Why Not Tonight?

A lump formed in Mallory’s throat and she sipped on her drink to dispel it. “Adam’s made a number of plans for his immediate future that make it impossible for us to get together anytime soon, if ever.”

Mrs. Trigali waved her hand. “You can’t expect that it would easy, Mallory. Remember a woman’s rule of thumb-if it has tires or testicles, you’re going to have trouble with it. No man is easy. It’s just that some are worth the effort.”

Tires or testicles? Mallory choked back a laugh and nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She was saved from further comment when Adam and Mr. Finney approached the table bearing two heaping platters of food.

“That grill is incredible,” Adam said, sitting down next to Mallory. “Like something out of a restaurant. With that large, flat cast-iron cooking surface, I’ve never seen anything like it. I made the scrambled eggs,” he said, sounding extremely proud.

“Those crispy black ones?” Mallory teased.

“Ha. Taste this.” He held a forkful of fluffy yellow eggs to her lips.

“Delicious,” she said after she swallowed the sample. “You’re a regular Emeril.”

“Who?”

Everyone laughed, then filled their plates. Talk turned to the blackout and speculation as to when the power might come back on.

“Last I heard on the radio was they were hoping everything would be back to normal by this afternoon,” Mr. Finney said.

The back gate opened and several more neighbors arrived bearing food. “Hey, Ray,” said Bill Porter who lived across the street, “got room for a few more? We come bearing Danish and doughnuts.”

“The more the merrier,” Mr. Finney said, waving them in.

After performing quick introductions to Adam, Mallory rose and said, “You can take our seats. Adam and I need to get going.”

“So soon?” Mr. Finney said.

“I’m afraid so,” Mallory said. “I have to call the clients I was supposed to meet today and figure out what we’re going to do. Thank you for breakfast. It was delicious.”

“Same time, next Sunday,” Mr. Finney said, saluting them with his grill tongs. “I’ll give you another lesson, Adam.”

An odd look passed over Adam’s features, but was gone so quickly Mallory wondered if she’d imagined it. “Thanks, but I’ll be away.”

“Oh, right,” Mr. Finney said. “The trip you mentioned. Well, maybe when you get back. The invitation is open.”

“Thank you.”

They said their goodbyes, then departed through the gate leading toward the driveway. After closing the gate behind them, Adam clasped her hand, entwining their fingers.

“Good breakfast,” he said, patting his stomach with his free hand.

“Very good.”

“And enjoyable company, although your exit strategy came at the perfect time.”

“Actually it wasn’t a strategy. I really do need to call the clients I have appointments with this afternoon and check in at my office. Realtors don’t get Sundays off.”

Adam didn’t need a magnifying glass to read the fine print beneath her words, and disappointment rushed through him. Keeping his voice perfectly neutral, he said, “So I guess that means you’ll want me to get going.”

“I’m afraid so. But you know what they say about all good things.”

Yeah. They came to an end. Who the hell had made up that crappy rule?

“Besides,” she continued, “I’m sure you have a lot to do before leaving on your trip tomorrow.”

He did. Laundry. Packing. Putting stops on his mail and newspapers. Dropping by Nick’s place to give him spare keys to his apartment and car. Lots of little details. All of which he’d been looking forward to in anticipation of his trip. None of which he now had any desire to do.

That’s because you’re not currently thinking with your big brain, man, his inner voice said with a smirk.

Very true, that.

But surely as soon as he got away from this woman he’d feel differently and his enthusiasm for his trip would return. It was just the sex that was messing with his mind. And making him reluctant to get away from her.

“Did you pick up on the vibe between Mrs. Trigali and Mr. Finney?” she asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Oh, yeah. Hey, you don’t think we were only talking about bacon and eggs over at the grill, do you?”

She turned her head to look at him and raised her brows. “Actually, yes, that’s what I thought. What else did you talk about?”

He shook his head, giving her his best regretful look. “Sorry, babe. Male confidences exchanged over grilling meats are sacred.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“How would you know this? By your own admission, you don’t know the first thing about grilling meats.”

“It’s instinctual to the male of the species. Laws of nature, laws of the jungle and all that.”

“Uh-huh.” They arrived at her house and after closing the door behind them, she leaned against the oak panel and kicked off her flip-flops. “I have ways of making you talk.”

Cocking an eyebrow at her discarded footwear, he asked, “You planning to smack me with a flip-flop?”

“Oh, no.” She shot him a blatantly suggestive look that traveled upward from his feet, lingering on his crotch, before finally meeting his gaze.

He crossed his arms over his chest in an effort to look fierce but was really to keep him from grabbing her, and narrowed his eyes. “Are you suggesting that you think you can simply exert your feminine wiles upon me and I’ll spill my secrets?”

“I’m not suggesting it-I’m flat-out saying it.”

“Ha. I’d like to see you try.”

“If I did try, you’d fold like a house of cards.”

In a heartbeat. “No way.”

“You’re really tempting me to prove you wrong.”

He slanted a crooked grin at her. “I’m trying my best.”

“In that case, I’d hate to disappoint you…” With her gaze steady on his, she slowly unbuttoned her sleeveless top, then let the garment slide off her arms and fall to the floor.

Forcing himself to remain still and not erase the arm’s length distance between them, he watched as she reached behind her and unhooked her lacy pale blue bra. His gaze tracked the path of the thin straps sliding down her arms and the bra falling to the floor to land on top of her shirt. She then settled her shoulders against the door and skimmed her hands slowly down her body.

He felt his vision blur. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he watched her cup her breasts, teasing her nipples into hardened peaks.

Her gaze dropped to the very obvious bulge behind the zipper in his jeans, a look that felt like a caress, and affected him as surely as if she’d touched him. Then he damn near forgot how to breathe when she glided her hands down her torso and slowly shimmied her shorts and panties down her legs. After flicking the clothes aside with her foot, she leisurely straightened, tracing her splayed fingers back up the length of her body.

“Are you ready to give up your secrets?” she asked, dragging a fingertip over her nipple.

“Sure. As soon as I can think straight again.”

Reaching out, she hooked her index finger into the waistband of his jeans and pulled him closer, until his pelvis bumped hers.

“That’s not going to help me think straight, sweetheart.”

Tunneling her hands into his hair, she slid her leg up his and hooked her thigh over his hip, then dragged his head down for a lush, intimate kiss.

Damn, neither was that.