The Next Always

“Great. Let’s get the catalog and order sheet so we—Stop,” she demanded as both women grinned at her.

“I can’t help it.” Laurie bounced in her chair. “You can’t expect me to walk into you and Beckett Montgomery in a major lip-lock and not react.”

“I wished I’d answered the phone, then I’d have come looking for you,” Cassie complained. “Damn customers. I knew there was sparkage, and everybody knows you were going out last week before the kids got sick.”

“Booted right on his shoes.”

Clare winced. “And everybody knows that, too?”

“I ran into Mrs. Ridenour in the park on Sunday and asked how the date went. She told me. Sucks for everybody. Anyway, we can’t miss how he comes in here pretty much every day—nothing new there—but lately the two of you have been flirty.”

“Flirty?”

“Discreetly flirty. Or so I thought until I find you sneaking off to the back room to fool around.”

“We weren’t fooling around. It was . . . It was just a kiss.”

“Smoking-hot kiss.” Laurie waved her hand in front of her face. “So, is it serious or just a little thing?”

“Laurie, we haven’t even officially gone out yet.”

“If a guy kissed me like that, I wouldn’t go out either. We’d stay home. But then, you’ve got the kids so—And I’m being really nosy. I’ll zip it.” She mimed zipping her lips. “I just liked seeing the two of you together. Plus, smoking.”

“And on that note, I’m getting a soda.”

She didn’t snicker until she was out of range. She imagined her rep had just taken a huge leap.

And Laurie was right. It had been a smoking-hot kiss.

She’d like more of the same. Soon.

Chapter Eleven

Take two, Beckett thought as he banged the knocker on Clare’s door. This time he carried a cheerful bouquet of white daisies. No point in jinxing things by bringing her the same flowers as last week.

It struck him as a little weird, not just the deja vu, but especially the intense anticipation for the evening because of the postponement.

Just dinner, he reminded himself. He had to stop making such a big deal out of it in his head, or he’d screw up. He’d played it all over in his mind so often you’d think they were winging off to Paris to dine at . . . wherever people dined in Paris.

He’d have to ask her if she’d been there. She’d done so much more traveling than he had. Maybe she spoke French. Hadn’t she taken French in high school? He seemed to remember—

Good God, cut it out, he ordered himself.

He didn’t know whether to cheer or run when she opened the door.

She hadn’t wanted to jinx it either, he decided. She wore a different dress, this one with pink and white swirls topped with a thin pink sweater that stopped at her elbows. And made him think about kissing that spot again.

Should he have brought the pink roses? Was this a signal?

“I’m going to get spoiled.” She reached for the flowers. “I’ll start expecting flowers every Friday night.”

“Thought I’d mix it up.”

“Good plan, and thanks. Come on in. I’ll put them in water before we go.” As he did, she eyed the little shopping bag in his hand. “More?”

“Not for you.” As if to keep it out of reach, he shifted it to his other hand. “You’ve had enough. It’s a bribe so nobody pukes on me. A game for the PlayStation. I got a pretty good look at what they’ve got when I hung out with them, and I didn’t see this one. Where are they? Did you lock them in a closet?”

“No, but my parents may have by now. They’re having a sleepover at Marmie’s and Granddad’s.”

“Oh.” His mind instantly landed on all the things they could do to each other, alone in the house.

Slow down, buddy, that’s not what this is about. Slow and steady, a step at a time. He followed her into the kitchen, watched as she dealt with the flowers.

“Quiet in here,” he commented.

“I know. I can never decide if it’s spooky or bliss when they have a sleepover. I guess it’s spooky bliss.”

“You’re not afraid to stay in the house alone, are you?” He could offer to stay over, sleep in the kids’ room.

Or somewhere.

“Not as long as I don’t cave and read a horror novel. It’s a weakness, and then I sleep with the light on. I’ve never figured out how leaving the light on saves you from the vampires or ghosts or demons. There.” She stepped back to examine the flowers. “They’re so pretty. Should we go?”

“Yeah, I guess we’d better.” So he’d stop thinking of her bed upstairs, no kids in the house.

“That’s not your truck,” she said when they walked outside.

“No. Mom refused to let me take you out, at least this time, in a pickup, so she handed me the keys. Felt like high school.”

“When’s your curfew?”

“I know all the ways to sneak into the house.”

She pondered that while he slid behind the wheel. “Did you really? Sneak into the house as a kid?”

“Sure. I didn’t always get away with it, none of us did, but you had to try.” He glanced at her as he drove. “No?”

“No, I didn’t, and now I feel deprived.”

“If you want, when we get back, I’ll help you climb in through a window.”

“Tempting, but just not the same when I have the key. What did you do that you had to sneak in?”

He took a long pause. “Stuff.”

“Hmmm. Now I have to worry if one day the boys will decide to do stuff, then sneak into the house. But not tonight. My biggest problem with them at the moment is Murphy’s decided his life is unfulfilled unless he has a puppy, and they’ve joined forces against me.”

“You don’t like dogs?”

“I like dogs, and they should have a dog. Eventually.”

“Is that like Mom for we’ll see?

“It’s in the neighborhood,” she admitted. “I think about it because they ought to have a dog. They adore my parents’ pug, Lucy, and Fido the cat.”

“Your parents have a cat named Fido? Why didn’t I know that?”

“He thinks he’s a dog, so we don’t spread it around. Anyway, I think they should have one, feel guilty they don’t. Then I think, oh God, who’s going to housebreak it, train it, haul it to the vet, feed it and walk it and all the rest? I tried to talk them into a kitten, but they’re not having it. Kittens, Liam informed me, with no little disgust, are for girls. I don’t know where they get that.”

She arched her eyebrows at his profile. “You agree with him?”

“Kittens are for girls. Cats now, they can go either way.”

“You know that’s ridiculous.”

“I don’t make the rules. What kind of dog do they want?”

“They don’t know.” She sighed because the boys were wearing her down on the subject. “It’s the idea of a dog they’re in love with. I’m also told a dog would protect me from the bad guys when they’re not around.” She shrugged. “I’d go to the pound and adopt one, save a life, but how can you be sure the puppy you save won’t turn into a big, mean dog that barks at the mail carrier and terrorizes the neighbors? I need to research family-friendly breeds.”

He pulled into the restaurant parking lot. “You know Ry’s dog.”

“Everybody knows D.A.” She shifted to study his profile. “Ryder takes him everywhere. He’s a