They made short work of the drive to her place and he waited out front as she parked in the garage. Candy took an extra minute in her car before she got out. Her cheeks were feverish and she was still dizzy from that kiss. They were really doing this. They’d really kissed. And now?

They were going on a date.

Wouldn’t her therapist be surprised. Or maybe she’d be concerned.

How well did she really know Jameson? How much did she care? She was a modern woman, mostly. Didn’t people hook up all the time now? There were even apps for that. Her fingers were cool against her kiss warmed lips. That kiss... That told her a lot.

Big ‘ol pussycat? She snorted out loud. Who was he trying to fool? More like the biggest, baddest tiger in the jungle. And didn’t that thought make her tingle all over waiting for him to devour her.

Stop stalling and get your derriere moving.

She had a worked herself into a stomach ache by the time she slid into the seat next to him, she couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Her hands kept fluttering in front of her like small animals she couldn’t control.

He finally held her hand and the two of them just sat there for a minute not saying anything. His hands were warm and soothed her but maybe she didn’t settle him down. Her finger slid over his wrist and she could feel his pulse hammering under the skin there.

In a weird way knowing he was nervous too, not that he’d ever admit it, made relaxing easier.

By the time they had finished dinner there wasn’t any awkwardness left, well, not much. At one point he took her finger in his mouth and licked off a little butter. His tongue swirling around the tip of her finger, the warmth of his mouth left her almost panting. The pain in the neck just smiled at her and went back to eating as if nothing happened. His teasing may have been why she drank more wine than she usually did. He ordered a bottle and then only had a couple of sips. He said he didn’t want it to affect his driving and she was glad they had already left her car at the house.

“Candy?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m ready for dessert now.”

“Oh, did you want something here?” His grin made muscles she hadn’t used in years quiver.

“I’d be perfectly happy to lay you out and have you right here but I’m not sure the management would appreciate it.”

She really must have had too much wine because when she realized what he’d said she started giggling instead of being shocked or scared to death.

“Let’s get you home and then we can think about dessert.”

Jameson held doors open for her and opened the car door and got her situated before he got himself and his chair in. She should have been jumping out of her skin but the wine and Jameson running his thumb back and forth over her knuckles while he held her hand, lulled her nearly to sleep. She didn’t even open her eyes when the car stopped. Maybe she’d had too much wine because lights were flashing behind her eyes. It was the strained way Jameson said to stay in the car that made her open her eyes and look where he was staring.

“Oh! Oh shoot!” She grabbed for the door handle and started to get out of the car. Jameson wrapped a hand around her arm. Even now his touch settled her nerves.

“Candy, I’m serious. Stay here until I take a look around. Promise me.”

“Fine. But I need to know if they took anything.” Both of the large front windows were busted in and the storm door was flapping in the breeze. She couldn’t tell if the inside door was open from this angle. The cops were there and poking around. Jameson spoke to someone and then waved for her to come to them.

“This your house ma’am?”

“Yes, officer.” The front door was closed but that didn’t mean no one had been inside.

“Your alarm system went off about forty-five minutes ago and one of your neighbors also called in because they heard the noise.” He flipped open his notebook. “A Mrs. Moore?”

“Oh!” She looked at the neighbors who were standing outside their houses now. Mrs. Moore had bought her house the same time her parents had bought theirs. When their eyes met the old woman made her way over.

“Candace? Are you alright? I was so worried you were inside and...”

“No, no, I’m fine. I was out with... my friend.” Jameson gave her a distracted smile but went right back to talking to the officer. “Did they damage anyone else’s house?” she asked Mrs. Moore.

“I think they might have done something to Mr. Snell’s house too. Candace, I think I’m done here. I don’t like leaving my home but my nerves can’t take this kind of thing anymore. My daughter wasn’t happy I stayed after the graffiti on my house. She has more than enough room.”

“Oh, I’ll miss you.” She would too, the woman was like a second mother to her. “At least you’ll be able to see your grandkids all the time.”

The woman’s face creased in a smile then fell again. “You should have a few kids of your own by now. That husband of yours wouldn’t want you to still be holding a torch for him.”

Yes, very much a second mother. This was a discussion they’d had many times. “Maybe if I meet the right guy?”

“You won’t meet anyone here, except Mr. Snell?” The woman looked hopeful. Candy shook her head no, almost as a reflex. Mr. Snell was a perfectly nice guy. And he’d asked her out, repeatedly. But there was no tingle, no spark, no melting when he so much as looked at her. No, she’d rather stick to her battery operated boyfriend if it came to that. She and Mrs. Moore hugged and Mrs. Moore promised to see her before she left. She turned to Jameson who was now waiting for her.

“From what they could find, no one went inside. They’ll let you in to pack a bag. You’ll stay at my place. I mean, if you want.”

“I can just stay here.”

She watched as Jameson’s concern morphed to frustration before her very eyes. “Have you lost your mind? The front windows will be covered over with plywood until you can get a glass guy out here. I have a second bedroom. Hell, if you won’t stay with me then let me get you a room somewhere for the weekend at least.”

“I couldn’t impose.”

“I’d like to point out that you’re shaking like a leaf and I have a kitchen that could stand to get used more than it does. You can cook off those nerves.”

“I, I just...”

Mr. Snell approached and broke in. “Mrs. Grant, I’m so sorry to see this. And right after your garage windows too.”

“Mr. Snell. I don’t know where I’ll come up with the money to fix this. I think I’m finally going to have to report it to my insurance. Mrs. Moore said she thought your house was damaged too?”

“Not as badly as yours but yes. Nothing I can’t take care of on my own. I’m glad you were out with your boyfriend.”

“Oh he’s not—”

“Letting her get away,” Jameson cut in. Go pack your bag sweetheart and we can get back to my place.” If Jameson had jabbed Snell with his elbow and winked repeatedly he couldn’t have been more obvious and she should say something but her knees did feel like marshmallows and she just wanted to cry under a hot shower.

She sucked in a few breaths when she stepped into the house and saw the extent of the damage. The urge to give in to her first instincts and curl into a ball on the bed seemed to whisper in her ear. The darker scarier thoughts were still a fog waiting to form into actions she didn’t want to think about.

How could she explain to Jameson that this was exactly why she couldn’t have a gun? To punctuate that thought she grabbed her anti-depressants off the kitchen table on the way out.