Why Not Tonight?

3

Saturday, 1:00 p.m.

THE INSTANT MALLORY EXITED Picture This, a blast of hot air engulfed her and she suppressed a grimace. Thanks to her accidental brushing against Adam’s chest, she needed more heat like she needed a hole in her head. But at least she could blame the unwanted all-over body flush she’d experienced on the weather.

“Nothing like a heat wave in New York in July,” she remarked, her tone miraculously casual considering how…un-casual she felt. “It’s supposed to hit one hundred today. And tomorrow.”

Adam groaned. “Tell me again why we’re working and not at the beach?”

Instantly images of them together at the beach flipped through her mind like a tormenting slide show. Hot bodies submerged in cool ocean water. Touching, rubbing, caressing, his hands sliding beneath her swimsuit, her fingers exploring through his.

Had he purposely mentioned the beach to trigger memories? She glanced at him, but his expression was innocence itself. Too innocent? Maybe. Well, if he wanted to play “Let’s Reminisce,” she was game.

“The reason we’re not at the beach is because clearly we’re insane.” She pointed to the building on the next corner. “How about the diner?”

Their gazes locked, then a slow smile curved his lips. Her heart seemed to lurch sideways. Was he thinking about the one time they’d gone to that diner? He satisfied her curiosity by saying, “The Stardust Diner. For old times’ sake. Sounds great.”

Less than five minutes later they were seated in a booth near the rear of the bustling diner, ensconced in blissful air-conditioning with frosty glasses of ice water and leather-bound menus set in front in them. Mallory took a much-needed sip of her drink, noting with annoyance that her hand gripping the glass wasn’t quite steady.

Ridiculous. It was simply ridiculous that she felt this…unraveled in his presence. But there was no denying she did, and that annoyed her. As did the Greg-induced guilt that kept nudging her. It’s just lunch, she told her overactive conscience. She’d enjoy the meal with an old friend, reminisce, catch up, and that would be the end of it. Nothing wrong with that.

Feeling better after her quick mental pep talk, she didn’t open her menu, just pushed it to the end of the table.

“Already know what you want?” he asked with a smile.

You. Naked and sweaty. The inappropriate thought popped into Mallory’s mind with the sudden shock of a cobra strike and she barely contained the horrified Ack! that rose to her lips.

Oh, boy, this was not good. She should not have accepted this invitation. And for a few seconds after he’d issued it, she’d considered saying no. But her idiotic pride had shot her better judgment aside with a well-placed arrow. If you refuse, any excuse you give will sound like just that-an excuse. Then he’ll wonder why you really didn’t want to have a simple, innocent lunch with him. Yes-and she certainly didn’t want him to think that the real reason was that she’d been thinking about him all week-in ways she shouldn’t have been thinking about him. Remembering him naked and sweaty. Wondering if his skin still felt the same. Tasted the same.

“You okay, Mallory?”

His concerned voice yanked her back to reality. “I’m fine. Just a little…overheated.” And she sent up a mental prayer of thanks that it was July and not January or else he’d think she was nuts.

“So what are you going to order?”

If only he’d phrased his question like that the first time, maybe she wouldn’t be in this painfully-aware-of-him situation. She heaved a mental sigh. No, she’d still be in this same situation. “I’m getting the usual.”

“A bacon cheeseburger, side of onion rings and a chocolate shake?”

A wave of unwanted pleasure washed over her. “We came here once. You remember what I ordered?”

“Yup. I was impressed. Every other girl I knew would have ordered a salad with the dressing on the side. Especially if she was wearing a prom dress.”

Their gazes met and there was no holding back the flood of memories that swamped her. Sitting in this very diner at 5:00 a.m. the night-or rather morning-after her senior prom. She was dressed in her pale green formal, Adam was in his dad’s black tux. Her boyfriend from Chicago had gotten sick and couldn’t travel to New York to escort her. Adam, already home from college for the summer, had gallantly offered to step in. It was the night that had marked the beginning of the change in their relationship. The night she’d realized she could no longer ignore the powerful attraction she felt for him.

“You were my knight in shining armor,” she said, unable to control the slight hitch in her voice.

He laughed. “More like your knight in an ill-fitting tux.”

“Are you kidding? You were gorgeous. I was the envy of every girl there. Especially since you were a college man.”

“The way I recall it, you were the gorgeous one and I was the envy of every guy there.”

More pleasure washed through her at his words and she inwardly scowled at herself for being such a sucker for flattery. “Hardly. But still, I’ll never forget how sweet you were, picking me up in your Jeep-”

“The limo of champions-”

“-which you’d washed and waxed for the occasion. And the orchid corsage. Do you know, I still have that flower? It’s pressed between the pages of my year-book. I must have looked at that flattened orchid a thousand times that summer after the prom.”

That summer after the prom…

The words hung between them and she could tell by the way his eyes darkened that he recalled how they’d spent those few magical weeks.

“How come you looked at the corsage?”

She hesitated, then decided what the hell, there was no harm in telling him after all these years. “It reminded me of you.”

“A flattened, brown, dried-out flower. Gee, thanks a lot.”

She laughed at his arid tone. “I meant it reminded me of that night. Of what a great time I had. Because of you.”

He studied her for several seconds over the rim of his water glass, his steady gaze shooting tingles down her spine. “I had a great time, too.”

Determined to prove to herself that their past was something she could discuss with breezy nonchalance, she gave a light laugh. “You were such a perfect gentleman that night…and I so badly didn’t want you to be.”

He lowered his glass to the table. “If it makes you feel any better, it practically killed me to be such a perfect gentleman,” he said in an equally light tone. “You were so beautiful, and you smelled so good. All those slow dances? I thought I was going to lose my mind.”

She recalled the delicious sensation of being held in his arms while they swayed to the music. His hard body brushing against hers. The forbidden thrill she’d experienced knowing she’d aroused him. The agony of wanting to kiss him, touch him, explore all the urgent, impossible-to-ignore feelings he inspired. Her honor preventing her from giving in. The guilt she’d felt about feeling so powerfully attracted to Adam when she already had a boyfriend. Sort of like the way she was feeling right-

She ruthlessly cut off that thought before it went any further.

“I guess you could say that was the night that changed things between us,” Adam said softly.

She nodded. There was no denying that night had added fuel to the flame that had been flickering in her heart for months. Less than a week later, it flared into an inferno and they’d gone from friends to lovers.

“As far as I’m concerned,” he continued, “the prom theme might as well have been Gentlemen, start your engines. I think I made my move about thirty seconds after you broke up with your boyfriend.”

Yes. And it had been the longest thirty seconds she’d ever had to endure.

His gaze searched hers. “That was a great summer.”

“Yes, it was.” The most memorable of her life. Of course, it wasn’t necessary that she share that tidbit of info with him.

A half smile pulled up his lips. “Remember the day we rented the boat?”

In a heartbeat a wealth of sensual memories crammed into her mind, obliterating everything else, and a breathy laugh escaped her. “Didn’t catch many fish, did we?”

“Fish? That wasn’t why we rented the boat.”

Dear God, no, it wasn’t. She barely resisted the urge to press her glass of ice water against her heated face.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze steady on hers. He was so close, less than an arm’s length away. Much too close.

“It was to see how many times we could make love in a single afternoon,” he said softly. “Your idea, as I recall.”

Fire raced through her, recalling that glorious day spent in naked splendor in complete privacy in the quiet cove they’d found. Gentle waves slapping against the hull, hot sun, the scent of salt water and sunshine mixed with the musk of their passion.

She had to swallow to find her voice. “My idea,” she agreed. “Although I didn’t hear any complaints.”

“Hell, no.”

Oh, boy. Flames licked under her skin at the turn of this conversation, the barrage of sensual images of the past it inspired. She needed to steer the subject to safer waters. Immediately.

“And now look at us,” she said, proud of her coolly amused tone, “almost ten years later, back at the old Stardust Diner. Eating the same artery-clogging food.”

“All because you came into Picture This last week.” He looked at her with an indecipherable expression. “I guess what they say about timing being everything is true.”

“Yes.” And it occurred to her that their entire past had been determined by the whims of timing. First she’d had a boyfriend. Then Adam had suggested they were too young to embark on an exclusive relationship. Then the few subsequent times they’d seen each other, they’d both been involved with someone.

Their timing now wasn’t any better-not that it mattered, of course. They were way past their youthful affair. Still, she couldn’t deny it gave her a feminine thrill to know he remembered so many details of their time together. Following immediately on the heels of that feminine thrill was an undeniable sense of curiosity mixed with loss. What might have happened if their timing hadn’t always been so bad?

Their gazes locked and a tingle zoomed through her at the speculation in his eyes. Could he be thinking the same thing? Not that it mattered. Not a bit. Nope.

The waitress appeared at their table and she welcomed the interruption of her runaway thoughts. “Ready to order?”

Adam laid his menu, unopened, on top of hers. “Two bacon cheeseburgers, two orders of onion rings, two chocolate shakes.”

After the waitress left, Mallory said, “Not a meal I indulge in often anymore, but on the rare occasion I come to this diner, it’s a must-have. For old times’ sake.”

“Nothing wrong with indulging yourself. For old times’ sake.”

Again their gazes held and Mallory swore something flashed in his eyes. Something that curled more of that unwanted and unsettling heat through her veins. The last thing she wanted to think about while within fifty yards of Adam Clayton was indulging herself. Definitely time get this conversation back on course.

Leaning her elbows on the Formica table she said, “Okay, spill it. What have you been doing for the past five years?”

“I can pretty much sum it up in one word-working. You?”

“Oh, no. You don’t get off that easily.”

He leaned back and shrugged. “I’m not exaggerating. I’d just completed and passed all the reviews and qualifications necessary to purchase my own seat on the stock exchange when my father died.”

He paused and Mallory easily read the sadness in his eyes. The last time she’d seen Adam before she’d walked into Picture This last week had been at his dad’s funeral. Adam had looked pale and drawn, his expression bleak, and her heart had broken for him and his family. Without thinking, she reached out and laid her hand over his.

And instantly realized her error.

She’d meant it only to be a friendly gesture of sympathy, an innocent show of understanding, but there was nothing innocent about the jolt of desire that shot through her by touching him. Her first reaction was to snatch her hand away as if he’d burned her, but that would make her look like an idiot. And God help her, she really liked the way his warm, strong hand felt beneath hers.

After licking her suddenly dry lips, she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Adam. I know how close you and your father were.”

He glanced down at her hand resting on his and a muscle jerked in his jaw. “He was only forty-eight.”

“I know.” She gently withdrew her hand, then settled it on her lap, so she could clasp her fingers together to retain the warmth of his skin without him knowing.

Looking up, he rested his gaze on hers. “There’s no doubt that the stress of the job contributed greatly to his heart attack, and I could easily see the exact same thing happening to me a few years down the road. He willed his seat on the exchange to me, and my first reaction was to just sell it. Walk away. And I almost did. But I felt such a connection to him there. I found I couldn’t just abandon all the plans we’d made together.”

“So you stayed.”

“Yes. Took over the seat. But I promised myself I wouldn’t let what happened to him happen to me. I wasn’t going to work myself into an early grave. I gave myself until my thirty-fifth birthday as a deadline-that was enough time to save and plan and also a good time to reassess my life and goals. So, for the last five years I worked like a dog. Devoted all my time and energy to the job. Saved and invested wisely. Good thing, because three months ago, fate stepped in in the form of chest pains.”

Her shocked concern must have shown on her face because he quickly shook his head. “Not a heart attack. Doctor said it was stress. That if I didn’t change my lifestyle, reduce my stress levels, learn to relax, given my family history I was headed in the exact direction I’d sworn I’d never take. Couple weeks later I sold my seat on the exchange. Called it a thirtieth birthday present to myself-a gift that would insure I was around to celebrate my fortieth and live to a ripe old age.”

“So you’ve been working at Picture This for the past two months?”

“No. My mom and grandmother moved to South Carolina after my dad died. I spent the first three weeks visiting them.” A crooked smile curved his lips. “It was great. I hadn’t taken a vacation in five years, and they spoiled me rotten. Home-cooked meals every night, sleeping in late. I can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed.

“Then I spent the next month finishing the basement in Nick’s house for him. With the baby on the way, he needed the extra room, and I really enjoyed working with my hands again. Nothing like hammering in Sheetrock and smearing Spackle to clear the mind.”

A memory of him, shirtless, sweaty, gorgeous, wielding a hammer as he built a shed in his family’s backyard, flashed through her mind, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Forcing a smile, she said, “I’ll take your word for it-but I recall that you liked to spackle and smear.”

“Yup. When I finished the basement, Nick asked me if I’d like to pitch in at the studio until after the baby was born. Since I had the time and hadn’t decided what I wanted to do career-wise yet, I figured why not? I started two days before you walked through the door.”

Her brows shot upward. “Two days? Just how much experience do you have as a photographer?”

He grinned. “You were my first customer.”

Fire rushed into her cheeks. She folded her arms across her chest and drummed her fingers against her arm, half annoyed, half amused. “You failed to mention that before I started posing in my lingerie.”

“Damn right. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Incorrigible is more like it.”

“A minute ago I was a knight in shining armor.”

“Times change.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, it’s not as if I’d never used a camera before. You’re looking at the former vice president of Kennedy High School’s photography club.”

Her lips twitched. “A ringing endorsement.”

He didn’t add, And it’s not as if I haven’t seen you wearing less, but he didn’t need to-the heated gleam in his eyes said it all. And made her want to squirm in her seat.

“Take a look at the pictures,” he said. “If you don’t like them, I’ll reschedule you so Nick can take them.”

The instant the words left Adam’s mouth, he felt a frown pull down his brows. Somehow the thought of Nick taking photos of Mallory in her sexy lingerie didn’t sit well.

Cripes, he was really losing his marbles. Nick was happily married. And Mallory had a boyfriend-the guy these pictures were taken for. And somehow that thought didn’t sit well, either. Damn.

And it suddenly hit him that this lunch hadn’t been a good idea. Seeing her, spending time with her, reminiscing with her, remembering how she’d felt in his arms, under him, over him, wrapped around him, was serving no purpose other than to torture him-something he hadn’t really expected. So why the hell was he tortured? She was taken. Unavailable. He was about to head for Europe for three months as a carefree bachelor. Available for a fling with any woman who struck his fancy. He and Mallory were wrong for each other in every way.

Yet even knowing that, the mere sight of her seemed to turn him inside out. It wouldn’t be so bad if he weren’t still so damned attracted to her, but he was. Painfully so. But he couldn’t just stand up and leave. He’d have to see this through. Besides, standing up wasn’t a good idea if he didn’t want to advertise exactly how her nearness affected him.

And damn it, how annoying was that? He was a grown man-not some horny, hormonal teenager who couldn’t control his body. Yeah-a statement that had been perfectly true until he’d sat across from her. Looked into those warm brown eyes. Shared memories of the past. Of them naked, making love all afternoon on a rented boat. Until she’d touched him. Then in a heartbeat it was goodbye in-control-grown-man, hello hard-on. Definitely not good.

“I’m anxious to see the photos,” she said, “but the waitress is approaching with our food. I’d better wait till after we eat so I don’t get bacon cheeseburger on the pictures.”

Forcefully redirecting his thoughts to their lunch, he said, “Good idea. Nothing worse than cholesterol on your lingerie.” Oh, that’s brilliant-the perfect way to lose the hard-on. Think of her in that satin teddy.

As soon as the waitress left, Adam raised his burger in a toast, determined to eat his lunch then get the hell out of Dodge. “Here’s to old times.”

“And old friends,” she said with a smile, tapping the edge of her bun against his.

Adam took a bite, then groaned. If he had to suffer through a torturous lunch, at least it was with the best-tasting burger he’d ever eaten. He swallowed, then looked at Mallory, whose eyes were closed in ecstasy as she chewed, and he went perfectly still.

Damn. How did she manage to look so unbelievably sexy eating a freakin’ hamburger? He didn’t know, but he couldn’t deny he’d always found it incredibly arousing that she enjoyed food with such abandon.

After she swallowed, Mallory opened her eyes and grinned. “Wow. I feel like I need a cigarette-and I don’t even smoke. And that’s after just one bite.” She bit into an oversize onion ring and moaned. “Ooooh, baby. That is soooo good.” She reached out her hand. “Taste.”

Adam instantly recalled how she liked to share food. A crystal-clear memory of them, sharing a chocolate ice-cream cone, laughing, licking, sugary tongues dancing, chilled lips touching, slammed into his mind, skimming another layer of heat beneath his skin. After that ice cream, they’d parked on a dark, quiet street and made love in the backseat of his car.

With the memory fresh in his mind, and unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and took a bite of her offering. His lips inadvertently brushed against her fingertips, yet she appeared not to notice.

He wished like hell he hadn’t noticed.

This damn meal was growing more torturous by the minute. And he feared that if it didn’t end soon, she’d realize that he was all but enveloped in a cloud of lust.

While he chewed, he watched her pop the last bit into her mouth. “I’m going to want these bad boys every day,” she said, casting a wistful glance at her plate of onion rings. Then she turned her attention to her shake and took a long draw.

“How is it?” Adam asked, his gaze riveted on the way her full glossy lips surrounded the red-and-white-striped straw. He had to swallow to stifle a groan. When the hell had watching a woman drink become so erotic?

“I can sum it up in one word-ohmigod.”

Adam tasted his shake and nodded in agreement, hoping the icy slide down his throat would help cool his overheated body.

“So what are your plans for your future?” she asked.

Thank God-something to concentrate on other than her lips. And red-hot memories of those lips wrapped around him instead of that straw.

“For my immediate future, travel. I’m leaving the day after tomorrow for my long-awaited trek around Europe.”

“I remember you always wanted to go…” Her voice trailed off and he could clearly see she recalled he’d planned to go the summer after his college graduation. The summer she’d thrown all his plans into disarray. “You’ve never made it over there?”

“Nope. I’ll be gone three months. After that, I’m planning a safari to Africa. Australia, South America and Asia are also on my to-do list. Somewhere in there I’ll have to find a new place to live. My Manhattan lease is up in six months.”

“Any ideas?”

“Not Manhattan. My doctor suggested a hut on a beach somewhere. He recommended Hawaii.” He grinned. “Maybe I’ll move there and open a tiki bar.”

“Sounds…exciting. What about your future career plans?”

“From a financial standpoint I don’t need to decide right away, so I’m still mulling them over.” He took another icy pull of his shake then said, “And now that I’ve spilled all about me, what have you been doing for the past five years?”

“Same as you. Working. Building my client base.”

“You enjoy working in real estate?”

“I do. I like every aspect of it-buyers, sellers, the challenge of matching up the right client with the right house. The housing market on Long Island has almost always been on the upswing, but it’s really hopping right now. I’ve started dealing with some commercial properties, which is a great opportunity for me, and I’m preparing to earn my broker’s license.” After swallowing another bite of onion ring, she added, “Six months ago I bought my first house.”

He could see how pleased she was and he raised his shake in a toast. “Congratulations. I know how much you always wanted your own house. That stability.”

“Still do. I’m settled in, with a mortgage, a backyard, neighbors, block parties, the whole enchilada. It would take a nuclear blast to uproot me.”

“Is your mother still moving around the country?”

“After stints in Miami and Dallas, she moved back here and is playing for the Long Island Philharmonic. She has an apartment in Suffolk County. Who knows how long she’ll stay, but for now she’s content.”

“Glad to know your professional life is going so well.” His glance involuntarily flicked to the manila envelope she’d propped against her seat, and a bolt of pure lust sizzled through him at the thought of those sexy pictures. “Seems like your personal life is, too.”

Something flashed in her eyes. “Yup. Going great. How about you?”

His masculine pride wished he could say, Yeah, women are lined up ten deep outside my apartment, but he wasn’t about to lie to her. Still, now that he had time, that situation was about to change. Especially with his trip to Europe. He was a mere plane ride away from gorgeous women lounging on exotic beaches. Ibiza, the French Riviera. Oooh, yeah.

“Everything’s great. You know, doing the bachelor thing.”

“Anyone special?”

“Nope.”

“Hot date tonight?” she asked in a teasing voice.

“Nope.”

“C’mon. I bet there’re probably women lined up ten deep outside your door.”

He swallowed his laugh at how precisely her words had echoed his thoughts. Right from day one of their friendship it had been almost eerie how they’d so often been on the same wavelength. “Not quite ten deep,” he said with a smile. “My only date tonight is working at the studio to help Nick get caught up on paperwork.”

“Bachelor-man doing paperwork on a Saturday night?” She made an exaggerated show of looking him over. “Unless your character has taken a total dive south, you’re a fairly decent guy. Reasonably attractive. Heterosexual. Financially secure. Just the sort to attract a woman or two. So what’s the problem?”

“No problem. Just taking a night off from the usual bachelor frivolity to help out a friend.” Right. No problem. Except I haven’t been able to think of anyone except you for the past week.

And it suddenly occurred to him that she’d been in his thoughts for a lot longer than the past week. She’d always been there, lingering in the back of his mind, and he’d compared every woman who’d come after her with the standard she’d set. As of yet, no one had surpassed it. If he was brutally honest, no one had even come close.

Shaking off that disturbing realization, he said, “So tell me, how did you and…what’s his name?”

“Greg.”

“How’d you two meet?”

“He’s an attorney. We met at a house closing.”

“How long ago?”

“Eight months.”

“Is it serious?” He congratulated himself on his light tone, which was in such total contrast to the inexplicable tensing of his every muscle while he waited for her reply.

She tapped the corner of her mouth with her napkin, pushed her empty plate to the side, then reached for the manila envelope. “I’ll let you know after he sees these,” she said with a teasing wink.

What the hell kind of answer was that? Surely if they were serious, she’d have just said yes. Yet, he couldn’t see her posing for such sensual photos for a man she didn’t have deep feelings for. Still…she hadn’t said yes, they were serious.

A flicker of something that felt suspiciously like hope flared to life in his chest, a tiny flame that he could neither blow out nor ignore. What was he-insane? He didn’t want her to be available. If she was available, that would totally screw up his travel plans. Again.

Wouldn’t it?

Hell, yeah.

Hell, no.

Why would it? If she was available, they could have a fling. She is not a fling sort of woman, his inner voice said. Totally true. Mallory was a forever sort of woman.

Which would be crappy timing because he was not currently a forever sort of guy. No, sir. Not him. He was footloose, worry free, Bachelor Number One, on his way to Europe for his dream vacation. She craved stability and for the next three months he’d be living out of a suitcase. Hell, in six months he wouldn’t have a place to live. For all he knew, he might very well be running a tiki bar in Hawaii. So yeah, it was good she had a boyfriend. Yup, sure was. So he just needed to put all these crazy thoughts out of his head. Now.

Forcing himself to remain silent so as not to bombard her with more questions about her relationship, Adam ate his last onion ring and watched her look over the proofs, noting the flush that crept up her face. He tried to recall the last time he’d seen a woman blush and realized it was exactly one week ago. While he’d taken Mallory’s pictures.

The urge to reach out and brush his fingers over that enticing wash of color gripped him, and he wrapped his hands around his frosty shake glass to keep from doing so. Unfortunately the chill did nothing to cool the heat nipping at him.

After taking a long, cold, chocolaty sip, he said, “You’re blushing.”

A self-conscious-sounding laugh escaped her. “It’s just kind of embarrassing that you’ve seen me in my lingerie.”

Mallory in her lingerie… Good God, he wasn’t going to survive this. He unobtrusively shifted to lessen the growing discomfort in his Levi’s. “At the risk of sounding crass, which is certainly not my intention, I’ve, um, seen you in less.” And damn it, the image those words brought to mind did nothing to lessen his discomfort.

Her blush deepened. “Right-almost a decade ago. While we were…”

“Sleeping together?” some devil inside him made him say when she seemed at a loss for words.

“As I recall, sleep had little to do with it.”

Touché. Damn, he felt as if he’d backed into a blowtorch. “Very little,” he agreed, his voice tight.

“Well, that was a long time ago. This is different. And in these pictures, I look so…”

“Sexy?”

Her gaze shot up to his. “You think so?”

He mentally shook his head at the genuine questioning confusion in her eyes. “Hell, yes. Don’t you?”

“Well…yeah, I suppose. I’m just not used to seeing myself this way.”

“Believe me, Mallory, you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

She studied the photos for several more seconds, then said, “You did a really good job.”

“Thanks. But it had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the subject matter. I blew up the three I thought were the best into eight-by-tens. My favorite’s the last one.”

She looked at the prints, staring the longest at the last one, then raised her gaze to his. “Why do you like this one the best?”

Because when I took it, I fantasized that you were thinking of me. Remembering me. Us. How good we were together. Because I was remembering you. “I think it really captures you. Your many facets. I like your expression, the contrasts it shows. You look seductive, yet shy. Tempting, playful, yet there’s an air of innocence. I like the way your eyes are looking right into the camera. The way you seem to be saying, ‘I want you more than Hershey’s Kisses’-is that still your favorite candy, by the way?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be forever loyal to my Kisses.”

Eye on the ball, dude-don’t think about kisses. He nodded. “As I was saying, ‘I want you more than Hershey’s Kisses.’ Believe me, it’s a look that any guy would give a lot to inspire.” Me, for example.

The thought ambushed him and he had to clear his throat to locate his voice. “And the way your lips are slightly parted, just enough to issue an invitation, but not too much. You look great in all the pictures, but speaking as a guy, that one is guaranteed to knock his socks off.” It sure as hell knocked off mine.

She looked back down at the print and frowned. “I hope you’re right,” she murmured.

Adam’s eyebrows shot up at her softly spoken words, words that, based on her faraway expression, he wasn’t sure she even realized she’d said. Christ, if one look at that photo of her didn’t give George, or Greg, or whatever the hell his name was, an instant hard-on, the guy needed to check his pulse.

But her murmured words… Was it possible that all wasn’t perfect between her and what’s-his-name? If there was trouble in paradise… He pulled in a slow breath, and even though he fought it, a bit more kindling was tossed onto that internal fire, burning bright within him that-which-suspiciously-felt-like…

Hope.

She glanced at her watch. “I’m afraid I need to get going.” She looked beyond him, over his shoulder, clearly looking for their waitress.

Disappointment washed through him, a fact that annoyed him. It was definitely time for this torturous stroll down memory lane to end. “You can go,” he said. “I’ve got the check.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to. For old times’ sake. Besides, I have to stick around and order something to-go for Nick.”

“All right. Thank you.” She slid toward the edge of the vinyl booth. “Lunch was delicious.”

He rose then patted his stomach. “Sure was.” He nodded toward the envelope. “Let us know which of the proofs you want made into prints.”

“I will.” She stood, looking a bit uncertain, as if she didn’t know whether to shake his hand or kiss his cheek or what. He helped her out by leaning forward and brushing his lips lightly against her smooth cheek. For a brief second, his eyes involuntarily closed. God, she smelled incredible. Like flowers in sunshine. He felt her lips touch his cheek, then she stepped back. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“You, too.” Really nice. Far too nice. Which meant that he needed to let her just walk out the door. But that stupid flame still burned, so instead he found himself saying lightly, “Maybe we can manage not to lose touch this time.”

Instead of smiling and agreeing, a small frown furrowed between her brows. Then she flashed a quick smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Maybe,” she said in a tone that made the word sound more like I don’t think so. “But with all your traveling and the summer being my busiest time…”

Her voice trailed off and he swallowed a sensation that felt like disappointment but was surely really relief-especially as it irrevocably extinguished that ridiculous flame. He knew a kiss-off when he heard one-especially from this particular woman. Obviously he’d misread her and everything was fine between her and the boyfriend.

Really, he was relieved. Given his apparent strong attraction to her, seeing her again wouldn’t be wise.

“I understand,” he said, forcing a smile. “Here’s hoping you sell a bazillion houses.”

“That would be nice. Good luck with all your travels and finding a new career and a new place to live.”

“Thanks.” Unable to stop himself, he said, “And hey, if things don’t work out with George-”

“Greg.”

“Right. Give me a call.” He gave her a jaunty salute and shot her his best lighthearted wink. “I’ll treat you to another bacon cheeseburger.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She turned to go, and even though his inner voice warned him to remain silent, he found himself saying, “Six.”

She turned back, clearly puzzled. “Six? What does that mean?”

“That’s the number of times we made love that afternoon on the boat.”

She said nothing for several long seconds, the silence swelling between them, tense and thick. Then she murmured, “Goodbye, Adam,” and quickly wove her way through the labyrinth of tables.

He watched her walk away, his insides aching with a hollow sense of loss he wished like hell he didn’t feel.

When she reached the door, she glanced back over her shoulder. They stared at each other and he wondered if she could see the desire he suspected lingered in his eyes. Seconds later she exited, then turned the corner and was lost to his sight.

Yeah, she was gone.

Unfortunately, he suspected the memories of her would linger in his mind for a long, long time.