ROSEMARY HAD BEEN EDGY all day about the vandalism and went for a walk to calm her nerves. Tyler was wrong, she could handle the stress of working, but the vandalism was a worry and she was concerned about her sons.
There wasn’t a quick cure for PTSD, but at least Nathan seemed to be getting better. Still, she’d seen how a terrible experience could change someone. Her husband had become a different person after their daughter died. It was entirely possible that Nathan might never be the same.
As for Tyler?
The weeks at Poppy Gold Inns were the most time she’d spent with him since he’d left for college, but despite that, she didn’t feel much closer to him. And now she’d learned he was keeping the problem in Illinois from her...? She needed to ask about it but knew she’d feel like a fraud since she’d been keeping an even bigger secret.
On the way back to Poppy Gold, she was stopped by a woman going into the Argonaut Market.
“You’re Rosemary, right? We met at the baked potato feed.”
“Yes, and you’re Leah Benton.”
“You’ve got a great memory. I know you’ve been staying at Poppy Gold, but since you mentioned working at Sarah’s Sweet Treats, I keep wondering if you expect to move here.”
“I’m considering it. I love Glimmer Creek.”
Leah looked pleased. “That’s wonderful. You know, I belong to a patchwork quilters’ group if you’re interested.”
“I don’t know anything about quilting.”
“That’s okay, I don’t, either. I only joined a month ago, and it would be great to have another novice. We could learn together. I’ve done historical costuming, but nothing like this.”
Rosemary laughed. “Thank you. I’ve also been asked to join some other organizations.”
“We like getting people involved—that way you’re more likely to stay. But feel free to attend the quilting group, even if you aren’t moving here,” Leah added. “My daughter sent a Poppy Gold guest to a meeting just last week.”
“Your daughter?”
“You may have met her...Carlie Forrester?”
“Oh, yes, she’s the activities director,” Rosemary exclaimed. “I attended her first ghost walk. It was fun.”
“I’ll tell Carlie you enjoyed it.” Leah took a pen and an envelope from her purse and scribbled a note. “Here’s my phone number. Call anytime. We have a garage apartment that’s been empty since our daughter got married. My husband refuses to be a landlord, but if you need a place to stay while you’re looking for something permanent, you’d be welcome.”
“That’s so nice of you.” Rosemary put the envelope in her pocket, warmed by the other woman’s open friendliness. “Would you like to join me for a cup of coffee? Poppy Gold keeps a pot in the reception area.”
“I’d love to, but Mike will be home from work soon and I promised to make chicken potpie for dinner. Maybe we could have lunch this week. Just let me know when you’re available.”
With a nod, Rosemary said goodbye and continued back to Poppy Gold.
The encounter reminded her of how casual her relationships had been in Washington. Hundreds of people had come to her husband’s funeral, but they hadn’t called or visited after that. They weren’t friends, they were just Richard’s business associates and acquaintances. Others had known her through her fund-raising efforts, but genuine friendship had eluded her. Perhaps Glimmer Creek would be different.
Rosemary released a deep sigh.
She didn’t think the little town was perfect. The people were nosy and gossiped, but she liked them and they seemed to like her. Perhaps she would stay. She could always keep the house in DC in case she changed her mind at some point.
Rosemary returned to the suite and found Nathan asleep on a chaise on the porch, his face wonderfully peaceful. She slipped inside and went upstairs, hoping to find Tyler in the office, only to remember he and Sarah were having a picnic together.
“Mom?” Nathan called a short time later.
“In here, darling,” Rosemary called back from the sitting room.
Nathan appeared at the door. “I’m hungry. Since Tyler is eating with Sarah, I wondered if you wanted to order something or reheat the stuff left from breakfast.”
“I’m sure Sarah could do something gourmet with the leftovers,” Rosemary said lightly, “but not me. Let’s order.”
“I’ll call Casa Maria—they’re fast. Then I’m going to the fitness center. The physical therapist thinks I need to work on my upper body strength.”
Rosemary wasn’t a fan of spicy food, but she was happy Nathan was showing an interest. “Get me a chicken quesadilla, no salsa or cilantro.” It was the one dish she was comfortable ordering from Casa Maria, though Tyler had suggested trying the green sauce enchiladas, saying they were mild.
“Okay.”
Obviously, this was one of Nathan’s good days. She supposed PTSD was a little like grief. Sometimes she felt as if things were brighter, that the heavy, desperate weight of loss was slipping away, and the next morning the tears would start because she’d never wake up with Richard again.
One step at a time, she told herself.
The food came and Nathan ate with a reasonable appetite.
Casa Maria was familiar enough with them by now that they’d automatically included a generous amount of salsa for him. A new addition was a container of pico de gallo made of fresh tomato, onion, bell pepper and avocado, with a note saying it wasn’t spicy and they hoped she would enjoy it with her quesadilla. Rosemary could have cried at the kind gesture. Busy as the restaurant must be, they’d made something special, knowing she didn’t care for hot food.
“I don’t understand why you don’t like cilantro, Mom,” Nathan said, breaking into her thoughts. He’d liberally sprinkled his meal with the fresh-chopped herb. “It’s so mild.”
“It doesn’t taste mild to me. I’ve read that some scientists believe strong likes and dislikes to cilantro are genetic,” she told him. “Like the way some cats respond to catnip and others don’t.”
A twinkle appeared in Nathan’s eyes. “You mean we’re like cats?”
“I’m sure they’d disagree. Sarah tells me they have a superior attitude.”
“Like some people I’ve met.” He ate his last bite and shoved the plate back. “I’ll head to the fitness center now unless you need me for anything.”
“Go ahead. I’m going to spend the evening with a book someone loaned me at work.”
He winked. “Romantic?”
“Nonfiction, actually. It’s called Galileo’s Daughter. I doubt it has any romance since she became a pious nun.”
“You’re probably right.”
Nathan kissed her forehead and left. While he was still limping, there seemed to be a spring in his step that she hadn’t seen in a while. And that wink? Hope curled around Rosemary’s heart, even though she knew a full recovery might mean he’d return to active duty. But if that was what he wanted, she would have to want it for him, too.
She’d cleaned up from the meal and was deep into her book when Tyler came in.
“Did you get something to eat?” he asked.
“Nathan was hungry and ordered food from Casa Maria.”
“Nathan ordered?”
Rosemary smiled. “That’s right. He suggested the restaurant and ordered for us both. Now he’s at the fitness center. It’ll give us a chance to talk.”
Tyler’s expression turned more guarded. “Oh?”
“It’s important. Please sit down, I can’t do this with you standing over me,” she said, her heart fluttering.
* * *
TYLER SAT IN the chair opposite his mother, even though he wasn’t ready for another intimate discussion. Sarah’s insights had given him a measure of peace for the first time since his father’s death, and he needed to work through what it meant.
Still, he wished she’d let him stay with her.
“Mom, what’s up?” Tyler prompted.
“I...there’s something you should have been told a long time ago.”
His eyebrows shot upward. “What, I’m adopted?” It could explain his father’s coolness toward him, though he looked enough like Richard Prentiss that it seemed unlikely.
“No.” His mother twisted her fingers so hard he saw the skin whiten over her knuckles. As if he was hearing Sarah’s voice in his ear, telling him what to do, Tyler reached out and put his hand on hers.
“It’s okay, Mom, whatever it is.”
“I’m not sure about that.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “Before you were born, your father and I had a little girl. Her name was Kathryn Louise, but we called her Kittie.”
Tyler stared. This was the last thing he’d expected to hear. “What happened to her?”
“She contracted spinal meningitis when she was a year old. The doctors did everything possible, but she died just a day after she got sick. Richard couldn’t bear to think about her after that. He said we needed a new start where nobody knew about our daughter, so he sold his law practice in Boston and we moved to Washington, DC. He buried himself in work and insisted we never talk about her to anyone.”
Tyler was struck by the pain in her eyes, along with the regret that he’d never known his sister. “I’m sorry,” he said helplessly. There was nothing he could say to make it better. A part of him also recognized that this hidden sorrow explained a great deal about the past.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. Oh, Tyler, we’d decided not to have more children when I discovered I was pregnant. It was too soon, and neither of us could open ourselves the way you deserved. I loved you desperately, but we were terrified of losing you, too.”
Tyler’s mind was spinning, but his mother wasn’t done. She went on to explain how his father had grown up poor, the first member of his family to ever finish high school, much less college. Another secret? Yet it made a curious sense. Richard Prentiss’s drive for success had been obsessive.
“Wasn’t he proud of how far he’d come?” Tyler asked.
His mother shook her head. “In the beginning, but not after Kittie died. Richard believed that if we’d lived in a nicer home or neighborhood, then she wouldn’t have gotten sick. Or that the doctors could have saved her if we’d carried better health insurance. I think he always felt like a failure after she died, no matter how much money we had.”
“How could he blame himself?”
“He just did. It wasn’t his fault, but he kept trying to outrun the pain. He was still trying to outrun it when he died. I...I hope he has peace now.”
“‘Black care never sits behind a rider whose pace is fast enough,’” Tyler said quietly.
“What?”
“I found a bust of President Teddy Roosevelt in Dad’s law office when I cleared it out. There was a brass plate on the bottom with that quote. I suppose that’s what Dad was trying to do...move so quickly and work so hard, his grief couldn’t catch up with him.”
His mother wiped away a tear. “Except you can’t escape what’s inside you. Richard wasn’t the only one who tried to run away—I stayed busy with my fund-raisers and foundations to keep from hurting.”
“It’s all right, Mom.”
“No, it isn’t. I’m not letting myself off over this, darling. I should have done something to help Richard face his grief, instead I went along with what he wanted. Our marriage was good, but I’ll never know how much better it could have been if I’d stood up more for myself. And because of it, you and Nathan lost out. You deserved to understand how far your father had come and why it was so important to him to be successful.”
“Dad was responsible for his own actions.” Even as Tyler said it, he remembered Sarah saying something similar about Milo Corbin, and a small chunk of his guilt floated away.
“It still makes me sad. Just a minute, I want to show you something.” His mother got up and soon returned with a man’s wallet in her hands. “This was your father’s. A few days ago, I found something in here that I didn’t expect.”
Rosemary opened the wallet and Tyler saw an old Christmas photo of the family in the space normally used for a driver’s license. She eased the photo free, turned it over and held it out. The faded picture of a little girl, maybe a year old, smiled up at Tyler.
“Kittie?”
“Yes.” More tears flowed down his mother’s cheeks. “Richard wanted all of her belongings removed from the house. He didn’t know, but I saved what I could and put them in a safe deposit box after we moved to DC. Now I’ve discovered he carried a picture of her. So some part of him knew that he couldn’t forget, that she would always be a part of us, the way you boys were.”
Tyler knew he’d never see his father the same way again. Richard Prentiss had been flawed, but perhaps he’d genuinely loved his family.
“Why are you telling me about her now?”
“Because it’s time. Because I found out about your legal troubles in Illinois and hate knowing you couldn’t share it with us, the way your dad couldn’t share.”
Tyler’s breath hissed out. “How did you find out?”
“Kurt’s uncle told him, and he told me. I know you were trying to protect us, but I can’t let you always be the strong one. That was part of Richard’s problem, too. When I look at Kurt with Sarah, I see how things could have been with us as a family. Maybe it isn’t too late to change that.”
Tyler didn’t know if that much change was possible, but it was a revelation to see his mother’s steady gaze. She wasn’t falling apart; she was moving forward.
“I didn’t want you and Nathan to worry about Illinois,” he explained. He looked down again at the picture of the sister he’d never known. “Have you told Nathan about Kittie?”
“Not yet. I thought it might be easier to speak with each of you separately.”
He got up and handed the picture back. “Then I won’t bring it up unless he does.”
“Thanks. I also want you to go over my finances with me. It’s time I take care of myself.” Rosemary let out a small laugh. “I’m already doing some of it. I needed a place to deposit my paychecks, so I opened an account at the Glimmer Creek Bank. Since then I’ve gotten all the employees at the bakery to use direct deposit for their paychecks. It’s a big savings for Sarah.”
Tyler nodded, proud of how far his mother had come, even though it gave him a curiously hollow feeling to know she didn’t need him any longer. “We’ll do it soon.”
“Great. And, um, I’ve also decided to stay in Glimmer Creek. It’ll be a fresh start for me.”
He wasn’t surprised. Glimmer Creek had a growing appeal for him, as well.
“I’m glad you’re happy here,” Tyler murmured.
Upstairs he sat down and began work on another plan for Sarah’s Sweet Treats, but his mind was only half on the project.
The other half was thinking about how close he’d been to becoming exactly like his father.
For the rest of the night, Tyler worked at his drafting table while he debated and analyzed his feelings. As daylight began creeping through the windows, he finally arched his back and stretched. The inescapable truth was that he couldn’t weigh emotions on a scale like roofing nails from a hardware store.
Yet when he thought about Sarah’s face when she was laughing or teasing or sexily tempting him, it seemed clear what he wanted. But loving her would require a leap of faith, and that wasn’t something he was good at.
He closed his eyes, remembering how the two little girls had dropped onto the blanket next to him and starting talking a mile a minute.
Did he like chocolate or vanilla ice cream? They thought their new mommy was the best new mommy ever, but Sarah was awful nice, too. Was he going to marry her? How did his get face hurt? Who was his favorite, Dory or Nemo? Did he like their papa’s truck? They called it Moby Dick. Was he going to be there for Christmas, because Christmas was super great at Poppy Gold?
His ears had rung.
Still, while it had made him uncomfortable, the twins’ exuberance and trust had been charming. They cut through all the nonsense, getting straight to what mattered to them. But the image that kept crowding everything else out was Sarah’s face, alight while talking to the two little girls. She clearly loved children and could enter their world with ease. She’d be an amazing mother.
Was it that big of a leap to go from seeing Sarah as a friend to seeing her as his wife and the mother of his children? Little girls who would be just like her and little boys who’d adore her as much as he did?
Arrgghh.
Tyler rubbed his face and stood up. He needed a shower to clear his head. Being in love with Sarah didn’t mean he would be a good father, though he’d certainly have a better chance with her help. It also didn’t mean he’d be a good husband...just that he’d do his damnedest to make her happy.
But even supposing Sarah felt the same about him, it would take a whole lot to convince her.
* * *
A FEW DAYS after finding the bag of broken glass on her porch, Sarah went by the police station to talk with Zach...and bring him three more packages she’d picked up from the post office.
“Are you sure you want to know what we discovered?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, though she wasn’t as confident as she tried to sound.
“All right. We X-rayed the packages before opening them and fingerprinted inside and out, but didn’t find anything. This is a list of the contents.”
Sarah took the sheet of paper. Assorted baby layettes. A sippy cup. Lotion. Petroleum jelly. A piggy bank. Diaper cream. A food grinder for preparing homemade baby food. And a smashed baby rattle.
“Do you think the rattle got crunched in the mail?” she asked, keeping her voice as steady as possible.
“No. We’ve also pieced together the glass from the gift bag. There were two champagne flutes, a sparkling cider juice bottle, and a paperweight in the shape of a baby booty. Obviously there’s a baby theme here.”
“That isn’t hard to figure out, but the harassment with my shop isn’t baby-related.”
“I know. Maybe someone is angry at the bakery for whatever reason, and they’re trying to misdirect us.”
“Or the other way around.”
“There’s another possibility...in a way, the bakery is your baby.”
Sarah lifted an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a stretch?”
“At the moment, everything is speculation. We’ve checked out your ex-husband, by the way. He was at a conference in New York when the motorcyclist tried to swipe your deposit, and at another in Miami when the broken glass was left.”
“I didn’t think it could be him.”
“We still had to check. I’d like you to sign a release to have all your mail come through the police station, including mail addressed to the sweet shop. We’ll respect your privacy, but it’ll go through fewer hands this way.” He pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to her along with a pen.
Sarah scanned the document and signed. As a rule she didn’t get much mail. Bills came online and were paid that way, while her friends in Los Angeles preferred to call or email.
“Here you go.” She handed the release back to him.
“Thanks.” He sorted through the new packages she’d brought him. “I’ll have these checked. Are you sure you don’t have a glass baby booty paperweight in your collection? Or had one that’s now missing?”
His face was bleak and Sarah winced, remembering his wife had been pregnant when she died. Babies must be a painful subject for him.
“I...uh, yes, I’m certain. Not that it’s a collection exactly,” she added, hoping to move the discussion away from babies. “Dad started bringing me paperweights when he was in the army because they didn’t break easily in his duffel bag.”
Zach nodded. “A heavy chunk of glass doesn’t come apart without effort.”
“Or rage.”
“I didn’t want to mention that, but yes. Please be careful, Sarah.”
She got up. “Don’t worry. I feel as if everyone in town is on guard duty. Speaking of which, I’d better get going, I’m meeting Gabe McKinley at my house for him to install a security system.”
“Gabe told me about it. I’m glad.”
Sarah left, unsure of how glad she felt. Thanks to her father and Tyler and everybody else, she was coming down with a raging case of cabin fever.
Her dad followed her home every night, and Tyler showed up within an hour of him leaving. Her neighbors were spending an inordinate amount of time doing yard work and had even called 911 the day Tyler swapped his rental sedan for an SUV. She rarely had a minute to herself except when she crawled into bed, and even then she was conscious of the patrols going up and down the street...along with the police cruiser that always seemed to be there when she left in the morning.
The worst part was knowing she did feel safer with so many people watching out for her. What did that say about her independence...and did it matter?
Maybe it didn’t matter. Surely Tyler was right that accepting help with this harassment didn’t mean she was weak.
* * *
“KEEP THIS WITH YOU in the house,” Gabe instructed Sarah several hours later, handing her a gadget on a cord. “Just press the button and help will come immediately.”
A panic button?
Instead of protesting, she smiled politely and let him show her how the system worked, also checking to be sure the exterior cameras wouldn’t invade her neighbor’s privacy.
“Thanks, Gabe,” she said as he was leaving.
“I just wish you’d let me put it in sooner. This person might already be in jail.”
Perhaps, but Sarah suspected the cameras would have just frightened the vandal away. Deterrence was part of the reason for a security system.
Her father showed up a short time later with a load of fruits and vegetables he’d gotten for her and carried them into the kitchen.
“Want me to stay?” he asked hopefully.
“I’m fine, Dad. I’ve got the security system now, and nobody can get near the house without alarms screaming. Besides, you’d be bored to tears. I’ll be cooking and canning, and Tyler is coming over with a floor plan for me to look at. Go home and stop worrying.”
“Set the alarm,” Kurt urged as he was leaving.
Sarah dutifully set the system, only to turn it off when Tyler arrived.
“Why are my eyes burning?” he asked as he walked into the kitchen.
“That’s from the peppers.” She gestured to the piles of bright red jalapeno and red Italian peppers she’d cleaned and seeded. She’d already blended some in the food processor and made a batch of her sweet-hot pepper sauce.
“Hmm. Fragrant.”
She grinned. “It’s worse when I make sriracha. The peppers and garlic have to ferment together for a few days. The garlic gets stronger and stronger and permeates the house. By the time it’s ready to cook, you’re ready to gag on the odor. I can only tolerate making it every other year.”
“Something for me to look forward to.”
Sarah nearly dropped her ladle. While Tyler had been coming to the house for days on the flimsiest of excuses, she didn’t expect it to continue. The idea that he’d be around by the time she was ready to make sriracha sauce was startling. And she hadn’t even said which year she’d be making it.
Still, if he ended up designing her cousin’s house, as well as the hospital, he’d probably be visiting Glimmer Creek often for a while. He might even check on the progress of her remodeling.
A flutter went through her stomach, and her mind began racing with questions.
She kept hoping Tyler would fall in love with her, but what if he did? What about his career plans? How could she fit in with them? She’d have to give up the shop and any thought of children. He’d want to live in a large, urban area close to clients and where he had access to a major airport. Obviously that wasn’t Glimmer Creek. He would be gone for weeks or months working on projects, while she started resenting him.
Stop, Sarah ordered.
Tyler Prentiss wasn’t in love with her. She didn’t have to choose between him and everything else she cared about.
“Um, has Rosemary told Nathan about your sister?” she asked. They’d discussed it after Tyler had learned the truth, and he’d seemed deeply shaken by his mother’s revelations.
“I’m not sure. Nathan hasn’t brought it up, and Mom hasn’t mentioned Kittie since that evening.”
“It took courage to tell you. She could be worried about how Nathan will take it and wants to see how you handle it first.”
“Possibly. Mostly I keep thinking how different our lives might have been if my sister had lived.”
Sarah nodded. “It’s hard not to ask ‘what if.’ I do the same thing about my mom. Like, if she’d stayed with us, what would be different? Maybe I wouldn’t have grown up in Glimmer Creek, or I’d have siblings. Who knows? I might have become an architect instead of a cook,” she said lightly.
“Then we still would have met.”
His comment came close to suggesting that they’d been fated to meet, which didn’t sound like Tyler. He was pragmatic, not whimsical.
Yet he’d helped open her eyes wider about her disastrous marriage. Forgiving herself would be a step forward.
“Will knowing about Kittie change how you see your childhood?” Sarah queried.
“In time, perhaps. I feel awful for Mom and haven’t known what to say to her. It’s as if nothing could be enough. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to lose a child.”
Her heart turned over. Tyler’s expression was filled with regret and compassion. For once he wasn’t holding back. But empathizing with his mother’s grief didn’t mean he’d changed his mind about having a family.
Besides, wouldn’t it be selfish to want something that hindered his dream?
“It was a terrible secret to carry all these years.” Sarah lifted a rack of jars from the canning kettle and set them on the counter to cool.
“Yeah.” After a moment Tyler dropped his gaze to the new blueprints he’d unrolled on the table, and she knew he was ready to talk about something less personal. It was curious how she could understand that and still be so confused about him.
Maybe her only choice was to enjoy the time she had with him, accepting the broken heart that seemed inevitable.
“What are you showing me tonight?” she asked. “You’ve wanted me to keep an open mind until I’ve seen all the options.”
“That’s right.” Tyler gestured to a spot on the top blueprint. “This is probably the last one. Yesterday you said it would be nice to preserve the original speakeasy staircase, so this plan incorporates that idea.”
Sarah deliberately brushed his arm and shoulder as she leaned over the blueprint and felt him stiffen. “I like this plan the best.”
“Uh, yeah.” He sounded hoarse.
With a satisfied smile, she went back to her peppers and began pureeing more of them in the food processor.
“What are you making?” Tyler asked. He’d gotten up to watch. Unlike some people, he didn’t hover at her elbow, staying far enough back that he didn’t interfere.
“Sweet-hot pepper sauce. It’s simple, but the family likes it on Mexican food or over cream cheese. Alone or mixed with mustard, it’s a zippy sandwich spread. All sorts of uses.”
* * *
“SO IT ISN’T a new recipe.” Tyler’s body was still burning at the not-so-innocent way Sarah had leaned against him.
“Just an old favorite. Have a taste.” Sarah poured a spoonful of sauce over cream cheese on a cracker and handed it to him.
Tyler popped the morsel in his mouth. The sweet heat of the sauce was a perfect accompaniment to the cream cheese. “Mmm, that’s fabulous.”
“Thank you.” She’d eaten a cracker herself and flicked her tongue over a trace of sauce on her upper lip.
He eyed her. Sarah wasn’t the type to tease him too much without doing something about it.
As if reading his mind, she rose on her toes and kissed him. “Come upstairs with me,” she whispered against his lips.
Tyler’s heart began pounding so hard he thought it might burst through his chest.
“Okay.”
Sarah led him to the stairs, and he saw her cat sitting on the top landing. The feline spotted him and scrambled away with a hiss.
“I don’t think he likes me.”
“Don’t take it personally. I told you before, Theo doesn’t like strangers.”
A surge of longing went through Tyler. He wanted to stop being a stranger to the people he cared about, but especially to Sarah. She’d already uncovered parts of his soul that he hadn’t known existed. Yet the thought scattered as he watched the gentle sway of her hips.
Her bedroom was simple and uncluttered, with a quilt on the bed in deep blues and greens and turquoise. He pulled her close for a kiss so long and deep that they were both gasping when it ended.
“You’re good at that,” she said.
“You are, too.”
“I haven’t had much practice lately. Except, you know, with you.”
He grinned. “You’ve got natural talent. It’s a quality I appreciate.”
* * *
SARAH’S PULSE RACED. If anyone had told her making love with Tyler Prentiss would be both fun and sizzling, she would have said they were crazy. But here he was, proving she was wrong. It helped that he was totally hot and that his true smile, which she was seeing more and more often, was hell on a woman’s equilibrium.
The phone rang as she stepped backward to remove her chef’s apron. Tyler groaned when she grabbed the receiver and looked at the caller ID. It was Tessa’s business line at Poppy Gold.
Sarah tossed the phone in her T-shirt drawer where it rang one more time, the sound muffled.
Tyler’s smile widened. “Not urgent?”
“This is more urgent. I’ll call back later.” She sat on the bed and gave him a challenging look. “I did a striptease for you the last time, but you didn’t even get your jeans off before the fireworks. It’s my turn to see the show.”
He looked embarrassed, but fair was fair. “Any chance of you inspiring me?” he asked.
“I have to think about it. You’re prepared, right? Anything I’ve got is really old.”
“Always. So, how about that inspiration?”
She debated for a moment, then took her blouse off. Most of the time she wore sensible undergarments, but that morning she’d indulged in silk and lace. Apparently seeing her in a skimpy, semitransparent bra was sufficiently inspiring—Tyler instantly began kicking away his shoes and removing the rest of his clothes. When his boxers came off, her mouth went dry. He really was impressive.
Quickly she shrugged out of the rest of her clothes, and he pulled her to him, hot skin to skin, every inch, her breasts tingling against the dark hair on his chest. Their legs tangled together as they rolled across her quilt, and her breath escaped in a hiss.
Moments like this could be all they ever had, and she wanted to savor every one.