He kept glancing in his rear view mirror to make sure she was still behind him. Yeah, those were her headlights.
For the first time in a long time, he was nervous. He tried to remember if his place—the little house he’d bought last year—was clean. Were there dirty clothes lying around? Dirty dishes? Did he have fresh sheets on the bed? Should he offer her wine first? Did he even have any?
And then he was turning the corner onto his street.
Okay, buddy boy. Here we go. Don’t fuck this up.
***
I’m doing it! I’m really doing it! Going home with this man who rocked my world.
God! I can’t believe this!
It wasn’t the beer. It wasn’t even the spurt of rebellion, or the choking frustration of her existence that had her following the black Jeep Cherokee through the quiet streets of the city. She could have gone into that club, listened to the music, tasted a new and different slice of life and gone home, hugging it to her like a treasured secret. No, it was the bass player. He’d looked out at her with his stormy eyes and an invisible but powerful connection had been forged.
This was the most daring thing she’d ever done.
All kinds of possibilities ran through her mind. She wasn’t dumb. Only an idiot would be completely unaware of what he had in mind. He was a musician, right? Her knowledge of his world was limited but she read all the gossip magazines. She was torn between a desire to step off a ledge into the unknown and fear that the fall would be more than she could handle. If she was smart she’d get away. Run back to her safe little world.
Yet she couldn’t make herself do it. The electricity that zapped between them the moment their eyes connected was bad enough. But the instant collision of senses when they’d kissed in the parking lot had invaded every nerve and muscle. No way could she have just gotten in her car and driven home. Not when temptation beckoned so strongly.
Wait. Are you crazy? What if he’s some kind of mad rapist? Or had a load of drugs stashed in his house? Or…Or what? He calls to you like no other man you’ve ever been with. You secretly wanted this the moment you felt that connection. And remember. You can always leave. Any time.
She was startled to realize they were driving in her neighborhood. But the street he turned into wasn’t a familiar one. Small bungalows lined both sides of a roadway guarded by ancient oaks. He pulled into a wide driveway, leaving room for her to park next to him. She climbed out of the car on legs not quite steady. This was the first time she’d ever followed a man home in her life, one she barely knew. Was she really about to step into the unknown with him? The thought both excited and terrified her. The same thrill she’d felt taking Mr. Piper’s car for a joy ride all those years ago surfaced now and sparked through her body.
Suddenly seized by an attack of nerves, she looked down to see her hands shaking as she turned off the ignition and dropped her keys into her purse. This was so far outside her comfort zone. What if he wanted more than she could give? What if she said yes to him and wasn’t any good at it? Her experience, especially for someone her age, was embarrassingly limited. Good, safe Andrew was only the third man she’d slept with, and she was pretty sure none of that had prepared her for whatever would happen tonight.
Oh, Andrew. He’d been the furthest thing from her mind. After tonight there was no going back, even if he wanted her. He was part of the Emma who had run from his house. Now she was filled with the desire to test her wings and her exhilaration was mixed with fear and guilt. For a very brief moment, she was tempted to turn the engine back on, back out into the street, and drive away like a bat out of hell.
What am I doing here?
Emma Blake didn’t go to rock clubs. Didn’t kiss strange men, especially rock musicians. Didn’t go home with them almost the moment after they met. Emma was the quintessential good girl who never did anything the least bit daring.
She quaked at the thought of what might happen if she went inside but she was sick and tired of her life that suddenly looked dull gray. Even though her anticipation was mixed with fear and guilt, she wanted to be a little wild and crazy. Push the envelope. Take a chance on what came next tonight. Whatever that was.
If I get hit by a car tomorrow, I’ll never know what might have been.
She paused to take in a steadying breath and let it out.
Okay, Emma. You wanted some excitement. Here it is, so don’t screw it up. Take a chance.
He waited for her to walk around the car and catch up to him, looking dark and mysterious in the ambient light from a street lamp. Emma put her hand into the one he was holding out to her, and he led her up the steps to the front door. Tiny sparks of electricity danced through her, heat suffusing her.
“I don’t even know your name,” he said as he fished one-handed for his house key.
“I don’t know yours, either,” she told him.
“It’s Marc. Marc Malone.” He opened the door and gestured for her to step inside. “What’s yours?”
“It’s…um….” Her
