we can schedule your last fitting in plenty of time for the big day.” The bride let out a low moan, then nodded, eyes wide as she stared at her reflection. “I look like a huge, fat cow.” “You look beautiful,” Arden reassured her, though in truth she was more than a little tired of this particular Nervous Nellie’s insecurities. She’d already changed her mind half a dozen times about the headpiece and veil, and there were additional problems with the mother’s and bridesmaid’s gowns. “You really think so?” “He’ll never look at another woman again,” Lida announced from her perch on the spindly chair. Bride-zilla gave Arden’s friend a narrow-eyed look. “Why would he?” Lida bit her lip and wisely kept quiet. The girl huffed and puffed and stepped down from the stool, holding out her hand for Arden to take as though she were a princess descending her throne. A princess with a bank account to match the attitude, Arden reminded herself. The girl had been a real pain in the ass, but a paying pain. “Don’t you think it would look better—”

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“Oh, no,” cut in Arden smoothly, hustling Fairy Princess toward the dressing room. “A longer hem will only get in the way. Tea-length is perfect for your dimensions.” Mollified, the bride headed back to change out of the gown and into her street clothes. Arden waited until the girl disappeared through the hanging curtain and then made a face at Lida, who gave one of her distinctive laughs. “Is it time for lunch yet?” Lida jerked her thumb toward the door. “Yes, thankfully.” Arden glanced over her shoulder. “As soon as she leaves, I’ll be ready to go.” In fifteen minutes she’d hung up the “Back in an hour” sign and was headed down the street with Lida toward a local coffee shop that sold delicious wraps and salads. They both ordered specialty coffee drinks and took their spot by the window to stare out at the pattern of traffic. “Tonight’s the night,” Lida said as she bit into a homemade frosted sugar cookie. “Are you ready?” “No.” Arden rested her chin on her hand. “Why do I feel like I’m interviewing this guy for a position instead of going on a date?” “The missionary position?” Lida laughed at her joke. “Relax. You’ll like Philip.” “I’m sure he’s very nice.” Arden looked up as the girl brought their sandwiches. When she’d gone, Lida chuckled. “And he’s hot.” “You didn’t tell him he was to lay me, did you?” Arden asked without much hope, pretty sure that was exactly what Lida had said. “I told him you weren’t interested in a relationship, that you’d lost your husband, and you were easing back into things.” “And that I needed to get laid.” “I might’ve mentioned that.” Arden groaned, heat burning her cheeks. She’d made the decision to go ahead and explore the idea of going to bed with someone, but she’d foolishly assumed she’d somehow find him herself. Reality hit her after the disaster dates. Hiring a babysitter to watch the girls while she cruised bars in search of a one-night stand didn’t appeal to her, and besides that, if she was actually going to get naked with someone, it was important the effort be worth her time. Like Lida had said at Ladies’ Night three months ago, she needed recommendations. “I feel like I’m being auctioned off to the highest bidder,” she grumbled, stuffing her mouth with sandwich. Lida shrugged. “Philip is a good guy, I promise. He knows the score. He’s going to show you a good time, and if you’re willing, he’s willing to show you an even better time.” Arden chewed, swallowed, fixed her friend with a suspicious glance. “And how did you get him to agree to this?”

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Bachelor Number Four

“Showed him your picture. Arden, whether you believe it or not, it’s not going to be hard for you to get a man to go to bed with you.” “If Philip’s so nice and so great in the sack, why is he still single?” Lida laughed. “Fear of commitment.” “Ah.” One word, full of meaning. “C’mon, Arden. He’ll be perfect for you. He’s not interested in being your boyfriend. He’s very cute. Nice job. Nice car. Good sense of humor. Give him a try for one night, okay?” Arden sighed, nodded, and dug into her lunch. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t interested. The dreams she’d been having lately had convinced her she needed to do something to appease her reawakening sex drive, which was rapidly becoming distracting. She wasn’t ready for love, or even a boyfriend. Maybe this setup with Philip could be a good thing. Lida pushed a small gift bag across the table toward Arden. “And here. From me and Heather.” “I’m afraid to look.” She expected something funny, like thong underwear. Instead, the bag bulged with dozens of small foil squares. “Condoms?” Lida raised a brow. “Do you have any?” “Of course not.” “Well, now you do.” Arden sifted through the condom cascade, careful not to let any of them fall out of the bag. “Warming sensation? Ribbed for pleasure? Glow in the dark and…Lida! Cherry-flavored?” “Knock yourself out, baby.” Lida laughed. “Have fun.” “How much fun do you expect me to have?” “Enough,” said Lida. Arden tucked the bag into her purse and went back to her lunch. “Well, at the very least, if my car happens to go off a bridge I’ll be able to save myself by inflating them and using them to float to the surface of the water.” Lida used her fork to point at Arden. “Don’t be a bitch.” Arden reached across the table and took her friend’s hand, grateful to have someone who cared about her so much, even if she did show it in some very strange ways. “Learned from the best.”

Later, at the shop with the sewing machine whirring, Arden let her thoughts turn to other faces. She hadn’t heard from Shane since their Connex chat fiasco, but she couldn’t stop thinking of him. She logged into Connex every night to stare at his picture wondering if twelve years had changed him at all. Did he have lines around his eyes? Longer hair? And his eyes…oh, Shane’s eyes. Those would be the same, that shifting blue-green that kept haunting her dreams.

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Megan Hart

Useless fantasy. Shane Donner was a memory from her past, a one-time fling not meant to be repeated. Nope. She was moving on. Taking steps. Getting back on the horse, as Lida put it rather crudely. Her stomach lurched at the thought of tonight’s date, but she forced away the incipient panic. She was going to meet Philip Davis. Nothing serious…just sex. And only if she wanted it, which Lida assured her, she would. It would be a relief—almost—not to play games. To know up front there was one purpose to the date. She’d just taken her foot off the sewing machine pedal when the bell above the door jingled. “Mommy!” Aislin swept in and ran straight for Arden, who had to hold her at bay long enough to move away from the moving needle before she gave in to the hug. “Hi, baby doll. Where’re Maeve and Gran?” Aislin jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “They’re coming.” All at once Arden was overcome with an urge to squeeze her daughter, so strong it nearly overwhelmed her. She gave in to it, wrapping her arms around the girl and doing what she called “squeezing out the juice”. “Mo-oom,” Aislin complained, then squeezed her in return. Even as a toddler, Aislin had always patted the back of anyone she hugged. That simple gesture nearly undid Arden now. She fought back tears and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “What are you guys going to do tonight?” “Gran says she and Grampa are going to let us stay up all night.” Arden, who knew both her girls would be sacked out by half past eight, didn’t let on that sounded like a tall tale. “Really? All night?” Aislin nodded, then leaned in to whisper, “And have popcorn.” “Sounds like fun.” Wish I were going to be there, Arden thought, her stomach taking another twist at her upcoming night. “Mommy?” “Hmm?” she answered as she snipped off the last few threads and tidied up her workspace. Aislin toyed with a bit of lace hanging out of Arden’s scrap box. “What are you doing tonight? Working?” Arden took a deep but silent breath. “No. I think I’m going to go out with some friends. A friend.” Aislin frowned, the tiny crease above her brows making her look so much like Jason that Arden again wanted to weep. “A boyfriend?” Arden coughed. “No, honey.” Aislin looked up then, blue eyes narrowed in concentration. “Because Samantha from day camp says when her dad and mom got divorced, her mom got a bunch of boyfriends right away. And you haven’t had any.”

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Bachelor Number Four

Arden knew Samantha’s mom; had, in fact, gone to high school with her. Sherry Smith had had a lot of boyfriends in high school, too. “I didn’t get divorced from Daddy, honey. It’s a little different.” “Samantha says her mom says she can’t stand to be without a man.” Arden bit her lip. “Some women can’t, Aislin.” “Can’t what?” This from Maeve, who’d barreled through the door with her typical sturdy gait. “Not have a boyfriend,” said Aislin self-importantly. “Is that so?” Bev, Arden’s stepmother, said as she followed Maeve. She gave Arden a look with raised brows. Arden stood to give Bev a hug. “So says Samantha’s mom, anyway.” “Mommy doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Maeve said, hand on her hip. “No,” said Arden, catching Bev’s eye. “I don’t. Tell you what. Why don’t you girls run in the back and make sure I didn’t leave anything in the dressing rooms, okay?” Arden wasn’t quite sure why Aislin and Maeve loved to play in the twin closets the shop used for changing rooms, but they headed off in a flash of giggles and trampling feet. “That’ll take about ten minutes.” Bev stared after them fondly. She gave Arden a familiar penetrating look, the same one she’d used on nights of missed curfews and suspiciously mussed hair. “What’s up?” “Aislin wanted to know what I was doing tonight,” Arden explained as she finished cleaning her workspace, crossed to the door and flipped the Closed sign so it showed through the glass. “I told her going out with a friend. She wanted to know if it was a boyfriend.” “Ah.” Arden realized all at once where she’d learned that simple one-word answer. Bev looked over Arden’s shoulder to make sure they were still alone. “But you’re not.” Arden shook her head. “No!” Bev smiled. “Honey, it’s okay to go on a date. It’s been a long time. If you’re ready—” Arden’s mother had run off to “find herself” when Arden was three. Arden’s dad had married Bev five years later. Though Bev was not the woman who’d borne her, she’d been Arden’s mother since childhood. She’d never known another mother and, while she and Bev had matured into a satisfyingly adult relationship over the years, there were still some things Arden was not about to discuss with her. Sex being one of them. “It’s just another date,” she said quickly. “Not a boyfriend. I’m not ready for that.” Bev gave her another long stare. “Arden, you know I lost my husband before I married your dad, don’t you?” “Of course.” Bev’s first husband had been killed in a car accident. “Do you know how old I was when that happened?”

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Megan Hart

She’d never thought about it. Though she’d never called her by the title, Bev had always been Mom, ageless, the same now as she’d been the first time she met her, only now with a few more gray hairs and wrinkles. When she didn’t answer right away, Bev answered for her. “I was twenty-seven.” “What?” Arden sputtered a moment. From the back room, giggles exploded into a few whining shouts, then died down again. “Wow. I didn’t know.” Bev nodded. “Younger than you are now.” Arden shook her head. “I guess I never thought of it.” “I was thirty when I married your dad. Still younger than you are now. It might surprise you to learn your dad was not the first man I dated in those three years. He was just the last.” Bev smiled. “How long did it take you to start dating again?” Bev thought for only a second. “About six months.” Again, Arden was surprised. “That seems—” “I know. It seems like a short time. Well, Arden, I should tell you those first few dates had very little to do with my being ready to move on, or to find a new relationship. To put it bluntly, I was lonely, and I wanted companionship. Not love, necessarily.” This was sounding a little too close to home. Arden busied herself with putting away her supplies before she looked up at Bev. “This was Lida’s idea.” Bev rolled her eyes. “I guessed that.” They shared a laugh. “It’s just a date, Bev.” “I know, honey.” Bev hugged her hard, then stepped back. “Just be careful, that’s all.” Arden heard the patter of feet and nodded. “My girls are the most important thing in the world to me right now. You know that.” It was Bev’s turn to look surprised. “I didn’t think otherwise. I was telling you to be careful about yourself, Arden. I know you’d never do anything that would harm the girls.” Then they had no more time to talk because Aislin and Maeve had come back into the shop in a whirlwind of chatter, two long pieces of net draped around their heads like turbans, identical grins making it impossible for her to get irritated. “Hugs and kisses.” Arden squeezed them both to her. “Have fun with Gran and Grampa.” Bev winked. “We’ll have a great time. And you have a great time, too. Don’t worry about us. We’re going to stay up—” “All night!” The girls chorused, giggling. “All night,” Bev repeated with another eye roll and began to herd them out the door. Arden stopped her. “Bev…thanks for everything. For keeping the girls…for everything.”

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Bachelor Number Four

Bev reached out to push a piece of Arden’s hair behind her ear. “You’re welcome, honey. Believe me, it’s my pleasure. Have fun tonight.” The shop seemed extremely empty after they’d gone, but Arden stayed only long enough to turn out the lights and lock the doors. Then she was out to the street, in her car and heading home to get ready for her big night.

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43

Chapter Six

Philip was absolutely, positively gorgeous. Blond hair, bright blue eyes, smile as white as pure mountain snow. He was tall and fit, and a very snappy dresser. In short, he was everything Lida had promised and more. Arden had underdressed in an ankle-length black skirt and a striped top, a cardigan thrown over her shoulders in case the restaurant’s air-conditioning was too high. She’d applied her makeup carefully and pulled her hair into a pretty braid, but still felt dowdy in comparison to the godlike man before her. Philip didn’t seem to be put off at her non-goddess-level looks. He smiled and got up from the car he’d been leaning on. A dark blue Lexus—nice car, just like Lida had said. “Hi, Arden?” She nodded and held out her hand, then almost pulled it back. Was it appropriate to shake hands with a man she was supposed to be propositioning? Philip took her fingers and gave them a squeeze. For one heart-stopping moment, Arden thought he meant to kiss her fingers. Relief flooded her when he didn’t. “Should we go inside?” She nodded, then cleared her throat. She didn’t want to come off like an idiot, but afraid of sounding overeager, she just said, “Okay.” Philip held the door for her, pulled out her chair and opened her menu for her with aplomb. And he managed to do all of that without making her feel awkward. Bonus points for that, she thought, trying not to stare. He was an easy man to get caught up in watching to the exclusion of all else. Kind of like looking at a perfect painting, like he was too pretty to be real. Arden blinked and forced herself to look down at the plate in front of her. A single, lonely dinner roll squatted on the plain white china. Tiny pats of butter shaped like roses tempted her to take one. By the time she’d buttered the roll, she was staring at him again. “Lida tells me you’ve only been back in Annville for a couple of months.” Arden nodded and washed down her miniscule bite of roll with a swig of iced tea. “Six months actually.” “You have a shop? Bridal shop?” “I’m a seamstress,” she explained. “My store’s right down the street. Across from the Allen Theater. I do bridal gowns, special occasion dresses, costumes for the Renaissance Faire. Stuff like that.” He made an impressed face she didn’t assume was faked. Either he really was impressed, or he was very, very good. “You made the dresses in the window?”

Bachelor Number Four

“Yep. That was me.” “Wow.” Philip chewed his own roll for a moment. “I’m in banking.” Arden nodded, not sure of what to say. Small talk should be easier than this, especially with a man so smooth. And yet…despite his gorgeous good looks and pleasant personality, she was having a bit of difficulty relating to him. All she could think about was the possibility of being naked in front of him. It made blasé dinner conversation seem a bit purposeless. The silence must have stretched on too long for his comfort because Philip leaned across the table to say in a low voice, “Lida told me about your husband. I’m sorry.” She waved her hand to put him at ease. “Don’t be sorry.” Philip’s handsome mouth frowned ever so slightly. “I know you’re just getting back on your feet, so to speak. I just wanted to let you know, there’s no pressure about tonight.” Oh, brother. Arden swallowed some more tea while she thought of what to say. His words were kind and nice and still made her feel like an idiot. Like the girl in high school who had to settle for her friend’s younger brother taking her to the Homecoming Dance. Philip smiled. “Let’s just have a good time, okay?” She nodded and smiled in return, though hers felt false. “Okay.” To her surprise, from then on, she did. Philip was adept at weaving the conversation around points that interested both of them and steering it away from subjects that led to awkward silence. He asked her about her job without sounding patronizing, her kids without sounding insincere, her interests without sounding flattering. Dinner was over before she knew it, and she’d actually eaten. They shared a slice of chocolate cake for dessert, Philip paid the bill, and by the time they were out on the sidewalk again, Arden was even more surprised to recognize she didn’t want the night to end. “I had a good time,” she said. “I mean, I’m having a great time.” Did that sound too eager? Apparently not, because Philip grinned. “Me, too. Want to go someplace else? Or do you need to head home for the babysitter?” “No. The girls are with my parents for the night.” Shit. That sounded like a come-on. His eyes flickered, his grin widened a trifle, but he didn’t pounce on the chance to seduce her. “Do you want to go have a drink? Go dancing maybe?” Arden laughed out loud. “I haven’t been dancing in forever.” “Then it’s time, don’t you think?” He held out his hand. “C’mon. The Cadillac Grille has dancing, and it’s right down the street. Nothing too upscale, I promise. I think it’s ’80s night.” She laughed again. “Sold!”

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45

Megan Hart

The Cadillac Grille was packed. Arden glimpsed some familiar faces from high school, but they belonged to people she hadn’t spoken to for more than fifteen years. It felt funny to go over and start chatting, so she kept close to Philip. He took her by the hand to lead her through the crowd, and she didn’t mind. His hand was large, the fingers long, and he engulfed her hand with warmth that didn’t feel threatening at all. It felt nice. When was the last time anyone other than her kids had held her hand? They found a small table and Philip ordered drinks. Dark beer on draught for him, a wine cooler for her. “I’m a real lightweight,” Arden said over the sound of the music coming from the tiny dance floor. “I’d better only have one.” Philip nodded. “Sure. Want to dance?” She wasn’t quite ready to tackle that, but was saved from rejecting him by the arrival of their drinks. She sipped her drink and toyed with her napkin. The music and noise of the crowd made conversation difficult, and Philip didn’t push it. Instead, he tapped his fingers along with the beat. Being with him had somehow become easier than she’d expected. She risked another look. He was Fine with a capital F, as Heather would say, and when he turned to catch her gaze with his own, Arden didn’t look away. His smile sent a shiver down her spine, straight between her thighs. Her nipples perked. Definite attraction. For one instant, Jason’s face flashed in her mind, but Arden pushed it away. Jay was dead. She was not. If she wanted to get back to living, now might be the night to do it. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s dance!” He got up and followed her to the smaller room where the dance floor was set up. She’d picked the song because it was one of her favorites and easy to dance to, but it ended just as they got to the dance floor. The DJ decided the time had come to encourage all the couples bumping and grinding to get a little more serious. He started playing Madonna’s ballad “Crazy For You”. Too late to back out now. Philip pulled Arden into his arms as smoothly as though she’d always been there. Her cheek rested against his chest. His hands cupped her waist. He led the dance, and like everything else he’d proven good at this evening, he was a good dancer too. She was horny, Arden thought as Philip’s hands stroked her back and tangled in her hair. Her breasts ached, the nipples pebbled and rubbing against the silk of her bra. Between her legs, her clit began to throb with every brush against her satin panties. Her thighs rubbed, creating delicious friction, and slickness coated her. He’d be a great kisser, too, she just knew it, but Arden could not find the courage to lift her face to his. They’d just met. But wasn’t this why she’d gone out with him tonight? It was stupid to fool herself into thinking this was just a normal blind date.

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Bachelor Number Four

Philip took the lead. His lips brushed the side of her neck. Her clit jumped, her nipples got even harder, though she wouldn’t have thought they could. Her breath caught. He kissed her again, his hands making sensuous patterns on her back, sliding over her ass, moving up her sides to brush his thumbs on the underside of her breasts. Arden looked up, meaning to tell him she wasn’t ready, that she should just go home, but she didn’t have time to say anything because he kissed her. And it was good. Damn fine, she heard Lida’s whisper in her head, and Arden opened her mouth to Philip’s lips. His tongue dove inside, but didn’t plunder. He took his time, stroking and teasing her with his tongue and lips until her entire body quivered with arousal. She opened her eyes when he pulled away. The song had ended, replaced by another bouncy ’80s pop tune. They’d look like idiots if they kept slow dancing, but Arden wasn’t sure she could stand if he let go of her, since her knees had gone so weak. Philip pulled her toward the edge of the dance floor, out of the way of the other dancers exuberantly bouncing to Cyndi Lauper’s “She Bop”. He tilted his head to look at her, like he was waiting for her permission to kiss her again, and something in her eyes must have given it because he did. The second kiss was even better than the first. Like that first bite of chocolate after dieting for a month, the first drink of cold water after running in the sun, the smoothness of a soft pillow and flannel sheets after undressing in a winter-cold room, Philip’s kiss transported Arden out of the tiny, riotous bar and straight into a lust-induced fantasy. She could do this. Take this man home and fuck the living daylights out of him, no strings attached, just give her body the relief it craved. He was gorgeous, he was nice…he was waiting. But she couldn’t bring herself to just say, Let’s blow this Popsicle stand and screw like bunnies. Philip nodded at the dance floor. “Want to dance some more?” Again, he’d said the perfect thing. She did want to dance. Dance the way she’d done in eighth grade, wild limbs and flying hair, dance until she was exhausted. Because it was fun. He pulled her back onto the dance floor and they began to bop. At first, despite herself, Arden felt self-conscious. Then, looking around, she realized she had no reason to be. Most everyone in the place was half snockered, or didn’t care. Everyone was dancing like junior high students. She wouldn’t be out of place at all. So she danced. And it was fun. More fun than she’d had in…well, she couldn’t remember how long, and Philip, good sport, kept right up with her. He bought her drinks, too, and danced attention on her in a way that made her feel like the Prom Queen she’d never been. It might be because he figured she’d be a sure thing tonight, but even though there were definitely prettier women there, more scantily clad (she saw Samantha’s mother there, too, bottle-blonded and Mary Kayed, resplendent in leather pants and a tank top) he didn’t pay attention to any of them, even when they tried to catch his eye.

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47

Megan Hart

He left her to go to the bathroom, and while he was gone, Arden felt adrift. Not lonesome. More like uncomfortably aware of how much a meat market this place was for a single woman without a date. She kept her eyes flicking back and forth so as not to attract attention. When she saw Philip from across the crowded room, his blue eyes shining in the ’80s disco ball reflected light, it was like a voice came out of the heavens and whispered in her ear, “Tonight.” She’d made her decision. Tonight, Arden Walsh was going to go all the way. With Philip, super-stud, who came so highly recommended. “You’re smiling.” He leaned over to shout in her ear. “What’s so funny?” “Nothing,” Arden replied and linked her fingers through his. “Let’s get out of here, okay?” He nodded, understanding. His tongue swiped across his lips and the glint in his eyes didn’t come from the disco ball any longer. At least, she didn’t think so. It had been a long time, Arden thought, but not so long she couldn’t remember what it was like to see lust in a man’s eyes. It gave her a warm feeling. Hot, actually. Heat seared her nipples, between her thighs, the sensitive place at the back of her neck, the spot Philip’s fingers now stroked as he led her expertly through the gyrating throng toward the front door. Just before they got there, Arden saw him. Shane Donner, staring at her from a tiny side table. His eyes were in shadow, but she’d recognize that full, pouting mouth anywhere. It quirked at her, not quite a smile, but more than a frown, as she passed. Her eyes sought his in the darkness of his corner, but she couldn’t catch his gaze, though she was more certain than anything he was staring right at her. Then the moment passed. The door opened. Philip drew her out, his palm warm on hers and his fingers tightening as he pulled her into his arms just off the concrete steps leading up to the bar. His mouth found hers, his kiss as sweet and erotic as the other two had been, but this time, he added a question. “Do you want me to take you back to your place?” A simple question, and a considerate one, but Arden knew they both understood what he was asking. She nodded, not quite able to speak. Philip kissed her again, softer this time, then let his lips rest on her forehead for a moment before he whispered in her ear, “I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t glad you said yes.” The warm moistness of his tongue teased the curve of her ear, and she shivered. Lust knocked her knees loose, or maybe it was the wine coolers, and she had to hold tight to his arm to keep from stumbling. She was really going to do this. Sleep with a man she barely knew. Fuck a man she barely knew, she corrected herself, using the blunt word to reinforce her decision. They agreed he’d follow her to her house in his car. The five-minute drive seemed to last forever, an eternity before she pulled into the narrow, cracked driveway and slipped the car into the garage. She met him at the side door to the house, the more private entrance. She couldn’t do anything about his car in the drive, but she didn’t need the entire block to be able to see him going in with her.

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Bachelor Number Four

Before she opened the door, Philip kissed her again. More passion this time, enough to push her up against the metal door to the house. He lifted her leg and caressed her thigh, urging her to press herself against him. Taken by surprise, Arden let him. His hand held her leg as he dipped a little to push his cock against her crotch. Arden let out a small sound of surprise Philip must have taken for assent because he rocked harder against her. His mouth opened more, his tongue twirling on her own. His other hand came up to caress her breast, finding the nipple with ease and thumbing it until it stood out in a taut, hot peak. His mouth found it next, wetting her shirt and capturing the bud of flesh between his lips, while his hand went to probe and stroke between her legs. Sensation assaulted her, and though she’d wanted this, asked for it, had even anticipated it, all at once it overwhelmed her. She pushed on Philip’s shoulders. His hand moved faster between her legs, his fingers unerringly finding her clit and rubbing it through her underpants. Her hips moved and her pelvis rocked against his hand because, damn, it felt good to have a man’s touch there. Behind Arden’s closed eyes she saw dark, thick hair, shifting blue-green eyes, an arrogant smile. She smelled Drakkar Noir instead of Polo, felt the smoothness of a creaking black leather jacket beneath her fingers instead of smooth cotton. “Philip, wait.” He looked up, face cast into a mask of shadow by the filtered light of the streetlamp at the front of the house. When she didn’t speak, he eased off, still holding her against the door so she didn’t fall, but no longer pushing his hand against her. He licked his lips and blinked as though trying to get some measure of control. “Arden, I thought you wanted this.” “I thought I did too.” Philip smiled and stepped back. He ran his hands through his hair, rumpling it. The tousling made him look disheveled and delicious, a combination Arden found very appealing, but she didn’t lean over to kiss him again. “It’s…a little scary,” she admitted at last. Philip nodded and put his hands in his pockets. The front of his pants bulged with an erection only moments ago Arden would have been delighted to see. Now it made her feel awkward and uncomfortable. She averted her eyes. “I understand,” Philip said. “Lida told me about your husband and everything. Believe me, I wouldn’t have—” “I know—” “I’m not a total slime—” They both stopped and Arden chuckled, embarrassed. She put a hand to her burning cheek. “I’m sorry, Philip. This was probably a mistake.”

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49

Megan Hart

“Ah, c’mon. Don’t say that.” She couldn’t deny he was charming. “I did have a great time. Really. Thank you.” “I had a good time too. Can I call you?” His question took her aback. “You want to call me?” Philip grinned, teeth flashing white in the dark. “Of course I do.” “I guess that would be all right.” She didn’t sound enthused. “I mean, that would be great. Very nice. Yes. Sure.” “Okay, then. Well, have a good night.” “Thanks again,” she called to his back, but Philip didn’t turn, just gave a little half-wave without turning. She let herself into the dark house, her body still flooded with the sensations of Philip’s kisses and caresses. Regret panged, but she forced it away. It wouldn’t have been fair to him to just…use him, while fantasizing about Shane. The thought made her laugh. Did guys even care about that? It wouldn’t have been fair to herself, she amended. Sleeping with—fucking—Philip would probably have been great. Just what she needed. Release, a fresh start, whatever Lida wanted to call it. But how could she have sex with Philip when Shane Donner’s face was all she could see? His mouth the only one she could taste? Arden shook herself to get rid of the languorous lethargy that had overtaken her. If she was going to have sex with someone, it had to be with someone she really wanted to be with, or else the experience would be no better than if she went out and hired a male prostitute. Having sex with the knowledge it wasn’t going to lead to a relationship was one thing. Fucking a willing partner who was trying to help her out while she wished he was someone else was something else altogether. Hand on the newel post, she let her eyes turn toward the office, where the soft glow of the computer monitor lit the kitchen. As though hypnotized, her feet carried her in that direction. It’s late. You’re tired, she admonished herself, but continued walking. There’s nothing there that can’t wait until tomorrow…but she kept going. She clicked the mouse to get rid of the screen saver and opened up her mail program. Three new messages. She refused to let hope make her heart pound faster, but she clicked on her inbox. The first two were advertisements. The third was from Connex. The smile on her face didn’t seem out of place as she slid into her office chair. She’d been waiting for him to reply. She logged in to her account and clicked on the message. No subject. No salutation, no signature. Four words that slammed lust into her so hard her breath left her in an audible whoosh and her fingers clenched on the mouse so hard it fell, dangling by its cord, off the mousepad.

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Bachelor Number Four

You looked good tonight.

It had been him, there in the corner, that ghost, that phantom from her past. She reached for the mouse and settled it back on top of Keanu’s sunglass-covered eyes. Before she could respond to the message, the Connex chat button blinked. Someone was messaging her, and it could only be one person.

erectorset1241: That was you at the Cadillac Grille, wasn’t it? shesewsbuttons: That was me. She paused before typing again. I thought that was you, but I wasn’t sure. erectorset1241: Your picture didn’t lie. You haven’t changed. shesewsbuttons: Neither have you.

She waited for him to write something else. Nothing. Her heartbeat had just begun to slow and her hands stop shaking when the next words appeared in the small message window.

erectorset1241: Your husband is a lucky man.

Her husband? Arden shook her head, brow furrowed, then realized. Shane thought Philip was her husband. And why wouldn’t he? He’d never met Jason. Had no idea Jason had died. She hadn’t changed her Connex status to “widow” or even “single”, and there were no photos beyond the one she used as her avatar. And how like Shane to send her a provocative email and follow it up with a latenight IM, even though he thought he’d just seen her with her husband. Typically arrogant and bold…but damn, so very, very sexy.

shesewsbuttons: That wasn’t my husband.

The blinking cursor mocked her. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she prepared to tell him she’d been on a date, but he replied before she had the chance.

erectorset1241: I thought you didn’t cheat.

She scowled and sat back, staring at the screen. He was trying to be witty, she could guess that, but also had no trouble imagining the undercurrent of truth to his words. She thought of their last exchange, a heated volley of words that had left her shaking with the same sort of anger she felt now.

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51

Megan Hart

I wasn’t sneaking around, she typed back so fiercely she misspelled sneaking twice before she got it right. I was on a date. Then a moment later: Divorced? “Wouldn’t you love to hear that?” she muttered. Tears stung her eyes and the computer screen blurred for a moment.

shesewsbuttons: My husband died.

There. In black-and-white, the words looked harsher than if she’d said them quietly, or shouted them. Written that way, there could be no other way to say it. Died. Dead. She was a widow. She imagined him squirming in his chair, embarrassed at his faux pas, but knew that was a false picture. He wouldn’t care if he’d put his foot in his mouth. Not Shane Donner, cool as ice, smooth as silk.

erectorset1241: I’m sorry. I didn’t know.

Sorry? Arden rubbed her mouth, which wanted to frown, and scrubbed her eyes, which still wanted to cry. That was unexpected. Her anger faded. He couldn’t have known about Jason.

shesewsbuttons: Lymphoma. Almost two years ago. erectorset1241: I’m sorry. shesewsbuttons: Me too.

He didn’t reply for so long she thought he’d signed off. Just before she pushed her chair away and started up to bed, the next message came up.

erectorset1241: You were on a date? shesewsbuttons: Yes. erectorset1241: Your boyfriend? shesewsbuttons: No. Just a date. Our first one. erectorset1241: You looked pretty cozy.

She blushed, feeling the heat painting her cheeks. She refused to let him make her feel that way. She typed without censoring herself.

shesewsbuttons: My friend Lida set us up. She thought it would be good for me to get laid.

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Bachelor Number Four

erectorset1241: !

That single exclamation point said more than a paragraph could have. Arden laughed, imagining his face. She’d shocked him. A first.

erectorset1241: You should have called me. shesewsbuttons: I don’t have your number.

Oops, that was a little lie. She did have his number, right there on his Connex page. But she wasn’t angry anymore. She was itchy again, anticipating how he’d respond. What he’d say. How he’d flirt.

erectorset1241: You could have emailed me. shesewsbuttons: Oh, right. What should I have said? Hi, Shane, how are you? Want to come over and fuck?

She sat back and watched the screen, aware her breath was coming faster and her throat was dry with anticipation. She’d taken a step she wasn’t sure she was ready for, but somehow typing words on a screen seemed less scary than saying them in person. Than in actually having a man in front of her, ready to get her naked, ready to have sex.

erectorset1241: I’d have been there in ten minutes.

She laughed, both horny and amused. It was a familiar feeling, but one she hadn’t felt in a long time. She remembered all at once that was how she’d often felt with him. Horny and amused, or horny and angry. But always horny.

shesewsbuttons: Sure you would have. You don’t even know where I live. erectorset1241: If you asked me to come there and fuck you, I’d find it. All you have to do is ask.

But she couldn’t do that, could she? Nervousness assailed her, along with a memory so vivid it made her clench her thighs together in a sudden spasm. She thought of the time she’d gone to his apartment, meaning only to drop off a couple of videos she’d borrowed. The second she walked in the door, he’d pushed her up against the wall, been inside her in minutes, made her come hard, twice, before even saying hello.

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Megan Hart

shesewsbuttons: I can’t do that. erectorset1241: Because we didn’t go on a date?

Because w— She stopped. Because why? What excuse could she give? She’d been ready to go to bed with Philip, who she barely knew, just to get laid and get it out of her system. Yet she balked at the thought of having Shane come over, the man she knew could send her to the stars. Someone she knew. Because there’s too much between us, she typed, but didn’t hit Send. There was too much history. Too much angst.

erectorset1241: Arden? shesewsbuttons: I’m here. erectorset1241: Do you want me to come over? shesewsbuttons: No. erectorset1241: You’re lying.

She was lying, but picturing the smug grin on his face as he sat in front of his computer didn’t make her feel better. For one instant she hovered her cursor over the exit button, ready to turn off the chat before she got herself into more trouble.

erectorset1241: You still there?

Her fingers moved on their own, typing before she could stop herself. Yes. I’m here.

erectorset1241: You sure you don’t want me to come over?

Yes. But she wasn’t sure, was she?

erectorset1241: Do you want to come?

Not come over. Come. She shivered at his play on words, so blatant and impossible to ignore when they blinked at her in stark black and white.

erectorset1241: Do you still make that sound?

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Bachelor Number Four

She gasped. Her clit spasmed, her nipples became hard as stones. Her hand went to her heart to hold it inside her chest, convinced it was going to fly right out. That sound. She knew the one he meant, of course, was as familiar with it as she was with the sound of her laughter. He knew just how to work her. He didn’t give her time to respond, just continued.

erectorset1241: I’d like to hear it again.

You can’t hear through the computer, she typed, knowing that was a lame retort, but unable to come up with anything better.

erectorset1241: I can imagine it. shesewsbuttons: This is silly. erectorset1241: You’ve never had cybersex?

She laughed again, hovering now on the edge of hysterical laughter. He was good at that. Keeping her on the edge.

shesewsbuttons: No. erectorset1241: Want to? shesewsbuttons: With you? erectorset1241: No, with George Bush. shesewsbuttons: I don’t know how. erectorset1241: Easy. Just touch yourself and pretend it’s me.

Well, she’d done that often enough, even recently. Her blush got hotter, but her fingers flew over the keys. Are you pretending I’m touching you?

erectorset1241: Yes.

That simple declaration made the breath leave her again, as she imagined him stroking himself. He continued before she could reply.

erectorset1241: I have my cock in my hand, and I’m pretending it’s in your mouth.

She should be offended, taken aback, but the only response she could muster was a low, soft moan.

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erectorset1241: I’m thinking about you on your knees in front of me.

Oh, mercy. She was thinking about that too.

shesewsbuttons: And then what?

Arden crossed her legs and scooted in the chair until her clit rubbed up against her panties. She’d learned long ago that if she rocked her hips in just the right way, she could come without having to touch herself. She needed both hands free to type, and this way she could more easily imagine Shane’s hands on her body, rather than her own.

erectorset1241: Then I push you back. We’re on a bed. I get down between your kne—

A pause, and she smiled while she pushed her hips back and forth, watching the screen. He must be having the same problem, trying to type with one hand. And I lick you, he finished. Bold. Blunt. Just like Shane. Arden swallowed, hard. That feels good. And then you slide up, over my body, and you put yourself inside me. She should feel ridiculous or shameful, typing such things to a man who was nearly a stranger. Instead, she felt empowered. In control. The computer gave her the anonymity she needed, the freedom to let go. A random pattern of letters appeared on her screen, followed by, Sorry. I can’t type and jerk off at the same time. She laughed, throwing back her head.

shesewsbuttons: Maybe we should stop. erectorset1241: I can’t stop now, woman. I’ll explode.

Then why don’t you type and I’ll read? She was certain that one-sided treat would be denied her.

erectorset1241: Ok. I want to make you come. shesewsbuttons: And what about you?

A smiley icon appeared. I’ll take care of myself after.

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shesewsbuttons: How chivalrous. erectorset1241: Where were we? Oh, yeah. I was fucking you.

Yes. She sat back and watched his seduction fill the screen, while she touched herself and pretended it was him.

erectorset1241: I move in and out of you for a minute or two, but I’m too close to coming and I want to hold off. So I ease out of you and go back down. I kiss your stomach. Your thighs. And then, slowly, because I know that’s what you like, I lick your clit. I can hear you moan. You taste like sex and I love it. I put a finger inside you, then another one, and you jump and your moans get louder.

They were getting louder. Who knew he’d be so descriptive? He’d never talked this much to her. Maybe the years had changed him, or the barrier of the computer gave him courage he’d lacked before.

erectorset1241: I’m going to lick you until you come, Arden.

Almost there, she managed to type as her body shuddered. She wanted to close her eyes, but couldn’t miss what he would write next.

erectorset1241: Are you coming?

She pressed the palm of her hand against her center and held it there while her clit beat. She moved. Stars flashed in front of her eyes. She was going over.

shesewsbuttons: Yes. erectorset1241: I want you to close your eyes and imagine me inside you when you do. Do it now. Come, while you pretend I’m fucking you.

She should not find the command sexy, but oh, heaven help her, she did. She was too far gone to hold back now, no thoughts of embarrassment or ridicule could stop her. This was better than being alone with her vibrator or her showerhead. Though it was still her own hand, it was almost like he was there. She closed her eyes and rocked against her hand, thinking of his cock, the length and girth she could still remember after all these years. She thought of his scent, and yes, oh, God, yes, the taste of him. She

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thought of the sound he made at climax, a half-moan, half-garbled exclamation that had never failed to arouse her. She came, hand clutching the top of her desk so hard her fingers went numb. For one dizzy instant her head spun, but after a few deep breaths, she got her equilibrium back. She opened her eyes to find Shane’s message waiting for her.

erectorset1241: Was it as good for you as it was for me?

She couldn’t type any other answer but Yes.

erectorset1241: Good.

Arden squinted at the clock, noting the late hour, but was feeling too replete to get out of her chair. Besides, what was the protocol here? Share a cyber smoke? Embarrassment tried to edge into her emotions, but she fought it off. People did worse things all the time, and really, was it worse to be alone in her bed with her butterfly, or coming in front of the computer screen? At least she had a partner. She hadn’t been laid like Lida wanted, but at least she had a partner.

erectorset1241: Can I call you?

She knew it was impossible to judge tone of voice or body language through written text, which was why there was so much miscommunication on the Internet when people tried to joke. She didn’t get the sense he was joking. Instead, an image of Shane hunched over his keyboard, eyes burning a hole in the screen while he waited for her reply, leaped into her mind. She wanted to say yes. She ought to say no. Arden put her hands to the keyboard, but didn’t know what to type. If she said yes, and he didn’t call, she’d feel like the worst sort of ass. If she said no after what they’d just done… She took the easier way out.

shesewsbuttons: I don’t think so.

With a beep, the computer told her he’d signed off. Just like that, gone. Not another word, like because he didn’t get what he wanted, he stomped off in a huff. “Typical!” Arden closed down the browser window so there’d be no more surprises waiting for her. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at her desktop wallpaper. “Can you believe that jerk?”

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Bachelor Number Four

Keanu said nothing, just gave her a knowing look from under his inscrutable black sunglasses. “Should I have said yes?” Arden sighed and got up from her chair. Her entire body felt languid and luxurious…like she’d just had fantastic sex. Well, hadn’t she?

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Chapter Seven

“How’d it go?” Arden rolled over to look at the clock, phone clutched in one hand, while she swiped at her eyes with the other. “Gah.” “That good?” “Lida, it’s too early to talk.” “Up late, huh?” She couldn’t bear to break Lida’s excited bubble, but she’d never lied to her friend and she wasn’t about to start now. “I didn’t do it with him.” Silence. “No?” “No. Really. We had a great time, and I thought I wanted to…”Arden sighed. “But then I didn’t. It’s complicated.” Lida made a clucking sound. “I know, hon. But you had a good time?” “Yes. Definitely.” “And you’ll go out with him again?” Arden smiled as she snuggled down further into the pillows. “I think so. Maybe.” Lida crowed so loudly Arden had to hold the phone away from her ear. “You liked him!” “I liked him.” “But…?” “But nothing.” She looked at the clock again. “Listen, Bev and my dad are bringing the kids over in about two hours, and I have a lot of work I need to catch up on before then. Can I call you later?” Lida made a disappointed noise. “Okay. You working tomorrow?” “Bright and early, as usual. The girls will be in school and out from under my feet.” Sudden melancholy overtook her. “I didn’t mean that. I love my girls.” “I know what you meant, Arden. You don’t have to explain it to me. I’ve got a truckload of the angelmonsters myself, remember?” Lida gave a low, hoarse chuckle. “And speaking of them, I hear Danny pounding on Henry pretty hard. I’d better go referee. I’ll stop in tomorrow, okay?” They hung up and Arden pulled the covers up to her nose, reliving last night. Had that really happened? Had she really had cybersex with Shane? Oh, good gravy. She really had. She couldn’t stop smiling.

Bachelor Number Four

It was wrong. But it felt oh, so good. Decadent, like eating the entire box of Godiva by herself, only without the damage to her thighs. She stretched and yawned, luxuriating in the soft bed and warm covers. She reached out a hand to the empty space beside her. For the first time since Jason’s death, she didn’t want to weep at the vast expanse in the king-size bed beside her. She rolled over to look at the place he’d always slept, at the extra pillow she hadn’t been able to bear removing, though she never used it. She’d turned a corner. Maybe not in a way everyone would approve of, but her date last night and the session on the computer had done more than ease the sexual frustration she’d been trying to ignore. It had opened her up to starting fresh. “Good morning,” she said aloud, to nobody, and didn’t feel sad that she spoke to an empty room.

Her breakfast of bagel and coffee interrupted by the slamming of the front door, Arden put down the thick Sunday paper and turned in her chair toward the sound of pounding feet. Two shouting voices greeted her. Four small arms flung themselves around her. Two sets of sweet pink lips fought to kiss her cheeks first. “Hello, my lovelies,” she said in what the girls called her pirate voice. She squeezed them until they screamed, then swatted them on the rears and sent them to the cupboard for the doughnuts she’d brought home from the bakery. “Hi, Bev. Where’s Dad?” Bev gave one of her patented eye rolls. “Worn out from those two.” She jerked her thumb toward the powdered-sugar-smeared Aislin and Maeve, who giggled. “They kept us up all night.” Arden turned to give a mock stern look. “Did you really?” “Yes!” cried Aislin. Her sister answered, “Yes, Mommy, we did.” Bev nodded with a wry grin. “They sure did. All the way to ten P.M.” “Is ten P.M. all night, Mommy?” asked Aislin, the serious one. “For Grampa, it is,” Arden replied. She glanced into the living room, freshly vacuumed and tidied. Ah, well, life was short. “Why don’t you girls go into the living room with your doughnuts and watch some cartoons while I talk to Gran?” The look her daughters gave each other was absolutely priceless. With identical grins, they took her up on the offer and went to camp out in front of the cartoon channel. Bev helped herself to a cup of coffee and sat down, then snagged a doughnut for herself. “So? How was it?” Arden laughed and shook her head. “You and Lida, I swear. The third degree. It was very nice.” Bev gave an exaggerated stare around the kitchen. “Is he still here?”

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“No!” Then, softer, with a glance toward the girls, Arden said, “No. Of course not.” Bev chuckled. “Oh honey, your cheeks are bright red. Did he at least give you a good-night kiss?” A flashback of Philip’s tongue in her mouth and his hand on her breast made Arden get up to refresh her still-full mug. “Yes.” “Are you going to see him again?” “If he asks.” Arden looked at Bev. “It was fun to get out. I’d forgotten how much fun it was.” She gave another glance to her sweet angel-monsters. A guilty glance, this time. “It was nice to get out without the girls.” Bev nodded. “I know. Those girls are your life. Anyone who knows you can see that. Don’t let it upset you that you went out and had a good time without them.” Arden sighed. “I’m all they have left.” “Oh honey.” Bev reached around to hug her. “Even if Jason were still alive, you’d want to have some time to yourself once in a while. Being a single parent isn’t easy.” “At least I have you and Dad. The girls love going with you.” “And we love having them.” Bev patted Arden’s shoulder before pulling away. “Don’t you ever worry about that. You need to take time for yourself, Arden, or you won’t be good to anyone. You’re a good mom, honey. Your daughters love you. Don’t feel bad because you went out on a date.” “It’s a lot to think about, Bev. Dating. A boyfriend. Maybe getting married again. How’d you do it?” “When I met your dad, I had no choice.” Bev grinned. “Fell in love. It happens.” Arden looked to her girls again. “I’m not sure if I’m ready for anything like that.” “Don’t worry,” Bev said. “If it happens for you, you will be.”

“So, are you going to go out with him?” “Lida, I don’t know.” Arden bit off the thread and shook out the skirt she’d been working on. The silky material fell in soft silver folds to the floor. “This fabric costs twenty-five dollars a yard. I can’t afford to mess up.” “You’re avoiding the subject.” Lida plucked a dress off the rack and held it up in front of her. “Your talent is wasted with stuff like this, you know.” “My talent, as you put it, is in taking the jobs I’m offered.” Arden looked at the ruffled and sequined monstrosity Lida was now hanging back on the rack. “Even if it’s a fashion nightmare, that’s what the girl wanted for her Homecoming dress. She wanted to be the only one wearing it.” “She will be.”

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Bachelor Number Four

Arden laughed and rolled her neck on her shoulders, then scrubbed at her eyes. She’d been up late again, working on the computer. Fooling around on the computer, she amended mentally. Waiting for a message that never came. “So are you going to go out with him or not?” Arden sighed and looked up. “He asked me out again. I said I was busy. He said he’d call back. He hasn’t. He probably won’t. Does that make you happy?” “No! Why’d you do that?” Lida’s level stare made Arden squirm. “He goes out with other women. I saw him last night at The Fenwick with Babs Stanley.” “He was?” Realizing she sounded jealous, Arden modified her tone. “He’s allowed.” Lida put her hands on her hips. “Babs Peanut-butter-legs Stanley, Arden!” “Peanut butter legs?” “They’re easy to spread,” Lida explained and made a crude gesture. “He’s not dating her. He’s—” “That’s Philip’s business, not mine.” She couldn’t very well say anything, could she? Not after what she’d done with Shane. Okay, so computer sex wasn’t real, but it was close enough. “And that doesn’t bother you?” Lida sounded so affronted, Arden got up from the sewing machine to sit next to her friend. “Philip really was everything you promised me he’d be. We did hit it off. And I almost did it. I almost slept with him. I wanted to. Just not bad enough.” “Damn us women and our tender hearts,” Lida grouched, propping her feet on Arden’s filing cabinet. “It’s not fair that men can go out and sow their wild oats and we can’t.” “It’s okay. I don’t mind. Dating Philip was good for me, even if we didn’t have sex.” Lida raised a cynical eyebrow. “Oh, really?” Arden laughed, feeling self-conscious. “Yes. Really.” “But you won’t go on a date with Shane Donner.” Arden snorted. “He hasn’t asked.” “But what if he does?” “Oh Lida, he won’t.” Lida frowned. “How can you be so sure?” Arden quickly told her about what had happened with her and Shane. Lida’s eyes grew wide and wider, until finally she put her hand over them. “You’re kidding me, right?” “No. I wish I were.” That made Lida put her hand down. “No, you don’t.” Arden laughed, but the chuckle trailed into a sigh. “No, I guess I don’t. But I do.” “Gotcha.” Lida shook her head. “I don’t envy you, hon. So what’re you going to do?”

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That was an easier question to answer. “Nothing,” Arden replied in a tone that refused argument, and turned back to her sewing.

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Chapter Eight

Aislin and Maeve had gone to spend the night with friends, a new arrangement Arden hadn’t expected to bother her so much. Sending them to stay with Gran and Grampy was one thing…but sleepovers had opened up an entire new world. Her girls really were growing up. She’d showered and dressed in a worn sleepshirt, left her hair tangled and damp, and come downstairs to watch a movie. When the phone rang, it sounded so loud in the empty house that she jumped and spilled her popcorn all over the floor. The voice on the other end made her spill her soda too. Arden took a breath, ignoring the mess on the floor for the moment. “I didn’t think you’d call me.” Silence reigned for a brief moment, in which she heard the sound of his breathing. “Why not?” Arden sighed. “Do you need me to spell it out for you, Shane?” “I guess I do.” He sounded the way he always did, cocky and self-assured, but the tone didn’t match his words. “Go ahead and tell me why you thought I wouldn’t call you.” “I thought after our last conversation—” “What are you wearing?” Arden held the phone away from her ear for a moment in shock. “What?” Shane’s voice shifted. Got a little deeper and, heaven help her, sexier. “What are you wearing?” She looked down at her oversized cotton T-shirt. Her wet hair had dampened the shoulders and the material clung to her breasts from her wetness underneath. She wore nothing else. “Why do you ask?” “I’m imagining you in black lace and high heels. Garter belt and stockings. Red lipstick. Black sunglasses.” His words set her heart pounding. He knew how to work her, all right, especially since she’d once worn an outfit exactly like that for him. But he also knew how to add just that touch of incongruity that would make her ask: “Sunglasses?” “Yeah.” “I’m not wearing sunglasses.” He chuckled. The noise traveled through the phone lines, out the speaker, through her eardrum and directly to the pleasure center of her brain. Arden’s thighs spread open and she leaned back in the chair before closing them again. It took effort.

Megan Hart

“Shane, I have to go.” “Kids need you?” “They’re staying with friends,” she said, and the words sounded too much like an invitation. “Goodbye.” “Wait…please?” The please did her in. She walked into the kitchen to grab a cloth for the spill on her rug. “Why did you call me?” “Why’d you send me that message the first time?” She had to think of just what to say, old habits holding her tongue. “I was just…back in town, and someone told me that they saw a sign for your company, and I thought… Well. I thought I’d check it out.” She paused, then added, “I didn’t think you’d answer. At least, not the way you did.” He was quiet so long she thought the connection had broken. When at last he spoke, his voice was even lower, the words so soft she had to strain to hear. “I’d heard you moved back to town. Your message surprised me. I answered you the way I figured you’d expect me to. And then when I saw you that night with that guy…” She waited, but didn’t say anything, giving him the chance to speak. He sighed. “I think about you all the time.” Her breath hitched. “Sure you do.” Another long pause convinced her he was just playing with her, until Shane said, “I always have, Arden. For a really long time.” She frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Just what I said.” Shane cleared his throat. “Look, I know I was sort of an ass with the head games in the past—” “Not just sort of,” she told him, surprised at how bitter she sounded. “You messed with me like it was your job.” “I was stupid.” She sighed. All of it, everything, the times he’d stood her up or flirted with other women in front of her, bragging about how they slipped their phone numbers into his hands and left messages on his windshield—all of that had happened so long ago. And…hadn’t she done her share of poking and teasing, her share of half-truths designed to keep him on the edge? “Yes. You were. We both were, I guess. Or maybe just young.” His laugh sounded rueful. “I told you I’d changed. I mean, at least I’m older. There’s that.” “We’re both older.” She thought of the life she’d lived since leaving him. Her marriage. Her kids. Her business. An entire life she’d never imagined and wouldn’t change for anything.

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Bachelor Number Four

“I mean it, Arden. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night. If you want to know the real truth, I haven’t stopped thinking about you for twelve years.” She let out a slow, hissing breath, flashing back to the last time she’d seen him. Ugly words exchanged, emotions running high, feelings hurt on both sides. “If you want me to believe you’ve been waiting for me for twelve years…” His laughter actually soothed her instead of insulting. “Um, not waiting, no. But I have thought about you a lot. I want to see you, Arden.” “I thought you didn’t have time for dating.” “I’ll make time.” She sighed, wanting to believe him but not ready to put her heart on the line even if for the first time ever he’d given her a reason to believe he meant it. “Shane—” “I want to make love to you again.” The words slid like silk against her skin, and her back arched like he’d stroked her from shoulders to hips. Her nipples jutted against the thin, damp cotton. Her legs parted. She was instantly, completely, turned-on. “Shane.” She’d meant to speak his name in protest, but it came out as a purr of longing. She hitched in a breath, trying, without luck, to keep her voice from trembling. “I know you think I’m just out for a quick fuck, but there’s got to be more for me. I thought I could be that way, but I can’t. There has to be more.” “I want to give you more,” Shane said without hesitation. “Everything you want. Flowers. Walks in the park. All of it.” This set her back so thoroughly she almost could not speak. “You don’t mean that.” “I mean it.” He laughed, and she heard a note of vulnerability in his voice. “All of it. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t sleep. I can’t concentrate at work. I just keep thinking about your smile and the way you sound when you laugh. I think about the way you taste and I can’t stop. I want you so bad I can’t think about or do anything else, and it’s driving me crazy.” “I don’t know—” He interrupted. “I know you have no reason to believe me. It’s not just sex. I mean, I want that, too, but it’s more than that.” “A date?” “More than one.” She smiled and pressed the phone to her ear, her eyes closed. “This was easier when you were cybersexing me on the computer.” “I can do it over the phone, too, but I’d rather do it in person.” “Shane—” “If it makes you more comfortable to talk to me this way, I understand. You don’t have to see me.”

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“It isn’t that I don’t want to see you. I just need some time to think about all of this.” Arden put her hand over her eyes. “Seeing you would complicate things.” “Really?” She heard the smile in his voice. “I must be hard to resist. Hell, Arden, just talking to you right now, I’m hard.” Damn him, he’d done it again. Given her a mental picture that sent lust racing through her veins. Shane, hard, her hand stroking him… “Are you still there?” he asked. “I’m here.” “Are you pretending I’m there with you?” “I have to go.” “Are you pretending I’m touching you?” “Shane, please—” “I love it when say my name, Arden. Say it again.” “Shane.” “Am I touching you?” She sounded like she had a mouth full of syrup, oozing languorous words. “Yes.” She heard his intake of breath. “And I’m kissing you.” “Yes.” “I’m tasting you.” She gave an incomprehensible noise of assent. Her legs parted and the cotton t-shirt slid up over her thighs to expose her naked sex beneath. The air was chilly on her damp curls. She shivered, the spasm sending tingles of pleasure through her entire body. “I want to kiss you all over. I’m going to put my hands all over you.” Her entire body tingled and sang. She could touch herself and send herself over the edge, but she thought listening to him talk about how he’d make love to her might just do the trick without any help from her. “Do you want that?” “Hmmm.” “I want to hear you say it. Say yes, Shane, I want you to make love to me.” Could she say it? Could she really? Could she not? “I want—” “My name. I want to hear you say my name.” “Shane, I want you to make love to me.” The words came out of her like a dam breaking, taking with it the last of her reserves, the end of her shyness, the final vestiges of guilt. She did want it. She wanted him. The wanting was a fire, burning her

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Bachelor Number Four

from the inside out. She’d never wanted anything more, could never want anything as much as she wanted this again… “Arden, will you do something for me?” A smile tilted her mouth, making her lazy, languorous, sex-filled voice sound like she was laughing. “Yes.” “I like that. You didn’t even ask what I wanted first.” She laughed, tilting her head back. “What do you want?” “I want you to stand up.” She did without hesitation, though her legs had gone more than a little weak and standing on them was a dance of balance that had her clutching the chair back for help. “Standing.” “I want you to go to your front door.” Arden frowned. “What?” “Do it. Please.” This didn’t sound as sexy as she thought it was going to, but with a slow chuckle, she did anyway. “Okay. I’m standing at the door.” “Put your hand on it.” “My hand? Shane, what—” “Do it.” The sexy growl was enough to make her shiver, in a good way, even as heat raced through her. “I’m touching it.” The painted wood felt smooth and cool under her fingers. “Now, say it again.” She didn’t have to ask what. “Shane, I want you to make love to me. Please.” “You’re sure?” Beneath the huskiness of arousal, she heard a hint of hesitation. “You’re absolutely sure this is what you want?” Arden cradled the phone against her ear. There could be no turning back now. “I’m sure.” “Is the door locked?” “No.” She always made sure to lock it before she went to bed, but hadn’t yet done so. Her hand reached for the knob, the metal more than cool in her hand. Cold. Like ice on her heated skin. It turned in her hand and she cried out in fear. The door opened. The phone dropped from her hand to thud on the wooden floorboards, and Arden stepped back, stumbling as the door swung open. She might have fallen hard, hurt herself, had Shane not been there to catch her. In the next instant she was in his arms, her back against the slammed door. Her legs went around his waist. His hands cupped her ass as his mouth found hers.

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He savaged her mouth, and she welcomed the sting of his kiss. He moved to her throat, nipping and biting in the way he knew would drive her wild. She cried out and his mouth covered hers again to muffle the scream she most definitely did not want the neighbors to hear. “Say it again,” he ordered in her ear as he left her mouth. She fumbled the words. He hitched her higher, pressed her center against his stomach and urged her to hook her ankles behind him. Up against the door, hard enough to make it rattle in the frame, he held her, while his eyes bored into hers. It had been too long since she’d looked into his blue-green eyes, shadowed by black brows. Time had not dimmed her memory of how she looked reflected in his gaze. She’d forgotten how much bigger he was. He engulfed her. Surrounded her. And even so, as light and small as she felt in his arms, this wasn’t going to work. “Not like it is in the movies,” she whispered. Shane laughed. “No.” He let her slide through the circle of his arms to rest her feet on the floor. Arden linked her hand with his and led him toward the stairs. “Come with me.” He paused in the doorway, his hand linked in hers making her stop, too. Arden looked back at him, a big man wreathed in shadows. A shaft of light from the hall window cut across his face, illuminating his eyes. “Are you sure?” “I’m sure, Shane.” Then she was in his arms again, and he swept her up like a bridegroom carrying his bride across the threshold. The comparison twisted her stomach for a moment in memory of Jason, and she pushed it aside. Jason was gone. They had loved, married, had a life, but that had ended. He’d loved her too much to wish unhappiness for her. A thought struck her. “Are you sure?” The moment stretched out between them, as fragile as gossamer. She didn’t want to speak, lest she break the thread. If it had taken her a long time to admit this was what she wanted, she knew it had taken Shane even longer. His kiss answered her as her put her feet on the ground. Softer this time, it caressed her mouth instead of plundering it. His hands came up to tangle in her hair, to tilt her head and pull her close to him. “It’s all right,” Arden said, as much to soothe herself as him. “It’ll all be right.” She took his hand again and led him toward her bed, where fresh, cool sheets welcomed them. She took him down on top of herself, thighs and arms spread to embrace him in the cradle of her body. They kissed. Slow. Sensual. Mouths opened and closed, feeding their passion. They kissed like they had forever to do it, and she was happy to let him taste her as she tasted him.

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Bachelor Number Four

Her hips lifted under him, moving against him in answer to her body’s call. He answered with a rolling thrust, pressing against her. She felt him, hot, long and hard in the confines of his jeans, and she shivered in anticipation of what it would be like to feel him inside her again. Shane pulled back and stood to tug his t-shirt off over his head. For a moment he stood silhouetted in the light from outside, his chest and stomach tight with muscle and arms flexing with more of the same as he dropped the shirt to the floor. His hands went to his black leather belt. The silver buckle flashed as he snapped it open. Then the button-fly of his jeans came undone as though by magic, and he pushed the heavy denim over his strong thighs and kicked off the jeans. He wore dark boxer-briefs, the front tented. He slid his thumbs into the waistband, but didn’t pull them down. Arden waited, breath caught in her throat, for him to reveal the rest of his body. She’d seen him naked before, those long-ago times, but like everything else about him, her memories had been shadowed and replaced by others. Seeing him now would be like seeing him for the first time. He slid the soft cotton down, exposing himself to her hungry gaze. She swallowed hard at the sight. His belly hair led to a dark, thick patch. His cock rose from the nest of curls, framed by strong thighs. She’d leaned up on her elbows to watch him undress, and though her oversized sleepshirt had ridden up to expose her thighs and give him a glimpse of her own dark curls, when she put her hands to the hem to lift it off entirely, she found she couldn’t do it. Time had been good to him. His body was better now than it had been even back then, taut and firm and unblemished by the years. She, on the other hand… “What’s wrong?” He slid onto the bed beside her, his erection warm on her thigh. Shane put his hand on her belly, over the shirt. “Arden?” “I’m…I’ve…” She fumbled the words, not wanting to sound vain. “I don’t look the way I did twelve years ago, Shane.” His palm made gentle circles on her belly. “I wouldn’t expect you to.” She thought of stretch marks, love handles, breasts changed by nursing and gravity. “I haven’t been naked in front of anyone for a long time.” He did not, thankfully, try to talk her out of her sudden shyness. He kissed her again, hand resting on the stomach she worried was too soft. He caressed her, moving his hand up and down the material of her shirt, passing it over her breasts until her nipples poked hard, like pebbles, through the cotton. His hand drifted lower while he still kissed her. He pulled up the hem and put his hand beneath, slid his fingers up the inside of her thighs, brushed them over her curls and rested his hand again on her belly. With every move, Shane kissed her, each one a slow and subtle seduction. He pulled the hem higher, moved his hand with it, cupped her breast and rolled his thumb across her nipple so she gasped inside his mouth.

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Without urging her to take off the shirt, Shane left her mouth and slid down the bed. His mouth found her bared skin. She tensed, but didn’t protest. He kissed her belly in slow, gentle kisses that traced the curves and lines time had granted her. Arden’s body relaxed beneath him while tension coiled inside her. Every kiss, every brush of his lips and nip of his teeth, every smooth lave of his tongue, went straight to her clit. Arden hovered on the brink, her self-consciousness worn away by his luxurious worship of her body, with all its real or imagined imperfections. It no longer mattered she was not the buff and toned twentysomething who’d stripped off her clothes without a second thought. That was then. This was now. This was here. Arden sat and pulled her shirt off over her head, no longer caring about the rise and fall of her breasts as she moved her arms, or the way the light highlighted her hips and thighs. She lay back, arms open to him, and he returned to her embrace like a key fitting in a lock. Their bodies matched, hip to hip, belly to belly, mouth to mouth. His cock nudged between her thighs, the tip teasing her entrance, but before she had time to say anything, Shane moved lower. He nuzzled her springy curls. And then, oh, mercy, then she felt the flick of his tongue on her clit and she gasped, hips twitching so his hands had to grab her to hold them still. “Shane!” He didn’t answer and he didn’t pull away. He licked her slowly, moving his tongue in a small, precise circle around the tight bud. He found her rhythm without effort, matching the pace she craved and easing her toward climax. His breath caressed her. He kissed her clit, took it between his lips and pressed his mouth on her in a steady pressure that sent her climbing, climbing toward ecstasy. His fingertip probed along her folds, and he entered her. Her slickness aided him. His finger slid inside without effort, smooth, and she cried out and arched upward against the dual sensations of his touch inside and out. He made love to her that way while she lost track of time. Pleasure built within her, until it seemed impossible she could ever feel anything else. With every lick, every stroke, she was certain she could stand no more, positive she’d crash and spiral downward, but with every touch, she only climbed higher until she could feel nothing but Shane’s mouth, his hand, and could hear nothing but her own moans. He pushed deep inside her as he suckled, then licked again. And it happened. She broke. Shattered. Her body tensed and released as pleasure thundered through her. Wave after wave of orgasm crashed through her. Her hands found his hair and she cried out his name as he brought her to a climax so strong it left her breathless and blinded with desire.

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After a moment, she became aware of the weight of his head on her stomach. Arden shifted and Shane moved up along her body to kiss her. His palm closed over her still-throbbing center, and she jumped a little at his touch. She thought she ought to say something, but couldn’t speak. The whisper of his breath on her cheek made her smile. His lips curved against her face in response. “Wow,” she said at last. Shane chuckled. His erection pressed on her leg. She’d just been completely and thoroughly satisfied, but he hadn’t. Arden rolled toward him, capturing his penis between their stomachs. “Make love to me.” Simple words, an invitation, but sincere. He shifted against her. “I’ve been dying to.” She hesitated, thinking of Lida’s gift. “In the nightstand drawer.” He nodded and reached one long arm to hook open the small drawer. Arden reached over him to find the box of condoms. She grabbed one and brought it back, held it up with a smile and tore open the foil. “Ribbed for my pleasure.” Shane stretched out, hands behind his head. His cock rose in the air, a target too tempting for her to resist. Arden had moved to sheathe him with the condom but took him in her mouth instead. He muttered something and put his hand on her hair, clutching the long strands at the base of her neck and holding them out of the way. That show of his consideration was as much a turn-on as anything else he’d done tonight. He tugged, and she understood he was trying to stop her. Arden pulled away, replacing her lips and tongue with her hand, but not stroking. Shane curled his fingers around hers as though to keep her still. “I can’t take much more,” he said. “I’m pretty close.” Arousal speared her at the words. She nodded, understanding how he felt, because she’d just felt the same way. Quickly she slid the condom down his length and in seconds she straddled him. They both groaned as Arden seated herself on Shane’s erection. He twitched inside her, filling her, and she gave another low cry at the sensation of pressure on her g-spot. “I can’t move,” she whispered. Shane chuckled and put his hands on her hips. “Let me help you.” Arden bent low to kiss him, and he lifted his hips to keep himself deep inside. Steadying her, he thrust slowly. Arden matched his pace, their tongues dueling. Breaking for a breath, she slid her mouth along his chin, nipped his jaw, licked the tender spot below his ear and buried her face in the curve of his shoulder. Shane kept moving inside her. His gentle thrusts opened her without pressure, without the pain she’d feared she might feel after so long. “You’re so tight,” he murmured as though reading her mind, and Arden laughed. “I haven’t had sex in a long time,” she reminded him.

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“We should make it last, then.” His hands left her waist to slide up and caress her breasts, her belly, her sides. She let her head tip back to allow her hair to tickle her shoulders in a sensual caress. “I’ll be more than happy if it only lasts another five minutes.” He pushed inside her, his voice throaty and hoarse. “Five minutes is a generous estimate. I’m about to explode.” She tipped her head down to look at his eyes. “Go for it.” With a groan, Shane pumped upward so hard she nearly lost her balance, but again he caught and held her. Again he kept her safe. His hands clutched her hips as he moved. His cock rubbed inside her deliciously, but when he slid one hand around to use his thumb on her clitoris, Arden cried out. Just like that, fast as that, she was going to come again. She hadn’t thought she could. She’d been content not to even try, but now with his cock slamming inside her and his thumb stroking her, she hurtled toward orgasm. This was no soft music and candlelit seduction, no tender lovemaking on a bearskin rug in front of a fire. This was down and dirty, fast and furious, this was fireworks, dynamite, nitroglycerin, H-bomb fucking. It was pure ecstasy. Arden came, thighs locking in orgasmic pleasure against Shane’s sides. Her hands sought to steady herself and her fingers clenched on his smooth, muscled chest. She bent forward, hair a curtain in front of her face, and he reached for her with his mouth. He kissed her, lips mashing, teeth clicking, tongues slicing like swords. She kissed him back the same way. He thrust upward and filled her, while he cried her name in one long moan that made her answer his. The ripples of her orgasm made her body jerk, and he took his hand from her center to give her release, while he moved inside for a few final strokes. Arden let her body fall on top of his. Their breath mingled. The beat of his heart echoed in her chest. His lips pressed on her forehead, his arms tightened around her, and Arden shifted to move to his side. Her head again found the curve of his shoulder. “Just a minute,” Shane said and sat up to take care of what he needed to. He lay back and curled his arm around her to bring her back to his shoulder. They lay in silence for a few moments, so long Arden felt the night creeping up on her. Her eyes grew heavy and threatened to close. Shane’s soft breathing soothed her, warm on her face. “I’m sorry,” he said, which made her eyes fly open. “Sorry? Why?” She tipped her head to look upward, but was unwilling to move enough to see his face.

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He tilted his head, and she glimpsed his eye and the curve of his smile. “I wanted it to be a little gentler for you. You know. With a little more finesse.” Hearing him use the word finesse made her feel suddenly tender toward him. Protective. Arden slid up to kiss his temple and run her fingers through his thick, dark hair. “It was great,” she assured him. “My toes are still curled.” That made him laugh and he hugged her. Then they laughed together until the bed shook, and Arden curled in Shane’s arms to sleep.

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Chapter Nine

The smell of something delicious woke her in the morning, and she rolled over in the tangled sheets to find the unoccupied pillow staring at her. For the first time in a long while though, the pillow held the indent of another head, a stray dark hair, the scent of a man. The bed beside her was vacant, but it was no longer empty. Arden smiled and stretched sore muscles and languid, sated limbs. She got out of bed, threw on a robe, and padded down to the kitchen. “Something smells good,” she greeted. Shane turned from the stove, spatula in hand, and pointed it at the table. “Coffee’s ready. Pancakes will be done in a minute.” “Pancakes? I’m impressed.” He expertly flipped one golden cake and slid another onto a plate already heaped high with the savory fare. “Don’t be. Pancakes and tuna fish sandwiches are about the only cooking I can do.” “Anything I haven’t had to cook is great with me.” Arden helped herself to a mug of coffee and slid into a chair, not sure what else to do. It felt odd to be sitting in her own kitchen while someone served her. Pleasant, but odd. She was used to bustling around, pouring milk, wiping spills, fetching silverware. “Jason never cooked,” she spoke up, unaware her thoughts had formed into words until she heard them. “He was a whiz with the garbage and mowing the lawn, but he never cooked.” She stared down at the wooden kitchen table, a flea market find she and Jason had stripped and refinished together the first year they were married. She traced a long groove, a scratch they hadn’t been able to sand out. The stain had covered the lighter-colored scar, but it would always be there. Like her husband. She could cover up his memory, but it would always be with her. She looked up to see Shane staring at her. He put his own coffee on the table, along with the plate of pancakes. Without a word, he slid into the chair next to her and took both her hands in his. “Do you want to talk about him?” Arden shook her head and squeezed his fingers. “Not really. Not if you mean do I want to give a long, heartfelt speech about him and our life together, and how his death affected me, how I’m still healing, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda. No.”

Bachelor Number Four

That sounded harsher than she’d meant it, and unfair. She squeezed his fingers again. “I mean that I don’t want to have ‘a talk’ like they do in the movies, where everything gets all tied up in a neat package and the heroine moves on to a new lover, fully content to leave her past behind. Life’s not like that, Shane.” He squeezed back and dropped her hands to serve them both food. “I know. I just meant if you wanted to talk about him, that was okay with me.” “I shouldn’t have been so sensitive.” Arden forked a bite of pancake, but didn’t eat it. “I just want you to know that…well, I’m not going to just turn off that part of my life. I have the girls. I have memories. I have things I shared with Jason.” His handsome face showed little expression, and Arden’s heart thumped. She’d said too much. She’d either frightened him or pissed him off. “Maybe I should go,” Shane said. “Give you some time alone.” That wasn’t what she wanted. She’d been alone too long, but Arden wasn’t about to insist he stay if he didn’t want to. She unlinked her fingers from his and put them flat on the table next to her plate of perfect pancakes. She kept her eyes on the table’s scratch as she nodded. “If you need to get going—” Shane stood. “I have some things I need to do today, yeah. I’ll give you a call later, okay?” “Sure. Great.” He hesitated, then bent to kiss the top of her head. Arden didn’t look up as he left the kitchen. She heard the front door close. She stared at her pancakes for so long they got cold, then she got up and put them in the garbage. She had no appetite for them.

With the girls in a cartoon-induced stupor, Arden refilled Lida’s mug and offered a plate of chocolate chip cookies. “What did you do, bake every recipe in the cookbook?” Lida took a cookie and bit into it with a low moan of appreciation. “Awesome, Arden.” “The girls like to bake. I promised them we’d make a cake. We got a little carried away.” She sat down and bit into a warm, fudgey cookie, but not even the sweet chocolate could entirely chase away the bitterness left in her mouth from the morning. Lida wiped her mouth free of crumbs and stared at Arden. “You did it with him, didn’t you? Last night. You and Shane Donner got it on.” “Are you psychic?” Arden gaped at Lida. “How did you know?” Lida glanced toward the living room, where the girls lay on the floor, sprawled on the huge cushions. “Guilty baking. Dead giveaway. You banged Shane Donner and now you feel guilty, so to compensate, you let your kids talk you into baking. Honey, I’ve been there, only for me, it’s playing video games.”

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Arden shook her head and warmed her chilly fingers on her coffee mug. “First of all, I did not ‘bang’ anyone.” Lida raised an eyebrow and took another cookie. “What’d you do? Make looooove?” She drew out the word in a sappy tone of voice that made Arden laugh. “Not exactly.” “I’d say something else, but I don’t want to curse in front of your kids.” Lida laughed. “It was good, right?” Arden sighed. “Yes. Great. Fabulous.” Lida leaned across the table. “So why the long face and guilty baking?” Arden relayed the morning’s conversation. “And last night, he said he wanted more than just sex. He wanted flowers and walks in the park.” Lida, who knew all about Arden’s previous argument with Shane, nodded. “Smart guy.” “But this morning, I think he changed his mind. Or maybe he thinks I did. I don’t know. He asked me if I wanted to talk about Jason, and I overreacted a little.” “Well, what do you want?” Lida asked. “Do you want walks in the park and flowers from Shane? Or just hot monkey love?” Arden looked to where her daughters howled with laughter at the cartoon’s antics. “I don’t know, Lida. I think I’m ready to move on. I mean, to think about it anyway. I feel like I’m done mourning Jay, you know? And I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone. I want the girls to have a daddy—” The tears came without warning, sliding down her cheeks and making her voice hoarse. Arden took a moment to wipe her face and clear her throat. Lida’s eyes had welled with sympathetic tears, and Arden laughed to dispel them. “More waterworks. Sorry.” “Don’t be sorry.” Lida handed her another cookie. “Here. Have a cookie. I promise you, by the time you’re done eating it, you’ll feel better.” Arden took the cookie, but didn’t eat it. “I want to fall in love again, Lida. But I don’t know if it’s going to be with Shane.” Lida shrugged. “Do you think anybody knows that? If we all knew who we’d fall in love with, why would anybody ever bother to date? I think you need to ask yourself if you’re willing to find out.” Arden crumbled her cookie onto the plate. “This was easier when it was just about sex.” “Screaming hot sex,” Lida corrected with a smile. “And you don’t think it’s just that with him?” Arden shook her head, forcing herself to admit something aloud she’d not even admitted to herself. “I don’t think it ever was. If it was just about sex, I’d have slept with him three weeks ago. Or slept with Philip. That would’ve been easier.” “Nothing about sex is ever easy.”

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Arden sighed. “Don’t I know it.” “You’re wasting that cookie,” Lida told her. Arden nodded toward the counter, where three more plates sat. “I think I can spare one.” Lida grinned when she saw the cornucopia of chocolate. “Damn, girl. That must have been some hot, hot loving!” A shiver ran through Arden at the memory. “It sure was.” Lida leaned forward again to look into Arden’s eyes. “Your body might be easily led astray, but your heart knows what it wants. Listen to it, Arden.” Good advice, Arden thought, if she was brave enough to take it.

Shane didn’t call her until Tuesday afternoon, and by that time Arden had convinced herself he wasn’t going to. She’d put her fingers to the phone to dial his number a dozen times on Monday, but had never done it. She hadn’t logged on to her instant messaging account either, afraid to see his name show up on her friends list and know he was ignoring her. When the phone rang at the shop, she answered it with a mouth full of pins, her mind full of the dress she was sewing and the idea she had for a new pattern. “Arden?” Shane’s voice filled her with warmth, like gooey caramel. She spit out the pins. “Hi.” “I figured you’d be here, not at home.” “Here I am. I’m here a lot,” she added, talking too fast but unable to stop herself. “It’s my, you know. Job.” Even through the phone she sensed an awkwardness to their conversation that she didn’t like. Shane’s breathing filled her ear. Heat flared inside her at the memory of the way his breath had caressed her. “Can I take you to lunch?” She looked at the clock, already knowing she was going to say yes. “I only have an hour, I have an appointment—” “I’ll come to you.” Shane showed up in ten minutes, grease-spotted paper sacks in one hand and a paper tray of specialty coffees in the other. Lunch turned out to be delicious grilled sandwiches and homemade fries from the coffee shop down the street, and though Arden always promised herself she’d limit herself to just half a sandwich from that place, she ended up eating the whole thing. “So. Freaking. Good.” She wiped the corner of her mouth with her pinky, catching a glob of dressing and tucking it into her mouth. Focusing on the food was an easy way to keep from blurting out an apology for what she’d said the morning “after”. Or from diving across her desk and tackling him for a little naked time right then and there.

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“Love their stuff. I told you, pancakes and tuna are the extent of my kitchen skills. I’d starve if it weren’t for take-out or my mom’s leftovers.” Arden tilted her head as she sipped from her coffee drink. She’d never met Shane’s family back in the day—they’d spent hours together fucking, but introductions to family and friends had never come up. It had all ended before that could seem important. Still, Annville and its neighbors were all small towns. She’d heard things. “Your mom still lives in Palmyra?” He smiled. “Yeah. She got remarried a few years after my dad died.” “Oh…I’m sorry. I mean about your dad, not about your mom getting remarried. Unless that’s a bad thing?” Arden bit down on her tongue to keep herself from more word-vomit. She hadn’t even known his dad had passed away and felt doubly stupid for it. “No. It’s a good thing. Ken’s a good guy. He’s not my dad or anything, but he’s good to my mom.” Shane shrugged and dipped a last few fries into some horseradish sauce. “That’s good.” “Ken was smart, made sure I knew he wasn’t trying to replace my dad or anything like that. He was…respectful, I guess you could say. He did it the right way, not like some guys who go in and try to make everything fit around them. You can’t ever replace anyone’s father.” Arden focused her attention on her napkin, wiping her fingers and crumpling up her trash to toss in the pail to give her a reason not to look at him so she wouldn’t give away how close to tears she suddenly found herself. Was he trying to tell her something? “No. I guess you can’t.” “Anyway, I was a grown-up. Mostly. Sort of.” His smile was a little tilted, but he didn’t drop his gaze. “Not like your kids. It must’ve been really hard for them.” She thought about that. “It’s been hard for all of us. I used to be afraid they were so young they’d forget him, you know? And I see it in the way they talk about him sometimes. More like a story they’ve been told over and over than something real to them. It hurts, but maybe it’s a blessing, too, you know? That they have this happy story to remember…” She trailed off with a shrug. “My dad died right before I met you.” Shane looked up at her, gaze steady. “And I won’t try to say it’s why I was such a colossal asshole, but…” She held up a hand. “Say no more. That was a long time ago. And I’d say losing your dad entitled you to being a bit of a prick. I just wish that I’d known.” “Do you?” He shook his head a little. “Would it have made a difference? Would you have given me another chance?”

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A few minutes ago she’d had too many words tumbling over her tongue. Now she could barely think of more than two to string into a sentence. Giving Shane another chance back then would’ve changed everything that had happened in her life… “It’s okay. You don’t have to answer that.” He laughed and scooted his chair a little bit closer to her. “You can’t change the past. And I really was a jerk. You remember that night I showed up at your place in the rain?” “How could I forget?” Their knees bumped. “It was the last time I saw you.” “I already knew I’d blown it with you. You’d started seeing that guy —” “The guy I married.” Shane paused. Nodded. “Yeah. Your husband. You’d already started seeing him, and I could tell by the way you talked about him that it was serious.” “I never talked about Jason with you,” Arden said softly. His grin looked a little more normal this time. “I know. That’s how I knew it was serious. If you were just playing, trying to make me jealous or something, I figured you’d have told me everything you could. Anyway, I knew you were serious about him, and I knew it was my own fault for not telling you how I felt about you before that. In the movies when the guy shows up in the middle of the night and the rain, the girl always takes him back, you know?” “In the movies, she’s always in love with that guy, just waiting for him.” She swallowed hard against a surge of emotion threatening to close her throat, steal her voice. “But…I wasn’t in love with you, Shane. And it was probably one of the worst nights of my life having to tell you that.” “It was a pretty big downer for me too,” he said, then laughed, and reached for her hand. His thumb stroked gently over the back of it. “I knew it was too late. And hell…I didn’t know anything about love back then. I just wanted something I couldn’t have and didn’t realize how much until I didn’t have it anymore.” Their fingers linked. She squeezed gently. “Just because I didn’t love you didn’t mean I couldn’t have. It just means…I didn’t. And to be fair, Shane, you weren’t really in love with me either.” He laughed a little louder at that, and she didn’t miss the way his gaze finally cut from hers. “Maybe not. It was a long time ago.” She squeezed his hand again. “I have to tell you something, and it’s the truth. I never stopped thinking about you, either.” He looked at her, but said nothing. Arden drew in a breath. Mistakes were useless if you couldn’t learn from them, and she’d had plenty of time to think about all the ones she’d made with Shane. No matter what happened…or didn’t happen, she wasn’t going to make the same mistakes twice.

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“There was so much I should’ve told you back then. Things you never asked and I was afraid to say because I figured…well, you know, I believed you when you said you didn’t want something real from me. And I was afraid of what you’d do if I told you I did, or at least that I was willing to give it a try.” “You were afraid I’d say no.” “Maybe,” she said, leaning just a little closer, “I was afraid you’d say yes.” The kiss was brief and sweet and tasted just a little of horseradish. She cupped his cheek for a second when she pulled away. Looked into his eyes. “I loved my husband,” she told him, and before he could say anything else, she cut him off. “But that doesn’t mean I’m still mourning. I loved Jason, but he’s gone. It doesn’t mean I have to forget him. It doesn’t mean I can’t make new memories.” Shane smiled. “Are you busy tonight?” It wasn’t what she’d expected. “I don’t have anything special planned, if that’s what you’re asking.” “I want to take you to dinner. All of you.” Arden sat back in her seat. “Really?” He laughed and the awkwardness dissolved like sugar in hot tea. “Yeah. Really. You, me, and the girls.” Arden recognized a fork in the road when she saw it. The choice she made now would determine the path her relationship with Shane would take. Could she know what lay at the end of the road? Nobody ever could. But she couldn’t let that keep her from making the choice her heart told her it wanted. She had to be brave. “I’d like that,” she told him. “Very much.”

She wasn’t sure what to tell Maeve and Aislin about their dinner plans, so she fudged a little bit. “A friend of mine is taking us out to dinner tonight.” Maeve looked up from the spelling words she was writing. “Where are we going?” “Which friend?” Aislin asked from in front of her own homework. “Lida?” “No.” Arden put her hands in her pockets and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “A friend you’ve never met. His name is Shane.” The girls exchanged a glance, but didn’t comment. Maeve shrugged and bent back to her spelling, but Aislin scrunched up her face. “Where’s he taking us? Someplace fancy?” Arden laughed. “I don’t think so. Why?” “Because Samantha says whenever her mom’s dates take them out, they have to go to someplace fancy that serves gross stuff like snails.” “Snails!” Maeve sounded horrified. “Gross! No way am I eating snails!”

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“Shane will not be taking us to a place that serves snails. I promise.” Arden’s heart filled with a love so strong for her darling girls it almost overflowed. They were so dear. And so funny. She was so proud of them. “Good,” Aislin said. “Can we go to McDonald’s?” Maeve questioned hopefully. Arden pursed her lips. “Uh, no. Someplace nicer than that.” “Chinese buffet?” Aislin asked. “Maybe. We’ll see where Shane wants to take us.” Both girls seemed to accept that answer and bent over their schoolwork again. Arden turned back to the sink to wash a last couple of dishes before going up to get changed. “Mommy?” Maeve asked. “Hmm?” “Is this a date?” Arden kept her voice neutral. “Yes, Maeve.” “Told you,” she heard Aislin mutter, and Maeve whispered in reply, “I was just checking.” “Only if it’s okay with you both, though.” Arden wrung the dishcloth and turned to her daughters. The girls both shrugged. Aislin rolled her eyes. Maeve scrunched her nose. “It’s okay with me, as long as he doesn’t make me eat snails,” said Aislin. “It’d be better if he took us to McDonald’s,” Maeve said, then hastily continued when she saw Arden’s look, “But Chinese buffet is okay, too. It’s okay, Mommy.” They were amazing, these resilient children. Arden reached out to hug them both and kiss them, and the girls accepted her mothering without squirming. “You’d better go change, Mommy,” said Aislin matter-of-factly. “Put on some makeup or something. Samantha says her mom always wears a miniskirt on dates.” “Our mom doesn’t need to wear a miniskirt,” Maeve interjected hotly. “She’s beautiful the way she is!” “But she’d be more beautiful if she wasn’t wearing sweatpants,” Aislin pointed out to her younger sister. Arden laughed and squeezed them again. “You’re right. I’m going up to change. You need to have this stuff finished and put away in your bookbags by the time I get down here, okay?” She got another set of eye-rolling and put-upon sighs for that instruction, but she knew they’d do it. Upstairs, her closet became a jungle of mismatched outfits and ugly shoes. What would she wear? Funny how she hadn’t spent this much thought on her outfits before, not on any of the other dates she’d gone on. But now, tonight…it all seemed just that much more important.

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“Not a miniskirt,” she muttered, yanking down a pair of soft cotton trousers from a hanger and adding a long-sleeved, fitted shirt. She held the pieces up to her. “Oh, brother.” She did bother with makeup, though, applying it carefully and taking the time to pin up her hair. Her preparations took her longer than she’d thought. When she caught sight of the bedroom clock, it was already fifteen minutes past five. He must be late, she thought as she took the stairs two at a time to hurtle into the living room. He wasn’t late. Shane sat on the couch, Maeve on one side and Aislin on the other. Both girls were talking a mile a minute. Maeve held up a book from her favorite series about a group of young girls dedicated to solving mysteries. Aislin waved a feathered pen in front of his face, gesturing at the notepad in which she wrote her spelling words. Shane sat in the middle, valiantly trying to pay attention to both of them at the same time, but looking overwhelmed. He looked up as Arden raced into the living room and pulled up short, skidding on the throw rug as she did and managing not to fall by catching herself on the back of a chair. “Ignore the graceful entrance,” Arden said, embarrassed. “How long have you been here?” Shane smiled. “About ten minutes. Maeve and Aislin were telling me about school and stuff.” “I can see that.” Now was not the time to lecture them about opening the door to strangers. “Girls, go get your shoes on.” They scampered to obey, and Shane stood. “They’re great.” Arden laughed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to rescue you sooner.” He shook his head. “Nah. They’re fine. I have nephews that age. They don’t talk quite as much, but they were fine. Really.” Maeve and Aislin whirled back into the living room, shoes on feet. “Ready to go?” Shane asked them. He turned to Arden. “I heard we’re going to the Chinese buffet.” Arden gave Maeve and Aislin a stern look. “Girls, I told you it was up to Shane.” “It’s fine. I love the Chinese buffet.” The girls cheered. Shane grinned. Warmth filled her at the sight of Maeve and Aislin’s victory dance and Shane’s smile. This is going to be all right, she thought. It really is.

Dinner went without a hitch. Her daughters maintained their best behavior. Shane regaled them with stories about his job. Maeve and Aislin competed to see who could tell the funnier knock-knock joke, and Shane was gallant enough to laugh at them all. She felt like it was Maeve and Aislin’s date more than hers, but Arden didn’t mind. Every time Shane looked up to catch her eye, his smile became hers alone.

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Bachelor Number Four

“All right, you monsters,” she said at last, when the girls had each polished off a bowl of ice cream with sprinkles. “We need to get home and get you ready for bed. It’s a school night.” And to her surprise, they both complied without protest. They didn’t argue in the car on the way home either, or complain when she told them to go upstairs and brush their teeth and get ready for bed. They didn’t even push each other on the stairs. “What miracle is this?” she asked aloud, head cocked to listen to the patter of feet upstairs. She looked at Shane. “They are on their best behavior tonight. They must be trying to impress you.” “They’re good kids.” He pulled her into his arms for a quick kiss that made her blush. “I had a good time with them tonight.” There wasn’t time for an in-depth discussion about their relationship, where it was going or what he felt. Baby steps, she reminded herself. Take it slow. “Thanks for letting me meet them.” Arden kissed him again, fast. “You’re welcome. They seemed to like you a lot.” “And how about you?” “I like you a lot, too.” He grinned. “Even if I’m not the bad boy you remember?” “I think, especially because you’re not the bad boy I remember.” The moment stretched between them, caught in their gaze. “Good,” Shane said. “Because I plan on spending a lot of time with you.” She couldn’t stop the smile from stretching across her face. “Good.” The sound of two pairs of feet pounding down the stairs interrupted their kiss. Arden stepped out of Shane’s arms, but not in time to avoid her daughters’ eagle eyes. They didn’t say anything, though they shared another one of those looks that showed Arden how fast they were growing up. “All ready for bed? Teeth brushed? Faces washed?” The routine words came out of her and the girls nodded dutifully. “I’ll be up in a minute to read to you both,” Arden said. “Are you going to leave?” Maeve asked Shane. He looked at Arden. “Only if your mom says I have to.” “You and Mommy can watch a movie,” offered Aislin generously. “She loves to watch movies, but it’s more fun to watch them with someone else.” They were matchmaking. The realization made her want to hug and kiss them both, her girls, who were trying so hard to see that she was happy. “Maybe we’ll watch a movie,” Arden said. “But right now, you have to get to bed. You both have school in the morning.”

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Megan Hart

And wonder of wonders, they headed toward the stairs without a moan or groan. Maeve paused on the staircase. “Good night, Shane!” “’Night, Maeve.” “Are you going to be Mom’s boyfriend?” Aislin asked, pausing so suddenly Arden bumped into her back. “Aislin!” Arden looked over the rail to see Shane’s grin. “I think I might be, if it’s okay with you and your mom,” was what he said, as casually as if she’d asked him if he was going to stay for dinner. “It’s about time,” Maeve said and continued on her way, followed by Aislin, who gave a heartfelt, “You said it!” Arden looked back over the railing, her cheeks aflame, but her heart pounding in triple time. Shane curled his fingers in a little half-wave, and his smile shot deep inside her, all the way to her core. “I’ll be down in a few minutes,” she told him. “I’ll be here,” he replied, and Arden went upstairs to tuck in her angel-monsters and send them off to their dreams, while one of her own waited for her below. Downstairs she kissed him again and settled onto the couch to turn on a movie neither of them would remember much of, if they were lucky. And they would be, she thought as Shane put his arm around her more comfortably than he ever had. Some doors stayed open for a reason.

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About the Author

Megan Hart was born and lived awhile, then did some other stuff. Now she mostly writes books and things. Find her on the internet in any number of exciting and wonderful places, including: her website: www.meganhart.com her blog: www.readinbed.net Twitter: www.twitter.com/Megan_Hart Facebook: www.facebook.com/Megan.Hart Tumblr: www.tumblr.com/tumblelog/readinbed

Look for these titles by Megan Hart

Now Available: Passion Model Amidst a Crowd of Stars Tithed Seeing Stars

Her new toy has something extra she hadn’t counted on. A soul—and an attitude.

Seeing Stars © 2011 Megan Hart Only one week, and Milla Sulay will start her lonely new life on the Homestead planet Selkca. In anticipation, she’s booked passage aboard the Pleasure Princess, where she intends to make use of every amenity—including the Pleasurebots. Mandroids specially designed to give her whatever she wants. For as long as she wants it. Except there’s something decidedly unbot-like about the mouth-watering unit sent to her cabin. Jarden’s surgical enhancements give him advantages over standard-issue human men, with one exception: he’s tired. Weary of servicing an endless parade of horny, arrogant women. Except his beautiful client can’t quite hide her vulnerability behind the disdainful diva act. Before he can figure it out, the cruiser makes an unscheduled stop in Newcity airspace. Not good. In Newcity-speak, he’s a “mecho”…and not exactly legal. After years of working aboard the Princess to earn his freedom, the only place he’s headed is prison. Then Milla unexpectedly makes him an offer he should refuse. Within minutes of having his dream snatched away, Jarden must decide if life as her field husband on Selcka is a way out—or simply trading one form of servitude for another. Warning: Contains space-bending sex, turbulent language, and artificial everything…except the one thing that’s guaranteed to arouse all your senses. Hang on, it’s gonna be a bump-and-grind ride!

Enjoy the following excerpt for Seeing Stars: Milla had bathed and slipped into a sleek toss-away of sheer pink. She’d fastened the stickseam all the way to her throat, where the high collar tickled her chin. The gown itself, meant to be worn but once, swung around the tops of her thighs. Bare beneath, her skin tingled from the application of Arous-All lotion she’d slicked onto her bath-damp flesh after getting out of the tub. She’d paid extra for real water. God-of-Choice only knew how long she’d have to go without real water to drink, much less bathe in. Selkca was a desert planet. Its native population had the ability to produce H2O via some internal synthesis, but the Homesteading Council’s information had informed Milla all ’steaders on Selkca had to rely on monthly deliveries of imported, artificial water. When the knock came at her cabin door, she’d just put down the bottle of Arous-All lotion. The cabin had been fully stocked with the entire line of Arous-All products, guaranteed to “Get you ready!” As if she needed help. She’d been ready practically from the moment she’d signed the travel contract.

She opened the door, already tilting her head in anticipation. She’d ordered a COK-275 from the extensive room service menu, and those ’bots were always tall. The one standing in front of her, however, was taller even than she’d expected. “Miss Sulay?” She nodded and stepped back to let him into the cabin. “I was beginning to think I’d have to call again.” “Sorry for the delay. I’ve been authorized to give you an hour’s credit for the time you had to wait.” The man flashed perfect white teeth unblemished by jewels or etchings. Correction—not a man, Milla reminded herself. The perfect abs and biceps, the sultry smile and eyes the color of the space outside her cabin window belonged to a mandroid. A Pleasurebot. A creature built for the sole purpose of providing sexual pleasure. She looked him up and down, admiring him, and he put his hands on his hips with another grin as the front of his thin toss-away briefs bulged. “You’re wearing Arous-All,” he said. Milla nodded. He had dark hair cut short in the back and falling long over one dark eye. Tawny skin. Nipples like arti-chocolate discs. “Turn around.” He did. The view from the back was as impressive as from the front. He had a tight, rounded ass and long legs. Milla moved closer and cupped his rear with both her hands. He didn’t move, not an inch, as she rubbed her fingertips along the line of his spine and stepped back. She moved in front of him to study his face, noting the brightness of his eyes, the moistness of his lips…and something else. The faint lines of weariness around his bright eyes and moist lips. He hid it well, but he was tired. Pleasurebots didn’t tire. “You’re not a COK,” she said. He shook his head. “No, miss. I’m sorry, but all of the COKs were in use. I can provide all the same functions, though. And give you an additional hour of credit to your account for the inconvenience.” “Two credit hours?” Milla crossed her arms, still staring at him. “What’s your name?” “Jarden.” His voice, low and sexy, peaked her nipples beneath the sheer toss-away. Did it matter he wasn’t exactly what she’d ordered? Milla shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her thighs rubbed together. The Arous-All lotion had seeped into her pores and gone straight to the pleasure center of her brain. She was ready to fuck and come. Did it matter if he wasn’t a COK? “You’re not a ’bot,” she said in a low voice. Jarden’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t blink, didn’t lick his mouth, didn’t even let out a sigh. “No, ma’am. I’m not.” Milla had expected him to lie, and it impressed her that he didn’t. She studied him. “Isn’t that…illegal?”

Jarden shook his head. “The Pleasure Princess qualifies for entertainment exemptions under the Interstellar Transport Act.” “Oh.” Milla had an idea of what that meant. Something to do with slaves. She felt suddenly ridiculous in her flimsy toss-away in front of a real man. “I was expecting a ’bot.” Jarden took her in his arms before she had time to squeak. “I promise you, I can make you just as happy as any ’bot can.” Pressed up against him that way, Milla had to tip her head back extra far to see his face. He was still smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Not the way it would have on a COK or a DIK, whose emotional triggers were genuine and unfakeable. The fullness in his briefs, however, felt real and substantial. She ran her hands up his bulging biceps to rest on his shoulders. “I have to be honest with you,” she said. “I really wanted a ’bot.” She waited for his answer. Jarden pulled her slowly closer, his big hands resting on her rear. “I promise you, I can do anything you want.” He bent to nuzzle her neck, and Milla closed her eyes as she let him. His mouth and tongue felt no different on her skin than a ’bot’s would have. His hands were rougher, but that wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, those rough hands excited her. Maybe it was because of the Arous-All, but the more he kissed and sucked and nibbled at her neck, the hotter Milla got. “All right,” she breathed, voice hoarse, when he slid a hand beneath the hem of her toss-away. “But I’m warning, you, I expect to be completely satisfied, and I’m not interested in working too hard for it.” Jarden pulled away to look at her face, and something in his gaze made Milla wish she’d been a little kinder. “It’s what I’m here for, miss.”

Hit the erotic jackpot.

Sin City © 2010 Lacey Alexander Hot in the City, Book 2 Diana Marsh is trying to change her wicked ways. She’s even dating a guy everyone agrees is prime husband material—conservative and boring, everything her family could wish for. There’s only one secret vice left to eliminate: Marc Davenport, the super sexy co-worker she’s been flirting with online. A business trip to Las Vegas is her opportunity to do just that, to sow the last of her wild oats with Marc before retiring behind the white picket fence. And where better than the ultra-erotic playground of Sin City? A new job awaits Marc in France, and a casual fling with Diana is the perfect send-off—together they indulge in every conceivable hot and scintillating fantasy the town has to offer. Even if her resolve to turn off her sensual nature bothers Marc, he reminds himself that their naughty games are only temporary and she’s a determined woman with a plan. However, when the two are ripped apart without warning, all bets are off. To Marc, Diana’s wild side is too beautiful to be contained. Too beautiful, he suddenly realizes, to let him walk away without playing to win. Warning: Contains a full deck of erotic delights and a heroine who's holding all the cards—three of a kind and everything’s wild. Who says the house always wins?

Enjoy the following excerpt for Sin City: Diana Marsh had just switched off the light next to her bed when the phone rang. She reached out in the darkness and put the receiver to her ear. “Hello?” “Hey, it’s me.” Marc Davenport, her work associate and long-distance friend. Or was he more than a friend? Their office-to-office work calls had gotten longer and more flirtatious recently, and hearing his voice made her smile in the dark. “Hey.” “You sound sleepy—were you asleep? Damn, what time is it there? I totally forgot about the time difference.” “It’s—” she switched on the light and sought out her bedside clock, “—just after eleven, but that’s okay. I only went to bed a few minutes ago.” In fact, she’d decided to turn in after she’d given up on him calling, thinking maybe he’d decided it was a bad idea. “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

So simple, one little word—sweetheart. Despite herself, just the sound of the endearment, delivered in his rich baritone, made her breasts ache a little, her pussy tingle with a hint of awareness. “Yeah, I’m sure. I want to talk.” It was a first for them—a call outside the office. But the workload had been light today and a phone call to ask her opinion on the wording of an entry in the fall catalog had turned into a phone call about a hundred other things: movies they’d seen lately, music they listened to, Marc’s hopes of moving to Europe for a while, and even the guy Diana was currently seeing—although she’d tried to steer away from that topic quickly. Before they’d finally hung up, Marc had said, “Hey, why don’t I call you later tonight? We can talk some more.” She’d agreed, thinking it was safe, harmless. Just a little fun, just talking with a friend—a friend that sent frissons of heat echoing through her veins more and more lately. But she couldn’t think about that—in fact, she had to stop those feelings before they got out of control. Because Diana was done being the black sheep of the family, finished being the Class A Bad Girl she’d been her whole life. She was cleaning up her act, playing it safe for a change. Surely a late night call from a…friend wouldn’t interfere with that? “I thought maybe you’d forgotten,” she said, “or decided not to call.” “No way, sweetheart—you know I love to hear your pretty voice. I’d have called earlier, but I just got home.” “I hope you weren’t at the office all this time.” Marc worked at the company’s corporate headquarters in Las Vegas, where she calculated the time to be after eight. “No, nothing like that. I just went out with some guys after work. A long happy hour.” “Sounds fun.” Diana didn’t do happy hour anymore and the pleasure-seeking part of her soul experienced a small bout of envy. “I wouldn’t have called, though, if I’d known you’d already put on your jammies and gotten all tucked in to bed.” She laughed. “I’m not exactly four years old, you know. I don’t have a strict bedtime.” “Oh, don’t worry, I’m very aware you’re not a little girl.” “And just what does that mean?” she asked in a playful tone. Despite talking on the phone a couple of times a week for the past year, not to mention sending lots of e-mail—some of it work-related, some of it chatty—she and Marc had never met. “I’ve seen your picture on the company website, sweetheart,” he admitted. She’d seen his, too, and found him utterly hot—the best-looking thing in a suit and tie she’d ever laid eyes on. “And?” “And…” She could almost hear his playful grin. “I liked what I saw. A lot.”

“What did you like so much?” “Your gorgeous brown hair with just a hint of auburn, your hazel eyes and creamy skin, and that sexy pinstripe suit you were wearing.” She let out a small giggle. “You can’t even see my suit below the shoulders in that picture. And besides, I didn’t know pinstripes were sexy.” “What can I say? Professional women get me hot.” Diana didn’t reply, just sat up in bed a little and let herself get hot at the knowledge that she wasn’t the only one caught up in a bit of lust here. “Just please tell me,” he said, “that the skirt is as short as I like to imagine it is.” She let her voice go a little husky. “Uh, yeah, it is. I’m a short skirt kinda girl.” “Mmm, I like the sound of that.” But I’m a good girl, too, she reminded herself. Marc had the ability to make her forget herself, the self she intended to be from now on. “So what kind of pajama girl are you? What are you wearing right now?” She sucked in her breath—this was starting to get steamy. And was about to get even steamier, she had a feeling. “The white baby-doll tank and panty set from the catalog,” she said, unduly gratified to know he’d be able to picture the skimpy outfit with ease. They were employed by Adrianna, Inc., a maker of fine lingerie and loungewear, and Marc worked on the team that designed and produced the quarterly catalogs. “Damn, honey—any chance you’re on a cell phone that can send me a picture?” She laughed. “Even if I was, what makes you think I’d send you one of me in my little nighties?” His chuckle was rich and full-bodied. “Well, maybe you wouldn’t, not yet. But I bet I could talk you into it.” “How?” “That’s for me to know,” he said, then shifted the subject back to her baby-doll tank set. “So, tell me, does the ultra-soft cotton we describe in the catalog feel as good against your skin as we promise?” She smiled to herself. “Mmm-hmm. Very soft and silky, just like the copy says.” “And do your nipples show through the white?” Her breath caught and her cunt turned restless, tickly. “I’ll…have to check on that,” she said, aware her voice had come out more whispery than she’d intended. Getting up, she walked to her dresser and glanced in the mirror. Two dark, sexy shadows puckered against the fabric; her breasts turned heavy. Returning to the bed, she picked up the phone, bit her lip slightly, then answered. “Yes, quite clearly, in fact.” “Mmm, I bet you’ve got very pretty breasts.” She wished he could see the come-hither smile she knew she wore. “Well, if I do say so myself…” He offered a light laugh before getting sexy again. “Are your nipples hard?”

Another quick wave of heat. “Um, yeah. They definitely are.” “And your pubic hair? Does it show through the white cotton, too?” What a wicked boy, she thought. And what a wicked girl she was, as well. For the moment, she’d given up trying to fight it. “I don’t have any pubic hair. I keep it waxed off.” A slightly stunned silence met her ear and she enjoyed it immensely. “All of it?” “Yeah.” “God, sweetheart, you just made my dick hard.” Her voice came breathy, hot. “And you just made my pussy wet.” Another tense silence—but this one was pure heat, shared across a distance of over two thousand miles. “Touch it for me,” he whispered. “Will you do that?” “On one condition.” “Name it.” “Wrap your hand around your cock for me.”

Redefining room service…

Suite 69 © 2011 S.L. Carpenter and Sahara Kelly The Zephyre Corporation’s annual convention may be designed to let colleagues kick back in the Florida sun, but Riley McGuire doesn’t plan to let anything interfere with her chance to shine for corporate management. Not even the devastatingly sexy guy playing air guitar—naked—in her hotel suite. Oliver Wilson expected to share a deluxe suite with what he assumed was an amiable Irish-American beer drinker, not an acid-tongued Boston beauty who can’t hold her liquor. Their agreement to muddle through is shot to hell by a tug of attraction that, in the convention’s decadent atmosphere, grows too strong to resist. Oliver discovers there’s more going on under Riley’s suits than good marketing ideas. And Oliver’s gentlemanly teasing gets under Riley’s skin…in a sexy way. Behind closed doors, lust explodes between the sheets. But is a pair of vibrating panties a temporary pleasure, or the start of something that doesn’t require batteries? Warning: Please check with your hotel concierge to ask if the handsome naked man playing air guitar comes with the room. There may be an extra surcharge not covered under federal business reimbursement regulations. Be sure to tip the bellboy.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Suite 69: The elevator ride was a brief, nightmarish interruption in Oliver’s plans. He found himself clenching his teeth in an effort to keep his hands off Riley while the car rose to their floor. The presence of five other people made it an utter necessity, but it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. His mind was overflowing with images of what he wanted to do when he had her alone and the knowledge of what she’d slipped into his pocket. She was holding the key card as soon as the doors slid apart, and the two of them hurried down the passageway, only to curse as her fingers fumbled when she tried to unlock their room. Finally they were inside, reaching for each other even before the thud of the door locking them away had faded. Riley grabbed Oliver, dragging his head to hers, kissing him frantically, hungrily, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and moaning as he pressed against her face in his turn. They stumbled, moved and ended up with his back to the wall, her body a fierce lick of heat against his chest. “God, now.” She tugged at his clothing, managing to pull his jacket off and his shirt free of his pants. He helped, pulling his shirt off, then slipping the tiny straps of her dress down over her arms. She hissed in frustration as her arms caught, panting until she managed to push the silk down and bare her breasts. She leaned against him, the hard buds of her nipples searing his skin. “Oh, better.” She kissed

him again. “Yeah.” His hands stroked her spine and moved downward, inside the rumpled fabric, to find her buttocks. He forced her body against his erection, moving slightly, loving the deep groan she made and the way her thighs parted for him. She bit his lower lip and sucked it as he pushed the rest of her dress to the floor, baring her to his gaze. Not that he could see much, since his brain was rapidly fogging up with a single focus—to get all that heat around his cock. He turned them, putting her back to the wall, intending to unfasten his pants. But she was way ahead of him, her hands already loosening the button at the waistband and delving inside to cup him. It was his turn to groan as she found him, held him—and squeezed. “Jesus.” He tore at his fly and kicked at his clothing as it dropped to his feet. Her tongue left his mouth and traced a path down his neck to his shoulders and his chest as he toed off his shoes. She licked his nipple, then nipped it gently, sighing with delight as she discovered his naked body. His shorts were gone, he wore nothing but his socks, and damned if he had the time or the inclination to deal with those. Her thong vanished with a snap as he grabbed it and pulled it away from her. He heard her gasp as his arousal slipped between her thighs and rubbed against the bare skin of her pussy. “Oliver, please…do it now. I’m gonna explode here any second…” “Wait, we need…” “In your jacket pocket.” She dug her fingers into his ass and rubbed herself over his cock, hot moisture slicking him with her juices. “I know. Wait…” Managing to retain two or three functioning brain cells, he grabbed for his jacket, dropped it twice, cursed and then discovered the foil packet. All while being wonderfully assaulted by a desperately horny naked woman wearing red high-heeled shoes. He’d seen a porno movie like this once, but never imagined he’d be in the starring role one day. “Hurry.” She urged him on with a teasing brush to his balls with her fingertips and a quick bite to his earlobe. Damn, this woman could multitask with a helluva lot more skill than he could. He wanted to suck those hard nipples, explore her pussy with whatever body part was available and fuck her blind. He was barely managing to open the condom and find his own cock, let alone sheath it. Everything else would have to wait. Except the fucking her blind bit. That was top priority. Ready at last, he pressed his palms against her shoulders and held her steady against the wall. She widened her stance, her breath coming quickly in little puffs against his cheek as he positioned himself. “Lift your leg just a little to the left …” He bent his knees slightly as she obeyed and slipped one creamy thigh up against his hip. Letting go of her shoulder, he reached down between them and put the head of his cock where it wanted to

be…against the wet lips of her pussy. And thrust upward.