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Talking About Sex...
Vicki Lewis Thompson


She's a woman scorned –Back in high school, Katie Peterson asked Jess Harkins to be her first lover, and he turned her down. She grew up to be a mouthy local DJ and he grew up to be a builder of high-rises. Problem is, Jess is building a sixty-story office building right next to the historic adobe structure that houses Katie's radio station. Katie would hate the building on general principles – who needs another office building? – but she especially hates having her sunshine and view blocked, especially by the guy who sabotaged her self-confidence in high school.As the construction rattles her studio windows and she has to drive around street blockades to get to work, her anger builds. On the air, she starts joking about the monstrosity going up next to her station. Then she escalates the campaign, inviting psychological experts to discuss why men feel the need to build skyscrapers and what it says about their sexuality.He's a man ready to explode – Jess used to like listening to Katie on the radio, and had even considered asking her out for old time's sake. He turned her down on the sex because he didn't want a back-seat experience to be the first one for either of them, and he didn't have the money for a hotel. She didn't stay around long enough to hear that explanation, but now he thinks they might be able to rekindle the fire they once had.Instead she's dissing his beloved project. He knows he should just switch off the station, but he's a glutton for punishment. If she were anybody else, he'd laugh. In fact, he's enjoyed her irreverent comments on other occasions. But now she's making fun of his work and that has to stop.The showdown – Jess goes to the station to demand that Katie shut up about his project. She implies that any man driven to build a structure this high is obviously compensating for something. She leaves no doubt what she thinks he's compensating for. And Jess can think of only one way to change her tune . . .









Look what people are saying about

Vicki Lewis Thompson…


“Ms. Thompson does a wonderful job of blending the erotic with romance that is sometimes tender, sometimes funny, and always exciting.”

—Diana Risso, Romance Reviews Today

“Vicki Lewis Thompson has reached a whole new dimension in laughter. A big…bravo! ”

—A Romance Review

“When you pick up a book that bears the name of Vicki Lewis Thompson on the cover, you can expect a great read. She…will make you laugh, cry, need a cold shower and most important fall in love.”

—Fallen Angel Reviews

“Vicki Lewis Thompson never fails to deliver a book filled with intense chemistry, sexy heroes, and just a little bit of naughtiness.”

—Missy Andrews, Fallen Angel Reviews

“Ms. Thompson continues to set the romance world on fire and keep it burning.”

Diana Tidlund, WritersUnlimited.com


Blaze




Dear Reader,

When I was a little kid in Tucson the local paper published rhymes as part of the weather report. One of mine got accepted. Sky is blue. I am not. I love the sun. I love the hot.

A few (ahem) years have passed since then, but some things never change. I still love the hot, whether we’re talking about the heat rising from the desert floor or the heat rising from a Harlequin Blaze novel. To set a Blaze—pun intended—in my hometown of Tucson was a no-brainer.

For one thing, it’s so toasty in southern Arizona that we don’t have to bother with layers upon layers of clothes. I’m sure you can see the obvious advantages to that! Plus there’s something about the starkly beautiful landscape that inspires lusty, primitive emotions. At least, that’s my excuse, and it seems to work for my characters, Jess and Katie.

So come spend some time in my favorite city in the world and let me tell you a story. Oh, and you might want to bring one of those little electric fans. It gets hot down here.

Warmly,

Vicki Lewis Thompson




VICKI LEWIS

THOMPSON

Talking About Sex…







TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON

AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG

STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID

PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND


To my parents, Doc and Randy.

Thanks for bringing me to Arizona.


ISBN: 978-1-408-93209-4

Talking About Sex…

© Thompson Vicki Lewis 2005

First Published in Great Britain in 2008

Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited

Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, including without limitation xerography, photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the prior consent of the publisher, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this work have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l.

® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk




About the Author







Arizona author Vicki Lewis Thompson’s natural element is heat. Her first publishing success while still in pigtails was a weather rhyme for the local newspaper: “The sky is blue/but I am not/I love the sun,/I love the hot.”

Small wonder that some years later Vicki sold her first romance to Harlequin’s steamy Temptation line. After writing nearly eighty books for Harlequin and other publishers, the best-selling author still gravitates toward the heat, including Harlequin Blaze titles.

A finalist numerous times for Romance Writers of America’s RITA award, Vicki has won the Desert Rose’s Golden Quill Award and has been honored by Romantic Times and Affaire de Coeur. Vicki also became a New York Times best seller when her book Nerd in Shining Armor from St. Martins caught the fancy of Kelly Ripa, who promoted it through her Reading with Ripa Book Club in 2003, with many successful Nerds following.

Prior to selling her first book to Harlequin and finding her bliss, Vicki tried on other careers for size. Teaching English proved too restrictive when she discovered she didn’t like being trapped in a classroom any more than the students did. Journalism seemed like a better idea, except that she kept getting assigned to scary stories like rattlesnake milking or parachute jumping.

Finally, her husband suggested she write a romance, which she took as a fine testimonial to their life together. Even better, the career was a perfect fit. Writing romances provides freedom from a schedule without fear of imminent death!

Besides writing, which she’s quite passionate about, Vicki’s favorite activities are traveling and laughing. Marriage to her indomitable husband, He Who Journeys Without a Map, has provided ample doses of both. Now that the kids are grown and Vicki has a laptop, she’s finally positioned to combine all three of her passions. The trip has just begun!


CONTENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

COMING NEXT MONTH




1


JESS HARKINS WAS TOO OLD for fix-ups. But he’d forgotten that fact in a moment of insanity and now was stuck with the woman sitting in the passenger seat of his Jag. Suzanne Dougherty, friend of a friend, billed as lots of fun and just your type…wasn’t.

They’d struggled to make conversation over a very expensive dinner at Anthony’s and were currently en route to the Flying V for dancing because it would be an insult to take her home at nine on a Friday night. God. Why hadn’t he nipped this idea in the bud?

Gabe should have known better than to set him up with somebody like Suzanne. The guy had been Jess’s construction foreman for five years. Plus they’d hung out watching sports and had spent a bunch of Sunday afternoons hiking their favorite mountain trails. Gabe should know by now what kind of woman Jess would like.

Maybe Gabe wasn’t a great judge of character. Or maybe his girlfriend had pushed him into setting up the blind date. In any case, it wasn’t working.

Suzanne reached for the power button on his sound system. “Let’s listen to the radio.”

“Good idea.” Anything to fill the awkward silences.

She punched the button. The minute she did, he remembered where he’d last set the dial…and what came on after the nine-o’clock news Monday through Friday nights.

“Hi, there! Crazy Katie for KRZE, ‘crazy’ talk radio in Tucson, home of that marvelous phallic symbol, the saguaro cactus! It’s Friday, October seventh, and we’re Talking About Sex!”

Suzanne’s shrill laugh bounced around inside the air-conditioned Jag. “Hey, I totally forgot it was nine o’clock.”

“Maybe we should go with some music.” Jess reached for the channel switch.

“No, leave it.” Suzanne caught his hand. “I like her show. Haven’t heard it in a while.”

Jess used to like it, too. He’d made a habit of switching it on weeknights wherever he happened to be—in his foothills home or driving around town. Her sassy voice took him down memory lane and her topic interested him more than a little.

He’d even thought about stopping by the station to ask her out for old time’s sake. It certainly wasn’t out of his way now that he was building a high-rise right next to KRZE’s studio, located in a quaint little adobe dating back to the forties.

He’d considered leaving her a note on his way home from the job site. Wouldn’t she be surprised to hear from him, a blast from the past? She might be seeing someone, of course, but it was worth a shot.

Then, as he’d been about to make his move with a clever little note referencing days gone by, she’d started lobbing grenades at his project. She’d been doing it for a couple of weeks now, egging on the handful of Value Our Roots picketers he continued to deal with. The project had attracted dissenters from the start, with VOR being the most vocal. But once the zoning board had ruled in favor of the high-rise, the protests had mostly died down. Except for Katie’s.

Okay, maybe construction caused a few traffic problems for KRZE’s employees. But soon that wouldn’t matter because the station would have to relocate anyway. Livingston Development Corporation was negotiating with the station’s owners to buy the property.

KRZE was sitting on land that could be put to better use, simple as that. The rest of the properties in that block were already in escrow, and plans had been approved for a shopping mall several stories high. Jess expected to get that contract, too. This development was the most high-profile project he’d ever landed. When it was finished, Harkins Construction would be the big-deal company in Tucson. Jess wanted that kind of job security.

Plus he was having fun. The new buildings would bring more business downtown and add an interesting silhouette to the skyline. They would not be the eyesore devoid of all redemption that Katie had called them on Wednesday night or a testimony to human greed and excess, which was the phrase she’d used last night. They would look nice. Impressive. Worthy of Harkins Construction.

He should have stopped listening after the first time she’d dinged him, but he’d had some perverse need to know what she was ranting about. Still, he didn’t relish being insulted in front of Suzanne. No help for it, though. If he insisted on changing the station he’d look defensive.

“On this show, we’re all sex, all the time,” Katie said. “And here’s your nightly tip from the Kama Sutra. Tired of the same ol’, same ol’ with the woman on top? Ladies, try this—squat down, settle yourself on that bad boy of his, close your legs and use a churning motion. Let me know if it works for you, okay?”

Jess coughed to hide a groan of dismay. Suzanne had been giving him sexual signals all night. This should throw her into high gear.

“Interesting idea,” Suzanne said. “Ever had a woman try that?”

“Not exactly.”

“I think it sounds like a lot of—”

“Work,” Jess said. “It sounds like a lot of work.”

“Wait a minute. I wasn’t going to say that. I think—”

“Tonight we welcome Dr. Janice Astorbrooke.” Katie’s voice drowned out whatever Suzanne might have said. “Dr. Astorbrooke is the author of Thrusting Skyward: Sexual Symbolism in Architecture.”

Jess ground a millimeter off his back molars as he gunned the Jag through an amber light. As if the Kama Sutra tip hadn’t caused enough trouble, now he had to listen to a discussion of high-rise buildings as phallic symbols. He could smell it coming. Katie must have combed the Internet looking for this crackpot.

“Let’s get right to it, Dr. Astorbrooke. Surely on your way here you noticed what’s happening next to our charming little studio. A pit that large means a foundation for a very tall building. Forty stories, to be exact.”

Dr. Astorbrooke had the deep voice of a heavy smoker. “Katie, as long as we allow men to design buildings, we’ll see structures climbing ever higher. At forty stories, this one is modest.”

“Well, we are in Tucson, not Manhattan,” Katie said.

“I’ve noticed you have precious few tall buildings, but you have some, and the motivation is definitely the same, whatever the size.”

Jess braced himself. He wasn’t going to like this.

“And what would that motivation be, Dr. Astorbrooke?” Katie sounded so sweet. So deadly.

“Compensation for sexual inadequacies.”

“Watch out!” Suzanne yelled.

Jess slammed on his brakes and barely missed hitting the car in front of him. “Sorry.” The apology came automatically as his brain continued to deal with what he’d heard. Sexual inadequacies? Shitfire. He was making damn good money building a viable office complex. He sure as hell wasn’t compensating for a goddamn thing.

“Absolutely fascinating,” Katie said. “So it’s a bit like driving powerful cars?”

Katie couldn’t know he had a Jag. But he winced all the same.

“Like that, but even more revealing, Katie.”

Suzanne laughed again, an eardrum-piercing sound. “I just realized something. That’s your building she’s talking about, isn’t it?”

“My company’s constructing it. I didn’t design it.” Way to go, hotshot. Blame the architect. “But I like what the architect has done,” he forced himself to add.

As Dr. Astorbrooke launched into a detailed explanation of her theory, Jess noticed that Suzanne kept glancing at his crotch. Hell.

At long last Katie broke for a commercial. Jess had never been so happy to listen to an ad for Jack Furrier’s Western Tires.

“You’ve built several high-rises around town, haven’t you?” Suzanne’s tone indicated she was definitely on a fishing expedition.

“It’s our speciality.” Yeah, he liked working on tall buildings, but it didn’t mean anything sexual. He liked sex. He was good at it. Sex was one thing and work was another. Two separate subjects.

“And why did you make it your speciality?”

“I like the challenge of multistory buildings.” He wasn’t about to go into his fascination with steel girders or his love of Erector sets when he was a kid. That would be misinterpreted for sure. If he had to say why he liked working on tall buildings, he might admit that he liked the power and prestige implied in them. He’d had very little of that as the son of a mom working the cash register at Target and an absentee father perpetually on the run from the law.

“So what do you think of this theory?”

“I think it’s bull.” He stopped at a red light. He could have made it through another amber, but he wanted to demonstrate that he was in complete control and this discussion hadn’t rattled him at all.

“Of course it’s bogus.” Her voice had a new quality, a decidedly sexual quality. “You’re obviously a very virile guy.”

Damn it. What if she thought he should prove it to her? He looked over, and sure enough, she seemed ready to rock and roll. He had no such inclination.

With a sigh he drove through the intersection and into a turn bay that would take him back in the direction of her apartment. “Suzanne, you’re an amazing person, but—”

“There’s a reality-show quote if I ever heard one.”

Guilty as charged. He’d heard it on one of the Bachelor shows and filed it away for future use. Apparently it only worked on those shows. “Okay, bad line.” He sat in the turn bay waiting for traffic to clear while he tried to come up with something better.

“You’re taking me home, aren’t you?”

He sighed. “I just don’t think you and I are meant to be.”

That sounded equally lame. He was no good at dishing out rejection. Sappy as it sounded, he didn’t like to hurt a woman’s feelings.

“You were fine until sex came into the conversation.”

He hadn’t been fine. He’d been faking enjoyment. Apparently she couldn’t tell, though, and he didn’t want to make things any worse by explaining that.

Suzanne tossed her head. “Maybe this Dr. Astorbrooke is onto something, after all.”

He’d have to take a blow to his manly pride. It was either that or say something hurtful to Suzanne. It wasn’t her fault they hadn’t clicked. “Maybe she is.”

“I guess you’d better take me home then. I’m not in the market for someone with inadequacy issues.”

With a great sense of relief, Jess pulled into traffic. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

“You could get counseling.”

“Yeah, maybe I should.” He managed to hit a bunch of green lights and had Suzanne at her doorstep in no time. A handshake later, he was back in the car.

In a roundabout way Katie had done him a favor tonight, but he wasn’t giving her any credit for that. She was out to get him, and he planned to put a stop to it.

Primed for battle, he headed for KRZE.



KATIE PETERSON ESCORTED Janice Astorbrooke out of the studio during a commercial break for Cialis. After the good doctor left, Katie returned to the studio to tidy up in preparation for Jared Williams, whose program Sports Nuts filled the ten-o’clock slot. As she gathered her notes, she basked in the glow of accomplishment.

The walls of the small adobe building she loved might quiver from the rumble of earthmovers during the day, but she’d gotten in her licks tonight. She felt like a warrior defending her turf. This was her house, even if she didn’t own it.

She’d understood why her grief-stricken grandfather had sold it after her grandmother had died when Katie was in high school. She’d understood why her suburban parents hadn’t wanted it either, although losing her grandmother and the house in the same year had been very tough to take. She’d hated the feeling of having no control over major events in her life. When the construction had been proposed and she could see the building was threatened, she’d vowed to do what she could to save it.

Dr. Astorbrooke had been a real asset to her campaign. Judging from the number of callers during the second half of the show, the topic had stirred up plenty of controversy, which was Katie’s bread and butter. Boosting the ratings even higher while taking potshots at Harkins Construction made for a fine evening’s work.

At ten on the dot Jared ambled into the studio. A tall, lanky guy with glasses, he loved his wife Ruth and weird sports statistics, in that order.

Katie got up and turned the microphone over to him. “Did you catch any of my show?”

“Absolutely.” Jared grinned at her as he sat down and reached for the headset. “Just for the record, I have no urge to construct tall buildings.”

Katie laughed. “I didn’t think so. Ruth seems like a very satisfied woman.”

“Yeah, she got a kick out of your show tonight. She was still listening when I left home.”

“Tell her I appreciate the support. Every listener counts.”

“Will do.” Jared glanced up at Katie as he adjusted the headset. “Have a good weekend.”

“Thanks.” Katie gave him a wave as she slipped out the door and walked down to the hall to the station’s modest lobby.

“Great show,” said Ava Dinsmore, KRZE’s most recent intern from Pima College. Interns worked well for KRZE, which operated on a tight budget.

Ava obviously understood tight budgets. On her twenty-second birthday she’d decided to go back to school and climb out of the minimum-wage rut. She favored multiple piercings and an ever-changing rainbow of hair colors, so radio was a more logical venue for her than TV.

Besides being a general gofer, she covered the switchboard in the mornings and every evening until the station signed off. “You had lots of calls,” she said.

“I know! Wasn’t the response terrific? We even had to bleep out some language. I loved it.”

“You got a few personal calls, too.” Ava picked up several slips of paper.

Katie made no move to take the messages. Ava lived for moments of drama, which included reading messages aloud instead of handing them over. From the beginning Katie had admired Ava’s ability to talk clearly with her tongue stud.

“First priority, Edgecomb called. The owners are pissed about tonight’s show. They’re afraid the negotiations with Livingston Development will go south.”

“Good! Then Livingston can build its precious parking garage somewhere else.”

“Yeah, like on the lot on the other side of us, with the station sandwiched in between. Our signal will be ruined, regardless.”

“That’s why we have to stop all the construction! I’m not accepting defeat yet.”

“Edgecomb wants you to accept defeat. He wants you to go back to the original format—sex toys, foreplay techniques, stuff like that.”

“Last night I reviewed two adult videos and interviewed a topless dancer.”

“I know.” Ava’s spiked hair didn’t move when she nodded. “But in between you’ve been dissing the construction. And tonight the whole show was about that. Edgecomb wants you to cut it out.”

“We’ll see.” On Monday night Katie had a guest scheduled who would talk about the sexual significance of hardware items like bolts, screws and nuts, which would give her an opening for more anticonstruction comments. She really wanted to do that show.

“As Edgecomb put it, you can rag on this project all you want—on your own time.” Ava’s grin was framed by purple lip gloss. “I have to give you credit, though. I never would have dreamed you’d find a way to connect sex with construction.”

“Google is a girl’s best friend.” But the leap had been an easy one. Jess Harkins and sex were forever linked in her mind, although she’d take splinters under her fingernails before admitting to anyone at the station that she had a personal grudge against the general contractor for the project.

“I would love to be a fly on the wall when somebody tells that builder about tonight’s show. Can you imagine some manly construction dude being called a wimpy-dick on the air? Good thing your phone number’s unlisted.”

“I didn’t call him a wimpy-dick.” Katie smiled her secret smile. “That was Dr. Astorbrooke’s theory, not mine.” She hoped the word would get back to Jess, though. Served him right.

“Yeah, I noticed that you protected yourself nicely.” Ava’s dimples flashed. “So are you gonna ease up on the smear campaign?”

Not on your life. “I’ll talk to Edgecomb.” Katie checked the clock on the wall. “What were the other messages?”

“One was from Cheryl, who said—” Ava paused to read from the message “—‘Give ’em hell, Katie. Let’s go for margaritas at six tomorrow. Usual place.’” Ava looked up. “She said a bunch more stuff, but that was the gist.”

“Got it. Thanks.”

“Can I come?”

“Sure, why not?” Katie suspected that Ava was outgrowing her regular crowd of slackers and wanted to find a different group to hang with. Katie and her best friend Cheryl, a trial lawyer, might look pretty good to Ava right now.

“Great! Thanks.”

“It’ll be fun. Any more messages?”

“Uh, yeah. Your mother wants to know why you’re picking on that nice Harkins boy.”

“Oh.” She heard the sound of a second shoe dropping. Obviously Ava had saved that message for last. She was like a bloodhound when it came to sniffing out juicy gossip. Doggone Mom anyway.

Cheryl knew better than to leave any incriminating messages with Ava, but Mom…well, she’d always liked having Jess around. She’d been upset when Katie had broken up with him. She might even want people at the station to know he was an ex-boyfriend.

Ava eyed Katie with interest. “I’m assuming she means the guy who runs Harkins Construction.”

“Um, yeah.”

“Your mom knows him?”

Katie thought quickly. She hadn’t wanted anybody at the station to figure out her connection with Jess, but thanks to dear old Mom, Ava already had an idea there was one. If Katie didn’t come clean, Ava might start to speculate, which could be worse.

Moving closer to Ava’s desk, Katie lowered her voice. “Listen, this can’t become common knowledge.”

“You can trust me.” Ava’s dark eyes gleamed.

“I’m serious. If this information gets out, it could be really bad for me.”

“It won’t get out.”

“Good.” She had to hope that Ava was highly motivated to continue the friendship and be invited to future happy hours with her and Cheryl. “Back in high school I dated Jess Harkins my senior year.”

Ava blinked. “No shit. Wow. I guess it didn’t work out, huh?”

“No, it didn’t.”

“Um, are you into revenge or something?”

“No.” She kept telling herself it wasn’t revenge. Justice was more like it. Protecting what was rightfully hers. “It’s one of those crazy coincidences.”

“But you said he was sexually compensating by putting up that high-rise. That sounds like you have an ax to grind.”

“Remember, I didn’t say he was. Dr. Astorbrooke—”

“I know, I know. But you’re the one who invited her to be on the show. Was he that bad in bed?”

“Ava, I’m not going to answer that.” Katie realized that in trying to prevent gossip, she might have made things worse.

Ava slumped back in her chair. “Which means you’re not gonna tell me why you guys broke up.”

“Nope. Sorry.”

“Damn. I suppose your mom doesn’t know either, or she wouldn’t be saying he’s a nice boy.”

Katie wasn’t so sure about that. A high percentage of mothers, including hers, would have been deliriously happy with Jess’s prom-night decision. But Katie had been wounded beyond belief.

She’d thought she was over it, but then the Harkins Construction sign had popped up next door. The developer’s long-range plan to demolish this entire block that included her grandmother’s house was bad enough, but having Jess be a part of it added insult to injury. She wondered if he even remembered that her grandparents had owned this house.

She might not have told him. They’d been too busy making out in his old Ford Galaxie to talk about family history. She remembered feeling in control of her life again, recovered from the blows of losing her grandmother and the house she’d loved. She’d been sure she could make it all happen—become a disc jockey just like her grandfather, stay in Tucson where her friends were and lose her virginity to Jess on prom night.

But Jess, her first love, the boy she’d counted on to be crazy about her in the same way her grandfather had been crazy about her grandmother, had declined to cooperate with that last part. Once again she’d experienced that horrible loss of control over something important to her. She never wanted to feel that vulnerable again.

“I can see why you don’t want anybody knowing he used to be your boyfriend,” Ava said. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep quiet.”

“I appreciate that more than I can say.”

“No problemo.”

“Thanks.” Katie had no choice but to trust Ava with the volatile information. At least they hadn’t gotten into the nitty-gritty of her sexual history with Jess—or rather, her lack of a sexual history. “Well, I’m outta here. See you at six tomorrow at Jose’s. You know where it is, right?”

“Of course.”

“Maybe we can sit outside on the patio.”

“If I get there first, I’ll snag a table for us.” Ava sounded overjoyed to be included, so maybe she would resist the urge to gossip.

“Sounds good.” Katie headed for the door, an antique that had been hand-carved in Mexico. Her grandfather had hauled it back from Nogales in the back of his pickup, along with several carved interior doors, as a special present for her grandmother. He was always doing things like that to show how much he loved her. And she’d been the same—baking his favorite desserts and haunting garage sales to find the old LPs he collected. They’d had something special going on.

Before Katie could reach for the knob, it turned with a soft click. A thrill of premonition ran down her spine as the door opened. A second later she was looking into a pair of angry brown eyes that brought a jolt of recognition. Her heart raced exactly as it used to back in high school.

Jess Harkins had caught tonight’s show.




2


JESS HADN’T SEEN KATIE in the flesh in years…thirteen, to be exact. But he’d passed her picture hundreds of times while driving around town. A giant version of her gazed down from at least three billboards that he knew of. He’d had a few wet dreams involving Billboard Katie, and he probably wasn’t the only guy.

Billboard Katie reclined on a red velvet couch while wearing tight black pants and a black blouse with a plunging neckline. Her blond hair hung from a center part and framed her face, which wore an expression that promised incredible sex. If she’d looked at him like that on prom night, he wouldn’t have been able to resist her, but at eighteen she hadn’t had the sophistication to pull it off.

Real-life Katie wore a sedate gray pantsuit and her hair in some girly arrangement on top of her head. There wasn’t a hint of sexiness in her expression. Alarm would be more like it. Good. She should be alarmed.

A few minutes ago she’d sounded so carefree that he’d almost lost the urge to create a potentially ugly scene. A window at the front of the building had been left open, and as he’d approached, he’d recognized Katie’s voice as she’d made plans to go out for margaritas tomorrow night.

Then his name had come up and the volume of the conversation had dropped considerably. Knowing she was discussing him with the receptionist had riled him up all over again.

But now that the moment was at hand, finding the right words was more difficult than he’d expected. He should have anticipated that. Making speeches had never been his long suit. Katie, on the other hand, had always been extremely verbal—she’d been senior class president and captain of the debate team.

But now the opening sentence had to be his. “We—” He stopped to clear his throat, irritated with himself for having to do that. “We need to talk.”

“So talk,” said a spiky-haired woman sitting behind the receptionist’s desk. “Don’t mind me.”

Jess had completely forgotten someone else was there until she’d spoken. Apparently Katie still affected him to the point that he blocked out everything but her. That was an unwelcome discovery. He wanted to keep the upper hand in this interaction, and going gaga over Katie wouldn’t help.

Katie glanced at the receptionist. “Ava, this is Jess Harkins, an old friend from high school. Jess, this is Ava Dinsmore, our intern from Pima College.”

“Nice meeting you,” Jess said.

“Same here.” Ava studied him with interest.

“I think I left some files in the conference room,” Katie said to Ava. “Would you check and see if they’re there?”

“I’d be glad to, but I’d better watch the phones. We always get a bunch of calls for Jared’s show on Friday nights.”

“Good point. Then I’ll go check. Jess, why don’t you come on back with me so we can discuss this on the way?”

“It won’t take long.” Jess looked into Katie’s eyes and was rocketed back thirteen years.

She’d been his first love, and he’d had so little to give her back then. He and his mom had moved their meager belongings from Globe to Tucson his senior year in high school. He’d been the new kid, the one with no money and big dreams, a quiet guy who’d been fascinated with Katie’s gift of gab and her blond good looks. He’d envied her sense of belonging.

When she’d taken an interest in him, he’d been thrilled. They’d been a good combo because she’d done enough talking for both of them. To compensate for not saying much, he’d written her poems.

One he happened to remember now had compared her eyes to every blue thing he could think of, including his favorite stonewashed denims. God, he’d been pathetic. And a lousy poet. But her eyes still had the power to make him lose his train of thought.

“Just come with me,” she said. “I need to take those files home tonight and we can talk on the way, kill two birds with one stone.”

“That’s not necessary. I just—”

“I think it is.” She turned and started toward a hallway.

He wasn’t about to deliver his ultimatum to her back, so he had no choice but to follow her like an obedient lapdog. This was not going the way he’d scripted it in his head. He was forced to pass the receptionist, who took no pains to disguise her curiosity.

“I think she still likes you,” Ava said in an undertone.

He stared at her. Surely she didn’t know that he and Katie…surely not.

Ava met his stare and shrugged.

Then again, no telling what Katie had revealed and to whom. But if she’d made her life an open book, she wouldn’t be trying to keep this discussion private. He was confused, not a good state of mind for accomplishing his mission.

Katie paused at an open door and glanced back at him. “Jess?”

Instinct told him not to go in there. His plan had been simple—confront her at work and threaten legal action if she didn’t stop her attacks on his project and on him. Especially on him. But now that he was here, his threat seemed silly and belligerent. Defensive. As if he’d taken the sexual-inadequacy thing seriously.

He should have thought of how it would look, him storming over here to demand better treatment. Instead he should have ignored the whole business. But he was into it now, and leaving without saying anything would make him seem even more idiotic. A firm stand was called for.

He walked toward the door Katie held open. She maintained her position, which forced him to walk past her into the room. Anyone would think she’d initiated this meeting with the way she’d taken charge. He needed to reverse the dynamics, but one whiff of her perfume—the same lemony scent she’d worn in high school—and his brain took a major hit.

Instead of planning his line of attack, he was wondering if she was seeing anyone. She wasn’t wearing a ring—that much he’d noticed right away, though he shouldn’t have taken the time to notice. Her comments on the air made it clear she considered him pond scum.

Focus, Harkins. He was good at that. Harkins Construction, built from scratch in only seven years, was a testament to his powers of concentration and his ability to bring others around to his point of view. Although he wasn’t much of a talker, he’d somehow convinced loan officers to take a chance on him when he’d had no collateral except his will to succeed.

Maybe that’s where he’d gone wrong. He’d barreled over here to issue demands instead of trying persuasion first. His temper had taken control. Katie had always had the power to arouse strong emotions in him—anger, joy, passion. Reasonable discussion wasn’t normal with them, but that insight had arrived about thirty minutes late.

The conference room had a couple of windows covered with wood-toned plantation shutters, and a desert mural decorated one wall. The large oak table in the middle looked as if it had come from a Spanish hacienda. He could imagine how much Katie enjoyed working in this old adobe house. She’d always loved anything Southwestern.

When the door closed, he turned around. He and Katie were alone for the first time since the night of the senior prom. And just like that night, he couldn’t figure out what to say to her.



AS THEY STOOD FACING EACH other, close enough that they could reach out and hold hands if they chose to, Katie’s heart hammered like a set of bongos. She’d always been fascinated by Jess’s mouth. His full bottom lip had been so much fun to nibble on, and when he’d chosen to use that mouth on her breasts, she’d experienced a little bit of heaven.

She looked away from that tempting mouth. Now was not the time to be thinking of how much she’d loved making out with him. Being alone in the backseat of a car with Jess used to make her forget where they were and what time it was. She’d blown her curfew more than once because of that.

She needed to take a deep breath, but that might telegraph her nervousness, so she made do with the small amount of air in her lungs. As a result, her voice sounded more breathy than usual. “I take it you’re upset about my comments on the air recently,” she said.

“Yeah, especially tonight’s comments. You’re making this personal and I don’t like it.”

Although she met his gaze, she was trembling and she didn’t want him to notice. She gripped the back of a mission-style chair to steady herself. “Too bad. I call ’em like I see ’em.”

“I’m not compensating for anything, Katie.”

“That’s not the way the experts see it.”

He sighed. “Please just tell me why you’re doing this.”

That sigh almost defeated her. When they’d dated, that kind of heartfelt sigh had made her want to gather him into her arms and make everything better. At times Jess had seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, and she’d wanted to soothe away his cares.

But sigh or no sigh, he was still the man involved in destroying her legacy. “I want to save this beautiful old adobe building from the wrecking ball,” she said.

“It seems like more than that.” He paused and cleared his throat. “I think you’re still upset with me about prom night.”

“Of course I’m not,” she lied. “That was ages ago.” And she could still remember the thrill of parking with Jess. Her body remembered, too.

His eyes narrowed. “But your attack tonight was against me, not the construction project. Don’t tell me you honestly believe I’m building a high-rise because I have sexual hang-ups?”

She felt backed into a corner and said the first thing that occurred to her. “It’s always possible, isn’t it? Not that I care anymore, but I have personal knowledge that you won’t finish what you start.”

He took a step closer. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I most certainly do.” She refused to retreat and let him see that he was intimidating her.

With the kind of sexuality Jess projected, she didn’t really believe he was compensating for anything by constructing that building. To be completely honest, it was very possible she’d unconsciously hoped that tweaking his male ego would bring exactly this result—Jess to her doorstep.

He moved even closer and his voice deepened. “Look, contrary to what you might think, contrary to what happened thirteen years ago, I don’t have a problem with sex.”

“Couldn’t prove it by me.” She could barely breathe, but what little inhaling she was able to do brought with it a heady combo of spicy aftershave and fresh soap. Her nose remembered how good he used to smell.

“What exactly do you want from me, Katie?”

She wanted him to kiss her, which was really stupid. What would that accomplish? “I want you to stop construction.”

“That’s not going to happen and you know it. You and VOR lost the fight. The building’s going up, and taunting me isn’t going to change a thing.”

“Public opinion can be a powerful force. I’m working to sway it in my direction.”

“Good luck. I plan to erect that building.”

Gazing up at him, she remembered how silky his brown hair used to feel when she’d run her fingers through it. She had to white-knuckle the chair to keep from reaching for him. “Can you hear yourself? You plan to erect that building. If that isn’t sexual symbolism, I don’t know what is.”

“It’s only a building.” Heat flashed in his eyes. “This is sex.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her. Hard. Then he let go so fast she staggered.

She vibrated from that kiss like a plucked guitar string. Unable to form words—an unusual state for her—she stared at him and struggled to breathe. They simply gazed at each other for a long moment.

“Damn it, Katie.” His voice was soft as a caress.

She matched his tone. “Damn you, Jess.”

“You used to drive me crazy.”

She gulped. “But not…crazy enough.”

He studied her in silence for several seconds. “So this is about prom night.”

She couldn’t very well deny it now, not when all she wanted was another kiss. More than a kiss. She wasn’t over him, not by a long shot.

“Katie, it wasn’t the place. And now that I think about it, neither is this.” He backed away and fumbled for the doorknob.

She leaned against the table for support. “You’re leaving?”

“Damn it, we’re in the KRZE conference room.”

“And the door has a lock.”

He hesitated, as if thinking that over. Then he shook his head. “But I’d like to see you again. I think—”

“What, so you can set me up and knock me down? Not bloody likely!”

He gazed at her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that kiss to happen.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll never let it happen again.” She folded her arms and hugged herself to stop the quivering. “I should have known nothing’s changed.”

“Of course it has. Everything’s changed.”

“Not when it comes to you and me. For some fiendish reason, you love to tease me with possibilities and then leave.”

“We were kids then! It’s different now.”

“Is it?”

He gazed at her for a long moment. “Yeah, it’s different. And I’ll find a way to prove it to you.” He turned and opened the door, then walked out and closed it softly behind him.

Shaken, Katie stared at the carvings on the heavy door without seeing them. Dear God, if Jess had been willing, she would have kissed him again. She might have done more than kiss him. Talk about stupidity squared.

This room wasn’t soundproof, and Ava was down the hall, curious as hell. She might have heard something, although probably not. The door was heavy and the walls of this old building were thick. But if Katie and Jess had gotten carried away, Ava would have known.

Katie had been ready to commit professional suicide, and only Jess’s refusal to continue had saved her. Edgecomb would cancel her show in a Tucson minute if he ever found out something like that had gone on in his conference room, especially involving the owner of Harkins Construction. And he’d be justified.

So Jess had made the right call, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a rat. He should have tried to follow through and let her be the one to stop them. Which she might not have done, but that was beside the point. She was finished with him.

He might be the guy who could start her engine with only a feather touch. He might be more gorgeous now than he had been as a teenager—his body had filled out and his voice had a deeper, sexier timbre that gave her goose bumps.

But none of that mattered because he couldn’t be counted on to need her beyond reason, the way her grandfather had needed her grandmother. Men were supposed to be victims of their hormones, not ruled by logic. Why did Jess have to be the exception?

Yep, she was through with him. And as for her comments on the air, they would only get more scathing. She’d talk Edgecomb out of worrying about the negotiations. And as for Jess, he could just deal with it.



JESS KNEW HE HAD TO TAKE bold action if he expected to square things with Katie. After that interlude in the conference room, he wanted things to be more than square. He wanted to finish—finally—what they’d started so many times before. She wasn’t going to make that easy for him, though.

Tonight’s episode told him she’d never forgiven him for refusing to have sex with her on prom night. She couldn’t know how much that refusal had cost him, was still costing him. Countless times he’d cursed himself for being so damned noble. And he’d never found a woman to equal Katie.

But he hadn’t wanted to cheapen their first real lovemaking by doing it in the back of a car. His mother had told him he’d been conceived that way. She didn’t regret having him, but she thought sex should be conducted in better surroundings. He’d never forgotten that.

Make-out sessions with Katie were okay because they’d only been fooling around, indulging in heavy petting. But when she’d asked him to take her virginity, that was serious stuff. He’d wanted it to be special, and back then he hadn’t had the resources to make it special.

On top of being broke, he’d underestimated the importance she’d place on his refusal. He hadn’t expected her to take it as a rejection, but obviously her expectations of prom night had been huge. He’d let her down.

Apparently he’d done it again tonight by kissing her and leaving. But damn it, he wasn’t about to take that kind of chance with either of their reputations. It was bad enough that he’d lost control and kissed her in the first place.

If things had progressed and word had gotten out, he might have weathered it. But the double standard was still around, and she might never have recovered her status in the community if anyone discovered she’d had a hot rendevous in the KRZE conference room.

He hadn’t meant to tick her off, but when passion of the Katie kind gripped him, he didn’t dare spend time discussing why he was going to leave. He had to get out of the situation before his control snapped and he actually did something dumb.

Katie hadn’t understood that thirteen years ago, and she hadn’t understood it tonight either. He’d have to pull out all the stops to convince her to give him another shot.

He planned to start by breaking into her apartment tomorrow night.




3


BY SIX O’CLOCK ON SATURDAY NIGHT, the temperature on the patio of Katie’s favorite Mexican restaurant hovered around seventy-five degrees—perfect for sipping frozen margaritas. In the desert she might not have colorful autumn leaves to enjoy, but she had warm October nights and lime-flavored tequila.

Ava sat at a table by the fountain. For the occasion she’d dressed in a black scoop-neck shirt, long black skirt and combat boots.

“Good call, getting this table.” Katie sat across from Ava. “This is my favorite spot, where you can hear the water splash.”

“Splashing water produces negative ions,” Ava said. “Negative ions elevate your mood.”

“I could use that.” Katie signaled a waiter. “Plus a margarita.”

Ava nodded. “I could tell you were bummed when you left last night.”

“Yeah, sorry I was so abrupt.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“It was a tough situation. I—” Katie paused as the waiter approached.

The waiter did a double take. “Aren’t you Crazy Katie?”

“Yes.” Katie was used to being recognized once in a while, but it had happened a lot today. Everybody wanted to comment on her Friday night show, which had helped distract her from thinking about Jess.

“My friends and I think that big building is stupid, too.” He winked. “We’re not the kind of guys who have to prove ourselves, if you know what I mean.”

“Glad to hear it. The more support I can round up, the better.”

“I know a lot of people are behind you,” the waiter said. “Anyway, I wanted to let you know. So what will you ladies have to drink tonight?”

“Two margaritas,” Katie said. “And Ava, it’s my treat.”

“Aw, you don’t have to do that,” Ava said. “I invited myself.”

“And you’re also putting yourself through school. I remember what it’s like to be twenty-two and broke. When you’re pulling in the big bucks you can buy me a drink, okay?”

“It’s a deal.” Ava looked very happy at the prospect of an extended friendship with Katie. After the waiter left, she leaned closer. “Do you get recognized a lot?”

“Not a lot, but it happens. Today more people than usual have stopped me to say something about the show, which is good. I need ammunition for Edgecomb.”

“Yeah, you do. And what’s the situation with your ex? Is he still a turd?”

“Yep.” Katie had figured the subject of Jess would come up, so she was prepared. “He didn’t react well to Dr. Astorbrooke’s theories, to say the least.”

“Most guys wouldn’t.”

“What about our waiter? He seemed to agree with me.”

“He’s young. He’s antiestablishment.”

“Jared was fine with it.”

Ava waved her hand. “Jared’s a mensch. You couldn’t ruffle his feathers if you hit him with a fire hose. But your guy—”

“Not my guy,” Katie said.

“A figure of speech. Anyway, you’re hitting this Harkins dude right where he lives. And he doesn’t strike me as being that easygoing.”

“He’s pretty intense.” And girl, can he kiss.

“I know looks aren’t everything, but he’s kind of cute in a Jude Law sort of way.”

“I suppose.” Jess was more than cute. He had a heartthrob quality that made her go all gooey inside. She’d had that reaction the minute she’d caught a glimpse of him in her senior English class and she’d been battling that same reaction ever since he’d kissed her nineteen hours and forty-six minutes ago. Not that she was counting.

Mooning about Jess had affected almost half of her weekend, but she was determined it wouldn’t affect the second half. Having drinks with Cheryl and Ava was a good start. And speaking of Cheryl, she arrived at that moment, all smiles and curly red hair.

“Hey, guys!” Cheryl snagged a chair and settled her curvy little body into it. “Sorry I’m late. I played tennis this afternoon with this yummy-licious new guy from the law firm and I lost track of the time.” She barreled on without taking a breath. “I would have called but my cell’s acting weird. I need to trade it in for a new one, but I hate going through that, you know? New phone, new options, more buttons to figure out. So, I’m thinkin’—” She paused and looked at Katie. “What’s so funny?”

“You.” Katie was so glad she’d agreed to spend happy hour with Cheryl. Nobody could stay depressed with Cheryl around. “You have more energy than a four-month-old Chihuahua. By the way, this is Ava, the person you always get when you call the station.”

“Hi, Ava! It’s good to meet you at last! As for the Chihuahua thing, please don’t tell me I look like one.” Cheryl fluffed her short hair. “A Lhasa Apso’s okay. You can compare me to a Lhasa Apso any old day, but a Chihuahua looks so sort of naked, you know? Which is cute in its own way, but I like to think that I have more—oh, here come your drinks.” She batted her eyelashes at the waiter. “I’ll have one exactly like that, please. Are you a student at the U of A? I ask because lots of the students wait tables here.”

As Cheryl turned to launch into an animated discussion with the waiter, Ava leaned across the table toward Katie. “Is this normal?”

“Completely normal.”

“I was afraid she was on something.”

“No, she’s just being Cheryl. Her courtroom rep is that she wins cases by talking the jury to death.”

Cheryl swung back to them. “You’re explaining me to Ava, aren’t you? Ava, you might as well get used to my motormouth. I’ve been this way ever since I was fourteen months old and I’m not likely to change now. Katie and I recognized each other as soul mates in first grade and we’ve been involved in a conversational marathon ever since.”

“Oh, you won that race a long time ago,” Katie said.

“Hey, you hold your own, DJ girl. The point is, Ava, that Katie’s used to me, but you’re not. If you have something you need to say, just holler shut up, Cheryl and I’ll do my best.”

Katie laughed. “I just want to know if you passed up drinks and dinner with the yummy-licious lawyer so you could meet us for happy hour.”

“I did, but that’s a good thing. I liked being able to tell him I had other plans. It’s good to have them thinking you have a full social schedule, you know? But in any case, I wouldn’t have canceled this to go out with him, because I think that’s just wrong. Men come and go but girlfriends are forever. Am I right?”

Both Katie and Ava nodded.

“Of course I’m right.” She didn’t break stride as her margarita arrived. “Listen, Katie, that show last night was dynamite. Thrusting Skyward. I loved it. What a zinger. I’m going to start field-testing the guys I date to find out how they feel about high-rise buildings. What a great litmus test. I hope that Je—I mean someone from Harkins Construction caught that program. I mean, the whole crew at that job site should be required to listen to that program. They think they’re so macho with their hard hats and their tool belts, but every last man-Jack of them needs to reevaluate their—”

“Cheryl, it’s okay.” Katie didn’t want Cheryl working herself into a lather trying to cover up her little slip. “Ava knows about Jess. In fact, he came to the station after the program last night.”

Cheryl stared at her. “He did? What did he say? What did you say? What did he look like? Is he still hot? Is he married? Was he—”

“Cheryl, shut up.” Katie grinned at her friend.

“Right. I’ll drink my margarita. Start talking. Tell me everything.”

Katie wasn’t about to do that, but she sketched in the outline of the visit without supplying the detail about the kiss. She said they’d agreed to disagree and parted ways. His final vow that things were different and he’d prove it to her didn’t make the edited version she gave Cheryl and Ava.

Cheryl obviously knew she was holding back. Katie could see it in the tiny smile that Cheryl hid behind the rim of her margarita glass. And when Ava left at seven because she’d promised to catch a movie with her usual crowd, Cheryl dropped all pretense of believing Katie’s story.

“First we’re going to order dinner and another margarita,” she said. “And then you’re going to tell me what really happened.”

“I told you what happened!”

“Yeah, right. First we order, then you spill.” Cheryl motioned the waiter over and they each chose a taco salad to go with the second margarita.

“Okay, you can begin anytime,” Cheryl said after the waiter left. For once she didn’t elaborate on that thought or spin off onto a million other somewhat related topics. Instead she sat looking at Katie with that same tiny smile, waiting.

They’d been friends for a long time, and Katie knew that Cheryl would get the truth eventually. She always did. Most of the time she talked a blue streak, which was her natural state, but once in a while, like now, she could create a silence so welcoming, so in need of being filled, that a person felt obliged to confess all. That tactic had also served Cheryl well in the courtroom.

“I’m…” Katie drained her margarita glass and set it down on the glass table with a solid click. Between Cheryl’s open invitation to tell all and the tequila fogging her brain, Katie couldn’t hold her tongue. “I’m still into him, Cher.”

“I know.”

Katie sighed. “I figured you would. So when he showed up, I was all quivery, like I used to get in high school. I didn’t want Ava to hear what we said, so I brought him into the conference room and closed the door.” The memory of that got her hot all over again.

“Who made the first move?”

“He did. He…kissed me.” She tried to breathe normally, but telling Cheryl made her relive the moment when his lips had crushed hers, and all the powerful emotions created by that contact came rushing back.

“I take it you didn’t run screaming out of the room. No, you don’t have to tell me how you responded. I can see it in your eyes.”

Katie groaned and covered her face with both hands. “I’m sure he could see it, too.” She lifted her head and looked at Cheryl. “But he did the same damned thing as prom night! Got me going and then walked out the door, saying it wasn’t the place!”

“Well, it wasn’t! You could get fired for a stunt like that!”

“I know, but I wish I’d been the one to call a halt instead of him. I hate that I want him more. It’s humiliating.”

Cheryl fingered the stem of her margarita goblet. “If you should decide to give it another try, I’ll bet you could turn the tables on him. You’re not some shy little virgin now, are you? You have some experience and you—”

“You make it sound like I know all about sex. I don’t. I do research for the show, but that doesn’t mean I have a ton of practical knowledge. It’s not like I’ve tried all those Kama Sutra tips, you know.”

“I said some, not a ton. We’ve both had some, and I like to think we have a few tricks up our sleeve that can turn the average man into a groveling fool willing to do anything to keep us happy. You need to take the offensive with Jess if you want to regain some control. When are you going to see him again?”

“I’m not!” Katie thought the conversation was getting way out of hand. “He’s too hot to handle, Cher. I lose my head when I’m with him. And besides, he’s putting up this hideous building next to the station. How can I get involved under those circumstances? I’m putting him completely out of my mind.”

“If you say so.” Cheryl held Katie’s gaze. “But I wonder how you’re going to do that. With that building going up, he’ll be in your face and on your mind for the next few months. You haven’t gotten over him in thirteen years, so what makes you think you can get over him now?”

“I just will, that’s all.”

“I have a suggestion, but it’s only a suggestion, mind you. Don’t act on it unless it makes sense. But it seems to me that a better course of action would be to make some moves on this guy—on your terms. Get into bad-girl mode and tease him until you have him eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“I don’t want to—”

“For one thing, it would make you feel a whole lot better about past events,” Cheryl said, pushing on, “and for another, if you end up having to tolerate that building next door, at least you’ll have some compensation for the pain. I think it sounds like a fun project, personally. Jess is easy on the eye, and if you could pin him down, he might be one hell of a lover. That intensity of his tells me that he could give a woman—”

“Shut up, Cheryl.” Katie hadn’t interrupted because she had something to say. She had nothing to say. But the longer Cheryl talked, the more Katie wondered if she could pull off such an outrageous maneuver. And that was dangerous thinking.



JESS GOT KATIE’S ADDRESS from her mother, who was thrilled to hear from him and apologetic about the things her daughter was saying about his building. Jess told her not to worry about it, that he and Katie were in the process of working things out. Then he proceeded to Katie’s apartment near the university.

Jess didn’t let too many people know he could pick a lock in under five seconds. He’d learned that trick from his father, one of the few things his dad had taught him during his rare trips back to Globe. By the time Jess had hit puberty and wised up about his dad, Mel Harkins had stopped coming to see him.

That was just as well. Jess’s mom had never admitted that her ex-husband was a thief, but Jess had figured it out by himself when she wouldn’t let him keep the portable DVD player his dad had brought him. His mom had left that perfectly good piece of equipment at a bus stop because she’d said keeping it might get them in trouble.

Since his mom didn’t talk about his dad, Jess didn’t either. If anyone asked, Jess said his parents were divorced and his dad wasn’t around anymore. But Jess had vowed to be the exact opposite of his father—steady and true. Picking the lock on Katie’s apartment door made him feel uneasy, but he couldn’t figure out any other way to guarantee he’d have her attention.



AS KATIE UNLOCKED HER apartment door, she heard music and wondered if she’d left her CD player on. Then she stepped inside and her adrenaline level spiked. At least a dozen thick tapers threw flickering light over her living room.

And there, lounging on her sofa, was Jess. She’d been thinking about him so much that she wondered if she’d conjured him up.

“Hi,” he said softly.

That was the voice of a real man, no matter how much he looked like a fantasy. Jess Harkins, the guy who revved her up like no other, was actually sitting in her living room. Heart pounding, she backed up against the door. “How did you get in here?”

“Your mom gave me the address, and—”

“A key? If my mother gave you a key to my apartment, she and I need to have a serious discussion. I can imagine her telling you where I lived. I realize that she always liked you, but giving you a key goes way beyond—”

“She didn’t give me a key. I wouldn’t have asked for something like that, and I’m sure she wouldn’t have given me one either. That would have been way too weird.”

“And this isn’t? You somehow appearing in my apartment without a key?”

“My, uh, dad taught me how to pick locks when I was a little kid.”

“Cute.” She never would have pictured Jess doing something like that. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she noticed a bottle of red wine and two crystal goblets sitting on her coffee table. “Did he also tell you that breaking and entering was illegal?”

“No, but I figured that out. I’m reasonably sure my dad was a thief. Probably still is.”

That tidbit knocked her back some. In high school Jess had claimed his dad was a loner and a drifter, but he’d never offered this particular factoid. She had a feeling he didn’t mention it very often, if at all. It wasn’t something to boast about.

But he’d told her now, as if finally willing to trust her with the news. She fought the warmth of his subtle flattery. She didn’t want to fall in with his plan—and there was obviously a plan. Candlelight and wine sent a definite message, and she was vulnerable to that message, too vulnerable for her own good. “I should call the cops.”

“Don’t.”

“I don’t know why I shouldn’t. You have no right to break into my apartment and light a bunch of candles.”

“That’s true.”

“Besides that, you have solid brass ones, buddy.” And solid muscles to go with them. Even in the soft light from the candles she could tell how perfectly he filled out his knit polo. His biceps stretched the ribbed cuffs of his shirtsleeves in a most satisfactory way. “For all you know, I could have brought a date back here tonight.”

“I didn’t think that was likely.”

“What, you can’t imagine me with a date?” In truth, she didn’t go out much. Lately it had seemed so pointless. She’d begun to wonder if her sexual drive was diminishing now that she could see thirty in the rearview mirror, but Jess had dynamited that particular theory last night.

“I’m sure you have dates, but I—”

“Damn straight. I have so many guys hanging around I was forced to order date-tracker software last week so I can keep them all straight. I could have been out with one of a number of men tonight, and wouldn’t that have been awkward—to come back home with someone and find you sitting here with all your candles lit, so to speak.”

A smile touched his mouth. “I suppose candles are a phallic symbol, too.”

“Those certainly are. Just look at them. They’re penis-size. They’re even flesh-colored!” And the subliminal message had been working on her ever since she’d laid eyes on them. She’d seen those fat tapers in a mall speciality store. They’d looked erotic at the time, and now, thrown into this Jess mess, they seemed blatantly sexual.

“The minute I saw them I knew you’d think that. That’s why I bought them.”

It occurred to her that he’d had to buy more than the candles, which wouldn’t fit in ordinary holders. He’d been forced to add three wrought-iron candelabra to hold the thick tapers. Then there was the wine. She couldn’t tell for sure but the label looked pricey. And those weren’t her goblets either.

“You went to a lot of trouble and expense,” she said.

He didn’t respond. Instead he simply gazed at her with those brown eyes that had the power to melt the steel barriers she was frantically trying to build around her heart.

She took a deep breath. Cheryl had advised her to take control of the sexual dynamics, to get into bad-girl mode, but Cheryl had no idea how potent Jess could be. Katie was afraid that if she let herself surrender to this campaign even slightly, she’d be swallowed by a wave of sensuality that would rob her of all power.

No, she couldn’t allow herself to be tempted by this man. “I’m afraid all that trouble was for nothing, though. I’ll have to ask you to leave, Jess.”

He stood, and for a minute she thought he might actually walk out the door. She would be relieved if he did that. Of course she would. As she’d told Cheryl, he was too hot to handle. She’d get burned.

But instead of leaving, he came around the coffee table until he was only about three feet away. Candlelight played over the strong planes of his face, and his powerful chest heaved. The years had been good to Jess, maybe because he had a job that required him to be active. His body was fit and tanned.

Thirteen years ago she’d only imagined what sex would be like with him. Now she had more experience to feed her active imagination. It didn’t take much effort to picture getting naked with Jess. She grew moist and pliant as she thought about it. The trick was to stop thinking about it. Immediately.

Yet that was easier said than done. She’d never rejected a man as gorgeous as this. She didn’t want to do it now, but it was for her own good. She had to be strong. “I mean it,” she said. “I don’t want to play whatever game you’re playing.”

He gave her another long look. When he spoke, his voice had a husky quality that spoke volumes about his state of mind. “Are you going to make me beg?”

As his words sank in, hot desire slid through her veins. Maybe she’d miscalculated. Maybe her own needs had blinded her to the force of his sex drive and they were more alike in their desires than she’d thought. It was a fascinating theory.

Did she dare test it? Could Cheryl be right, after all, that Katie had the ability to make him grovel? Now that would be sweet.

In the end, the chance to put him at her mercy was too irresistible to pass up. “Yes.” Her heart beat wildly at the prospect. “I do believe I’m going to make you beg.”




4


JESS SWALLOWED A SMILE of triumph, not wanting to push his luck. He didn’t care how or why Katie was letting him stay, just so he got to. Just so he finally put an end to thirteen years of longing and frustration. The thought of making love to her nearly had him moaning out loud, but he swallowed that, too.

“Shall we have some of that wine you brought?” she asked.

“Great idea.” He walked back to the coffee table and picked up the bottle.

Earlier he’d uncorked it and closed it again with a silver stopper that he planned to give her along with the crystal goblets. Maybe it was ostentatious, but he needed her to realize he was no longer that poor kid who’d worked long hours at Home Depot after school to help his mom financially and buy gas and tires for his old Ford.

“While you’re pouring the wine, I’ll change into something more comfortable.”

He almost dropped the bottle. He’d never dreamed she’d be this cooperative. “Uh, sure. That would be terrific.” Wow. This was turning out to be the best move he’d ever made. Breaking and entering had its advantages, after all.

After she left, he poured wine in both goblets and sat on her sofa wondering what more comfortable meant to her. Ads for Victoria’s Secret swam through his fevered brain and he shoved his hand into his pocket to make sure the condoms were still in there.

If he didn’t want to get an erection while he was waiting for her, he’d better concentrate on something neutral, like furniture. Earlier he’d prowled around her apartment and discovered a Southwestern theme throughout, with old pots and Native artifacts scattered everywhere.

Her coffee table and end tables were trimmed with saguaro cactus ribs, and she’d hung several small Navajo rugs on the walls. The turquoise sofa he was sitting on was the single spot of color in a room dominated by earth tones.

He wasn’t particularly surprised. Her parents’ house looked like this, and she’d told him how much she liked being immersed in Southwestern culture. He could relate. Now that he was able to afford the trappings, so did he.

But he still couldn’t understand why she’d fought so hard to keep KRZE’s adobe house from falling to the wrecking ball. Personally he couldn’t see the point. By the time KRZE had finished modifying the place for its purposes, the place had lost whatever historic value it once might have had.

There were plenty of other structures like it, even a few with actual historic significance. He could think of several that would be ideal for KRZE’s new location and weren’t in danger of being bulldozed any time soon.

Maybe in the course of getting close to her—very close—he’d learn what made her such a passionate opponent of his project. It wasn’t the main motivation for his decision to break into her apartment. His hormones were mostly in charge on that one. But as a side benefit, it wasn’t bad.

And here came Katie wearing something filmy and black. He was such a sucker for black, especially on a blonde like Katie. The outfit consisted of billowy harem pants that rode low on her hips and gave him a view of a black thong underneath, plus a low-cut black bra and a wispy jacket that might as well not have been there for all it covered up.

He began to sweat. As much as he wanted her, sitting here casually sipping wine would be torture. But then, maybe that was the idea. She had said she’d make him beg. He was ready to start with the begging ASAP.

Choosing a spot on the opposite end of the sofa, she settled into the plump turquoise cushions.

He picked up both wine goblets and reached over to hand her one. “Here’s to renewing old acquaintances.”

She raised her glass in his direction. “To settling old scores.”

He blinked. Maybe she wasn’t going to be as cooperative as he thought. “You’re still upset about that prom-night thing, aren’t you?”

She eyed him over the rim of her wineglass as she drank. Then she lowered her goblet. “I chose you to be my first. I was curious and excited and eager…but you didn’t wanna. How do you suppose that made me feel?”

“Not good, but I had my reasons. I didn’t—”

“Reasons you weren’t able to share with a heartbroken girl, unfortunately. You’ll be happy to know I found another candidate, though.”

Now there was an unwelcome conversational thread. “I’d rather not hear about it, if you don’t mind.” He moved a little closer to her. Talking about her other lovers wouldn’t help get this seduction under way.

“I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it.” She took another swallow of her wine. “But I think I need to talk about it.”

“Why?”

“You’re the only person in the world I ever thought of telling, and here you are, sitting in my living room. Of course, you don’t have to stay and listen. You could always leave.” She lifted her eyebrows.

“I’m not leaving.” If she wanted him to suffer a little, he’d suffer. The payoff would be more than worth it.

“It was during my freshman year at the U of A. He was a jock, a basically nice guy but sort of clumsy. Still, he got the job done, and presto, I was officially a nonvirgin. You see, I wanted sexual knowledge.” She paused. “I would rather have gained that knowledge with you,” she added softly.

“Damn it, Katie, I know that! But I didn’t want it to happen in the back of a car. You deserved more.”

“So what do you think of an upstairs bedroom in a frat house with a party going on down below?”

Jess closed his eyes as if that would block out the image of Katie with some idiot college kid who didn’t know what a treasure he had. Closing his eyes only seemed to make the picture more vivid, so he opened them again. “Obviously I screwed up and I’m sorry. I should have found a way to pay for a nice hotel.”

“Were you a virgin, too?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I was. Clueless and scared I wouldn’t make it good for you.”

She cradled her goblet in both hands. “I’m assuming you’re not a virgin anymore.”

“No.” He thought of his first time, which hadn’t been particularly memorable either. Since then, he’d taken several women to bed and each time he’d tried to convince himself he was falling in love. It had never happened.

“I’m glad you’re not a virgin. I wouldn’t want to shock you.”

He grew uneasy. After all, she did have that radio talk show. Last night she’d seemed like the woman he remembered, soft and eager for his kiss. But tonight she’d morphed into someone more experienced and sure of herself. She’d become Billboard Katie.

For all he knew, in the past thirteen years she’d turned into a wild thing who’d had more lovers than he’d had. Once upon a time they’d been equally green, equally ignorant of the nuances. Since then, she might have outstripped him.

“Changed your mind, Jess?” Her blue eyes issued a challenge.

He looked at her in that filmy black number and knew he’d never be able to live with himself if he walked away from this chance. He’d be a damned coward if he allowed himself to be intimidated and left now. “No, I haven’t changed my mind.”

“I’m glad.” She finished her wine and held out her glass for more. “Because I’m looking forward to this.”

His hand was unsteady, but he managed to pour her wine without spilling any on her turquoise sofa. “So am I.” He resisted the urge to top off his own glass. He could use the Dutch courage, but more wine might dull his senses. Dulled senses wouldn’t serve him well in the hours ahead. He had to stay sharp.

“So how did you happen to hear my show last night?”

He wasn’t about to confess that he listened to her show almost every night. “I was out. I had the car radio on.”

“Driving around by yourself?”

“Uh, no. I had a date.”

She put down her wine. “Please tell me you didn’t have a date waiting out in the car when you came to the station. If you did, then I don’t know you at all, and this night is so over.”

“I didn’t have a date in the car. I drove her home before I came down to KRZE.”

“Is she…someone special?”

“No.” He took comfort in the way she’d asked that. She didn’t want him to have a steady girlfriend any more than he wanted her to have a steady boyfriend. Once they got past the stage where she felt the need to hiss at him every so often, they would be fine. Once he could hold her in his arms, they would be even better.

“That’s a relief,” she said. “I don’t want to poach on another woman’s territory.”

“I wouldn’t want to poach on another guy’s territory either.” He wanted confirmation of what he suspected—that she wasn’t serious about anyone.

“Oh, don’t worry. You won’t be poaching.”

He could take that two ways. Either he had clear sailing…or she’d keep him moored at the dock. He’d go with the clear-sailing image. “Okay. Good.” He edged closer to her. “You know what? You’re too far away.”

“Hold your position, Harkins.”

He frowned. “What?”

“Stay where you are. It’s been thirteen years, and I want us to have a chance to get to know each other before we start with the physical stuff.”

That totally bewildered him. “Like what? You want to go out to dinner first?”

“I’ve had dinner, thanks. I think we should sit and talk.”

“Well, okay, but at the station last night you seemed ready to—”

“Old tapes playing in my head is all. I’m conditioned from our high school make-out sessions to go up in flames the minute you kiss me, so I reacted that way last night, like Pavlov’s dogs. But we’re starting fresh, like you said. We never did much talking back then.”

He remembered how they’d steamed up the windows with heavy breathing, not conversation. “No, we didn’t.” And he wished she’d save herself some work and continue with that earlier conditioning instead of trying to reprogram herself. Going up in flames when he kissed her sounded A-okay to him.

“So let’s talk,” she said.

“About what?”

“I’m curious to find out how much you know about sex.”

He gulped. “I’m not sure what you mean by that. Besides, I’m more a man of action than words.” Sweat began to trickle down his spine. He might be in way over his head with the new version of Katie Peterson. “If you’re asking me to list techniques, I’d rather show you than try to describe them.”

“Maybe it would help if I asked a few questions. For example, what’s your favorite way to make a woman come?”

His chest tightened. He had a feeling she was going somewhere with this, but he couldn’t figure out where, and that put him at a big disadvantage. He struggled to breathe normally. “Depends on the woman,” he said.

She nodded. “Good answer. You don’t have a one-size-fits-all approach to female orgasms. I like that.”

“I hope you would…like that.” Maybe she was putting him through some kind of test.

“Mmm.” She ran her tongue over her lower lip. “I do like to come. Sadly a girl can’t always count on a man to take the time she needs, though.”

“I would.” He was getting hard, which might be what she’d had in mind when she’d suggested this conversation. “You’ll have all the time you want. We can take it slow or we can take it fast. Whatever feels good.” And he’d like to get started. Now.

“Are you in favor of oral sex?”

“Yes.” He was in favor of it immediately. If she’d let him settle his head between her thighs in the next five minutes, he’d put an end to this conversation and replace it with her satisfied moaning. “I have an idea. Let’s move the discussion to your bedroom.”

“Not yet. First I need to convince myself that I’m going to have a climax with you.”

“Trust me, you will. As many as you can stand. I’ll be happy to take care of that.” He didn’t know if she could achieve multiple orgasms, but he’d give it his all. And his all was currently feeling very restricted inside his briefs. He had on far too many clothes. So did Katie.

“I like a sure thing.” She put her empty wineglass on the coffee table.

His pulse rate jumped another notch. Maybe she was ready to head in the direction he wanted at last. He set his glass on the table, too. “I’ll make you come or die trying.”

“That sounds a little extreme.” She turned and reached for one of the candles stuck into the candelabra behind her. “I wouldn’t want to put that much pressure on you.”

“I’d welcome the pressure.” He glanced at her holding the lighted candle. “If you want candlelight in the bedroom, you might want to bring the whole thing. Those are a specialty size. They won’t fit just anywhere.”

“I know.” She blew gently on the wick. The flame fanned out sideways and went out. “I know exactly where it would fit.”

A possibility skittered through his brain. But she wouldn’t really do that. Would she?

“These candles really do have an interesting shape.” She turned the candle over and examined the blunt end.

Jess stared at her. She seemed to be almost caressing the thing, as if—no, surely not.

Then, looking straight at him, she slid the blunt end of the candle into her mouth.

His entire groin ached as she sucked on the candle. “Okay, I deserve that. I bought them.” His voice cracked. “And in case you can’t tell, you’re getting to me.”

She took the candle, shiny and wet, out of her mouth. “That was for my benefit, not yours.”

“I don’t—” He caught his breath as she leaned back against the cushions and opened her thighs. He’d missed a significant detail of the harem pants. They weren’t stitched at the crotch.

Now he understood her diabolical plan, one that was sure to drive him out of his mind. And he’d been the genius who’d introduced candles into the equation. He had no one to blame but himself. He swallowed. “Katie, please…”

“Relax, Jess. Relax and enjoy the show.”



TWO GLASSES OF WINE HELPED, but Katie still couldn’t believe she was doing this. Some alter ego seemed to be whispering in her ear, urging her to be a very bad girl, bad enough to have Jess completely in her power, as Cheryl had suggested. From his expression, she was almost there.

In the process, she was arousing herself beyond belief. She’d never tried anything this daring with a man. “I’m not the little virgin you remember, Jess.”

“No.” His voice was a hoarse croak, and he clenched the sofa with both hands. “So I’m supposed to just…sit here?”

“That’s the idea. Unless you want to leave.”

Slowly he shook his head.

“Then let’s get this party started.” Her black thong was soaked as she pulled it aside. She’d begun planning this while she was changing clothes. Her harem outfit, bought in a moment of craziness more than a year ago, had never been on her body until now. Yet it was perfect for what she had in mind.

Using one of the candles he’d brought seemed like the perfect touch. He’d wanted her to think of them as sexual symbols, so could she be blamed for imagining the possibilities?

“Katie…I wish you’d let me…”

“I’m letting you watch.” She barely recognized her own voice. It had turned sultry, the kind of voice that belonged to a woman who was teasing herself with the blunt end of a penis-size candle.

He groaned.

“Consider this a tutorial.” Her breathing quickened. “Pay attention.” She held his gaze as she pushed the smooth wax taper deeper. “You might learn something.” She was learning that being a bad girl was more exciting than she’d ever dreamed. One slide of the candle and she was ready to come.

“All right.” His tone was strained. “Now I’m begging.”

Her words came out in a breathy rush. “For what?” She stroked slowly with the candle, wanting to prolong the moment when she had Jess completely enslaved.

“Don’t make yourself come like that.” His dark eyes glowed with an unholy fire. “Let me touch you…please.” He made a move toward her.

“No. Stay there.”

“I want to satisfy you, damn it!”

Her thighs started to quiver. “But this is guaranteed satisfaction.”

“So am I!”

“I don’t know that.” She jiggled the candle faster.

His breath grew tortured. “I do! Katie…God…Katie.”

“I’m going to come, Jess.” She moaned as the spasms started. “And it’s good…so very…good….” Clutching the candle in both hands, she shuddered and slumped back against the sofa cushions.

Through half-closed eyes she gazed at him. He was a wreck. Her tender, caring side felt sorry for him and wanted to invite him back to her bedroom for the fun and games he’d hoped would happen.

But she needed to remember that he’d broken into her apartment expecting to seduce her. The wine and candlelight had been part of a carefully constructed plan. With the old Katie, it would have worked beautifully.

Instead she wanted to change the dynamics, and inviting him to her bedroom this soon would destroy all the progress she’d achieved so far. A bad girl wouldn’t make things that easy for him. A bad girl would expect him to wait a little longer.

She took a calming breath and laid the candle on the coffee table.

Jess glanced at it before refocusing his gaze on her. “Now what?” he asked quietly.

“We make a date for tomorrow night.”

Disbelief flashed in his eyes. “You’re sending me home?”

“It’s been a lot of years, Jess. I think we need time to get reacquainted, don’t you?”

“Like this? With me watching you masturbate? What kind of ridiculous idea is—”

“You don’t have to come back tomorrow night if you’d rather not.”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “Maybe I won’t.”

“Suit yourself. But if you decide to, make it about six. I’ll have some snacks for us. Maybe something…interesting.”

“I’d expect cucumbers and bananas, at this rate.” His gaze burned with frustration.

“I’m sure I can think of something more creative than that.”

“No doubt you can. But you’d better know now that I plan to take part in whatever you dream up. Sex isn’t a spectator sport, you know.”

“You don’t think so?” Her research for the talk show was really coming in handy. “Don’t you ever use mirrors?”

“I—no.”

“You should try it sometime. Mirrors give a whole new dimension to the action.” She didn’t know that from firsthand experience, but she had no trouble imagining it.

He studied her, his jaw tight. “I don’t know what to make of you, Katie. I thought we could just have sex.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I can see that.”

Maybe now was the time to dangle a carrot in front of Jess’s nose. “In any case, if you decide to show up tomorrow night, I’ll make you a promise.”

“What’s that?” He looked wary.

She smiled. “You won’t be just a spectator.”




5


JESS DIDN’T GIVE KATIE a firm answer as to whether he’d show up at her apartment on Sunday night, but he was certainly firm in one specific area. He drove home with an erection that refused to wilt. The image of Katie masturbating with the candle followed him the whole way back to his town house, which explained his continuing problem.

Once he was in the privacy of his own shower, he took care of that immediate situation, but he still wanted Katie. He would go back tomorrow night. No matter how much he’d like to stay away and salvage his pride, he wouldn’t be able to do it. She had him hooked.

Besides, tomorrow night would be different. She’d said so, and even if her plans didn’t include full participation from him, he’d make that happen. He wasn’t going through another session where he only watched while she brought herself off.

But even as he ranted against her treatment, honesty made him admit that he’d never been so aroused in his life. She’d raised the bar on sexual excitement with that trick. And when he finally made it to the major attraction with her, the rewards would be greater because he’d been forced to wait and required to suffer extreme frustration.

So, yeah, maybe her technique wasn’t all bad. Once was enough, though. She’d proved her point and he’d gone along for the sake of future benefits. He expected those benefits tomorrow night. Either they’d indulge in the whole enchilada or he was outta there.



KATIE WOKE UP AT DAWN the next morning feeling wired even though she hadn’t slept all that well. Wearing her faded KRZE sleep shirt, she wandered into the living room to see if she’d dreamed Jess had been here. But the candelabra with the penis-size candles told her that he’d been there, all right, and she’d acted like a very bad girl.

Thank God she was scheduled to meet Cheryl at Sabino Canyon this morning for a run. She needed to work off some of her excess energy. After changing into shorts and a sports bra, she grabbed a water bottle, her cell phone and a visor before heading out of the apartment. Now that vehicular traffic had been banned from the canyon, the road into it made a perfect walking and jogging trail.

Cheryl was late, as usual, but Katie didn’t mind. Strolling the parking lot at the entrance to the canyon, she listened to the birds and watched the sunlight move down the granite cliffs. She loved Cheryl, but her constant chatter tended to drown out the beauty of any natural surroundings.

“Here I am!” Cheryl’s cheery greeting sailed across the parking lot like a kite in the breeze.

“Let’s go.” Katie set off at a jog. She still wasn’t sure how much she wanted to say about last night, so she let Cheryl talk.

That was never a problem for Cheryl. She’d built up her lung power over the years and could carry on a conversation even when running. “I set my alarm,” she said, “but it’s a new Zen kind with a chime instead of an annoying ring, and it turns out that the cute little chime doesn’t do squat to wake me up. I sleep like the dead, you know.”

“I know.” They’d roomed together in college. Some mornings Katie had resorted to a glass of water in the face to get Cheryl out of bed.

“I love to sleep. Do you know how important those REMs are to your overall health? People in this country are sleep-deprived, I tell you. Why, the SATs would probably go up amazingly if high school kids could only get enough sleep.”

“Probably.” Katie jogged up the trail and listened to Cheryl’s dissertation on sleep, which morphed into a diatribe about lack of productivity in general before moving on to the values of massage, which continued with a list of the best places in town to get one.

Then unexpectedly Cheryl threw in a question. “Any word from Jess?”

Katie had been lulled into complacency by Cheryl’s monologue and stumbled with her answer. “Uh, yes. He…when I got back last night, he…was in my apartment.”

“What?” Cheryl stopped in the middle of the road. “What do you mean, in your apartment? Did you leave a window open?”

“No, he sort of…picked the lock.”

Cheryl stared at her. “Jess? Our Jess?”

Katie explained about Jess’s father while Cheryl stood there, uncharacteristically speechless. Then Katie added the info about the candles and the wine. After that she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell, so she suggested they continue on up the trail.

Cheryl went along with that, but she kept glancing over at Katie and shaking her head. “I still can’t get my mind around Jess picking your lock. That’s bizarre.”

“I guess he figured if he knocked on the door like a normal person, I wouldn’t let him in.”

“Obviously! And he had seduction on the brain. So did he succeed?”

“Not exactly.” Katie felt flushed, and it wasn’t only because of the run. “I…teased him a little, pretended I would go along with him, but then…I didn’t.”

“Good for you! That’s excellent. He had some nerve coming over there, breaking in and then expecting you to fall into bed with him. I mean, after his past history, he can’t expect you to welcome him with open arms. I don’t care if he floats your boat or not, you have to be careful with a guy like that. So now what?”




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