hidden. Tell me about this one on your arm.”

“Japanese for success. As for your challenge...” A lazy grin spread across his mouth as traced his fingers down her arm. Whether the words or touch made her shiver, she couldn’t say, but either reason worked. This would be entertaining. The two on her ankles were easy to find, but she wouldn’t tell him the hidden one was a micro-tattoo on the inside of her left middle finger. If he hadn’t found it by their third date, she’d explain why she had a rail-road crossing on her body.

SHE SHOULD BE EXHAUSTED. As promised, he proved an attentive lover, but he’d only found two of her tattoos, the dove and the butterfly – peace and transformation, Grandma and mom. He had two of his own, Greek Fraternity letters and the Kanji symbol he claimed meant success. Laying under the covers in the stillness of the night her body barely wanted to move. He had nice sheets, the high thread count soft against her skin. The pillows possessed that perfect balance between fluffiness and firmness. The room’s cool temperature gave enough incentive to snuggle for warmth but wasn’t uncomfortable.

Rolling her head to the side, she watched him sleep. Her lover. She wanted to shout to the world that she met a wonderful man, one who could cook and make her laugh and make her toes curl in and out of the bedroom. She doubted he was ready to make such a declaration. She traced the tattoo on his arm, muscle memory kicked in. The symbol was familiar to her and it didn’t mean what he thought it did, but he needed the idea of meaning more than truth. He moaned and nuzzled her neck, hand cradling her bare breasts. “Stay.”

The emotional side of her wanted to, but Claire knew better. Someone surely had seen her enter the old Russell place and if someone else saw her anywhere near the place in the morning, tongues would wag disapprovingly and she’d be labeled a tramp, at least by the old guard. Like mother like daughter. The community embraced her eccentricities only because she kept her reputation sparkling clean. James was good, but even he might not be worth that risk. She needed more time to be certain and she already took too many chances by coming to his house and staying as long as she did.

The clock on the nightstand read two twenty-three. Perfect. She could get home with plenty of time for a little work and a quick nap before that stupid meeting. He twitched as she kissed his cheek but didn’t awaken. Quietly, she slipped on her clothes – mostly – she grabbed his shirt to replace her missing one- and then scribbled a note on the condom box. She plucked her dirty tank top off the steps. “I’ll put you in my pocket.”

The kitchen was a landmine of broken pottery. Since the Russell place shared the same floorplan as Jo’s house, she had a good idea where to look for a broom. She tiptoed to the pantry to the left of the door.

“Success.” An ancient broom with fraying bristles and a clip-on dustpan leaned in the corner. As quietly as possible, she swept the floor and straightened up. “He can do the dishes, but at least he won’t step on a shard barefooted.” After replacing the broom, she slipped out the backdoor, hoping no one had installed a super high fence or security lights on her route through the backyards.

Chapter 9

His day started with a cold and empty bed. He wanted to wake up next to Claire, to see her hair sprawled across his pillows as the sunlight crept in and to watch a sly grin transform her face from innocent to wanton. In the lazy twilight between sleep and consciousness, he wondered what she liked for breakfast and how she drank her coffee. Instead, he woke up unsettled and alone. Not that he would have had much time for coffee. He needed to get into the office.

He picked up what he could find of his clothes, and then showered, both with a sense of unease. Never had an empty bed bothered him so much. She’d turned his world upside down. Even before making love, and in his mind, that seemed the best way to describe last night, she made him laugh and think.

Would Claire prefer the whimsy of the martini glass tie or the simplicity of the black on black silk check? The black glided over his fingers, but the texture and tone weren’t right. With all he had to do at the office, the basic red bespoke power. Plus the color was closer to Claire’s flushed lips. When the day got bad, he could look at the tie and think of her. Except, she left before they made plans and he still didn’t know her last name or where she lived.

With the covers aired out, he made the bed. As he reached for pillows on the floor, the condom box caught his attention. Claire must have ripped open the box because on one flap was a drawing of a phone, with a number on the screen. “Use wisely.”

“Oh, I will.” Right up until the competition for the partnership ended and he was able to get the hell out of Dodge.

His muscles relaxed as he fluffed the pillows. Over the past weekend, Danny convinced the partners to extend the competition to the end of the bookstore’s fiscal year in January. The extension hurt his chances to become partner, unless Ohio experienced an exceptionally cold January. But it gave him a little more time with Claire. He didn’t like the idea of this burgeoning relationship having a pre-determined expiration date, but she could make his time more tolerable.

James went downstairs, but instead of the mess he expected, he saw dishes in the sink and a swept floor. Her tidiness was another point in her favor. He filled and started

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