I’m In No Mood For Love

She looked down at her robe and bare feet as she pulled a brush through her damp hair. “Where are you?”

“On your porch?”

Her hand stopped, as well as the blood flow to her head. “You’re outside my house?”

“Yeah.”

She tossed the brush on her bed and walked from her bedroom toward the entryway. She opened the door and there he stood, wearing a white T-shirt beneath a deep green wool button-up and looking beautiful. Smile lines creased the corners of his green eyes, and he hooked his phone to the brown leather belt wrapped around the hips of his faded jeans. Oh God, she was in trouble.

“Hello, Clare.” The sound of his voice sent hot little tingles up her spine and raised little goose bumps on the back of her arms.

“What are you doing?” she asked into the receiver. “You didn’t tell me you were coming to visit Leo.”

“Leo doesn’t know I’m here.” He took the phone from her, hit the Off button, then handed it back. “I flew in to see you.”

She looked behind him at the Mustang parked in her driveway. It had Idaho plates. “Me?” Her heart wanted to take that as a sign that he cared for her more than just as a friend with benefits, but her head wouldn’t let her.

“Yeah. I want to spend the night. The whole night. Like when you came and stayed with me in Seattle. I don’t want to sneak back to Leo’s like a kid. Like we’re doing something wrong.”

She should send him away before she fell even more in love with him, but the problem was, it was far too late. She opened the door wide and let him in. “You want to sleep here?”

“Eventually.” He followed her inside and waited until she’d closed the door before he reached for her.

“There’s lace on my bed, remember? Something bad might happen if you sleep in a girly girl bed.”

He pulled her against his chest. “I’ll risk it.”

“Thanks for the birthday gift.” She smiled and placed her hands on his shoulders. “It was very thoughtful of you to get it here on my birthday.”

“Did you like it?”

“Loved it.”

“Show me,” he said as he swooped in and planted a kiss on her mouth. He touched her as he always did, only this time there was a difference in the way she responded. No matter how she tried to hide from it, she was in love with Sebastian. Her heart was involved, and when she took him to her bedroom, it was more than just sex. More than pleasure and gratification. For the first time, she truly made love to him. The warmth of emotion spread through her body from the inside out. From the center of her chest outward to the tips of her fingers and toes. When it was over, she pulled him close and kissed his bare shoulder.

“You must have really missed me,” he said next to her ear. He’d noticed the difference in their sex but misinterpreted what was behind it.

Sebastian stayed with her for two days and talked to her about growing up with his mother and his guilt over his relationship with his father. He told her how angry he’d been when he’d been sent away as a child. She suspected he’d been more than angry. Although he might not admit it, she was sure he’d been hurt and bewildered too.

“I learned my lesson. That was the last time I told a girl how babies are made,” he said.

“Good. I was terrified of sex for years after that, and it was all your fault.”

He’d placed an innocent hand on his chest. “Mine?”

“Yes. You told me sperms were the same size as tadpoles.”

He’d laughed. “I don’t remember, but I probably did.”

“You did.”

They talked about their writing, and he told her he’d been hard at work on his book. He talked about the twists and turns of the plot and said he figured he was about halfway through. He also confessed he’d read all her books. She’d been so shocked she hadn’t known what to say.

“If they didn’t have half-naked guys on the covers, I think more men would read them,” he told her over dinner at her house.

She hadn’t thought it possible, but that night, looking across the table while he ate veal with sage marinade, she fell in love with him even more. “It may surprise you to know that I do have male readers. They write me all the time.” She smiled. “Of course, they’re all incarcerated for crimes they didn’t commit.”

He paused over his veal and looked up at her. “I hope you don’t write them back.”

“No.” Perhaps he didn’t love her now, but he was here, with her, and who knew how he would feel next week or next month.

The next time Sebastian drove into Boise, he was on his way home from a ski trip in Park City, Utah, where he’d met up with some of his journalism friends. It had been three weeks since his last visit, and he had plans to stay with Leo for several days and do some fishing at Strike Dam, where his father had told him people were pulling out twenty-two-inch rainbows. But within a few hours of his arrival, he called and picked Clare up at her house. Sebastian hated shopping more than any man she’d ever known, and he conned her into going to the mall with him. Leo’s back had started “acting up” and they went in search of a massager. Sebastian hoped to get his father feeling good enough for the drive to the dam in the morning.

Due to the change in plans, Sebastian decided to relax with Clare that evening and watch “kick-ass movies,” eat “salty popcorn,” and “drink beer.” At least they agreed on the popcorn. Clare was more of a wine person and preferred chick flicks, but he’d promised she would get to pick the movie next time.

“What was your favorite movie growing up?” Clare asked as they walked into Brookstone.

Without hesitation he said, “Willie Wonka.”

“Willie Wonka?” Clare stopped next to a display of ergonomic pillows. “I hated Willie Wonka.”

He glanced at her across his shoulder. “How can any kid hate Willie Wonka?”

They moved farther into the store, past a couple with twins in a double stroller, and Clare asked, “Didn’t you ever wonder why Grandpa Joe wouldn’t get out of bed until Willie came home with the golden ticket?”

“No.”

They stopped at the display of massagers. “For years he’d just laid there with the other grandparents while Willie’s mother worked to support them.” She picked up a massager the size of a pen and set it back down. “Then Willie gets the ticket, and puff, Grandpa Joe’ s magically cured. He starts dancing around and can go to Wonka Land all spry and energetic.”

“Once again, you overthink everything,” Sebastian said, and picked up a massager with a bulbous blue head. “Like most kids, I just thought about all that candy.” He grinned and held up the massager. “What does this remind you of?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she lied, and took it from his hands. She replaced it with one that had a big triangular head and couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

“What was your favorite movie?” he asked as he flipped the switch and rubbed it across the back of her pink fleece jacket.

“Ahh.” She shivered and her voice rattled a little as she spoke. “I have several. When I was little, my favorite movie was Cinderella. The old Rodgers and Hammerstein television version. When I was in junior high, I loved Pretty in Pink and Sixteen Candles.”

“Pretty in Pink? Is that one of those Molly Ringwald movies?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it?”

“Hell no.” He flipped the Off switch and picked up a massage belt. “I’m a guy. We don’t watch movies like that unless there’s something in it for us.”

“Sex.”

He grinned. “Or at least second base.”

She laughed and turned toward a massage chair. Her laughter died and shock lifted her brows as she came face-to-face with her past.

“Hello, Clare.”

“Lonny.” He was as handsome and as groomed as she remembered. By his side stood a blonde about his same height.