Why Not Tonight?

much.”

And all he’d accomplished was to break her heart. Hell, it hurt just to think about that. And break his own heart in the process. It hurt to think about that, too. Which was ridiculous. It shouldn’t hurt after all these years.

Damn. He wasn’t at all sure he was happy to know all this. Especially since the knowledge set up a rapid-fire sequence of questions in his mind, all of which started with the words what if?

What if he hadn’t suggested they give each other their freedom?

What if she hadn’t agreed?

What if he’d told her he was in love with her?

What if-

She lightly squeezed his hands, cutting off his thoughts. Then sliding her fingers from his, she gave a light laugh. “Look at us, so serious and caught up in the past. It all happened so long ago and what’s done is done. The good news is that we managed to remain friends. How many former lovers can make that claim?”

He didn’t know. He didn’t care. All he knew was that he felt…undone. And couldn’t shake this profound, disturbing sense that he’d lost something very, very special.

The silence between them was broken by the radio announcer’s smooth voice. “Here’s the latest blackout update-technicians are working to restore power, but there’re still no estimates as to when the system will go back on line. Hopefully you’re somewhere you can light a few more candles and make the most of the dark. Give us a call here at Sensuous Songs and Decadent Dedications and we’ll play something to help you set the mood for seduction. Our next dedication goes out to Mallory from Adam. Mallory, Adam requested this song because it’s always reminded him of you.” The announcer chuckled softly. “Guess we can all figure out what color eyes Mallory has. Here’s Van Morrison’s ‘Brown Eyed Girl’…”

Mallory stared at the radio and her heart performed a slow somersault. She still hadn’t recovered from Adam’s mind-boggling confession that he’d been in love with her, had cooled off their relationship not from lack of feeling but out of fear, and now this romantic gesture. She turned toward him and even though she knew he’d requested the song, she asked, “Is this from Adam to Mallory as in from you to me?”

“You know any other Adam and a brown-eyed Mallory?”

“When did you call in?”

“When I went to the kitchen.” Without taking his gaze from her, he stood and held out his hand. “Wanna dance? For old times’ sake?”

Not entirely trusting her voice, she nodded, then shifted to the edge of the bed and stood. She put her hand in his and he drew her closer, setting their joined hands against his chest and wrapping his free arm around her waist. She skimmed her other hand up and over his shoulder to encircle his neck then closed her eyes and rested her temple against his jaw.

A lump lodged in her throat as she was bombarded with a myriad of memories. Adam holding her just like this, turning his head to brush his lips against her hair. His warm breath brushing past her ear, shooting tingles of pleasure all the way down to her feet. His body touching hers from chest to knee as they slowly swayed to the music.

She leaned back to look at him. His gaze searched hers, intense and filled with those same flickers of confusion she’d seen earlier. And something else she couldn’t decipher. Was he experiencing the same unsettling sense of the past as she? Was he asking himself the same “what if” questions that were crazily bouncing around in her mind?

What if instead of agreeing when he’d suggested they give each other their freedom she’d told him she was in love with him?

What if she’d listened to what he’d had to say when he’d called her at college before letting her pride claim she’d started a new relationship?

What if-

“Since the day we met,” he said, cutting off her reverie, “I’ve thought of you every single time I’ve heard this song.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she shoved the useless “what if” questions aside. There was no point in dwelling on what-might-have-beens. She forced a smile and what she hoped passed for a lighthearted laugh. “Uh- huh. Me and how many other brown-eyed girls that you’ve known over the years?”

He didn’t smile back. “Just you.”

She tried to hold off the thrill that washed through her at his softly spoken admission, but it was like trying to hold back the ocean with a rake.

“Not just because you have brown eyes,” he continued, “although that’s definitely part of the reason-”

“I kinda figured.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up. “But it’s also the words… They’ve just always brought such a vivid image of you to mind. Especially the part about making love behind the stadium.”

Mallory thought for a second, then shook her head. “We never made love behind the stadium.”

“I know. But I always wanted to. One of the many adolescent fantasies you inspired-getting it on with my girl behind the stadium, underneath the bleachers.”

“So why didn’t you ever bring me there? It’s not like the high school was a plane ride away. I would have been happy to indulge you.”

“I meant to. But then we…ran out of time.”

Ran out of time… The words echoed through Mallory’s brain. Yes, they had run out of time back then, just as they would soon run out of time now. This night would end and they’d go their separate ways, a reality she firmly pushed aside. Reality would intrude upon them soon enough. Until then, fantasy was all that mattered. So before they went their separate ways…

A smile curved up her lips. “Let’s get dressed.”

He gave a short laugh. “Totally the opposite of what I was about to say.”

She ruffled her fingers through the silky hair at his nape. “If you get dressed, I’ll make your fantasy come true.”

“If you get naked, my fantasy will come true a lot quicker.”

She laughed. “I mean your ‘behind the stadium’ fantasy. The local high school is only about a quarter mile away.” She rubbed her pelvis suggestively against his. “Let’s get dressed, walk over there and take care of this unfulfilled fantasy of yours. What do you say?”

For an answer, he yanked off her towel, then his. “Let’s get dressed.”

11

Sunday, 2:30 a.m.

WALKING ALONG the dark, quiet street lit by nothing more than the hazy silver glow of moonlight, her fingers lightly entwined with Adam’s, Mallory pulled in a deep breath. The air was hot, humid, heavy with moisture, and smelled of cut grass and summer flowers. And the clean, fresh, masculine scent of the freshly showered man walking beside her.

Another wave of memories inundated her, of that magical summer when she’d fallen so deeply in love with him. They’d frequently taken long walks, sometimes in the park, sometimes along the beach. Leisurely strolls, hand in hand, talking about everything and nothing. People they knew. Places they’d been and wanted to visit. Their favorite things and least favorite stuff. Sports. School. Books. Music. Movies. It seemed as if they never ran out of conversation. As far as she was concerned, there hadn’t been enough hours in the day to cram in everything there was to say and do.

She’d loved talking to him. Listening to his deep voice. His laugh. His gentle teasing as he tried to convince her that since she was now a New Yorker she needed to switch her baseball allegiance from the Cubs to the Yankees.

Yet she’d also cherished their comfortable silences, the times when they’d just sit, their arms wrapped around each other, and watch the sunset. Or the gulls fight over a morsel left by the day’s beachgoers. How she’d close her eyes and lean against him, absorbing the feel of him surrounding her, and think that this was just the beginning of