Chapter Ten

Tanner

I feel bad for letting off steam like that, although I have to admit, that's the first time since the divorce that I've felt better for having talked about Sabrina. Sure, the situation with Dean still makes me mad. In fact, just about everything Sabrina does riles me, but I've got a strange a sense of relief, too. It's something I haven't felt for ages… and certainly not something I've experienced when discussing my ex-wife. Zara seems to give me a confidence in myself that I haven't known since I first learned that Sabrina was cheating on me, and even if I didn't already love her, I would now.

Zara turns her attention back to her chicken, and I take a sip of wine, studying her. She looks breathtaking in that dress, with her hair flowing in loose curls over her naked shoulders. When she opened her door and I first caught sight of her, I couldn't believe my eyes. I struggled to speak, although I found my voice again – thank God – when she threatened to change into something different. She thought that what she was wearing was ‘too much', and it was. It was too much for me. But there was no way I wanted her to change. As I said to her, she looked perfect, and I wasn't exaggerating.

"Are you okay?" she asks, breaking me out of my daydream.

"I'm fine. Tell me about you." I pick up my knife and fork, and she tilts her head, like she's thinking about my suggestion.

"There isn't very much to tell. Like I said, I'm from north Vermont. My dad died when I was eighteen, and my mom encouraged me to follow my dreams."

"And how's that going? Are you living the dream?"

She smiles. "Not yet, but I'm getting there." Her eyes connect with mine as she speaks and although my head is telling me not to read too much into that, my heart isn't listening. That look has to mean something, doesn't it? It has to mean I'm part of the dream. Why else would she still be staring at me? And why does it feel like neither of us is breathing?

"What made you decide to become a teacher?" I ask, because one of us needs to say something, and we both need to breathe.

"I don't know," she says as we both get back to our food. "Maybe it was my love of books, or the fact that I like kids. I can't be sure. It's just something I always wanted to do."

I cut a slice of duck, holding it on my fork. "I like kids just as much as the next person, but I wouldn't wanna deal with a classroom full of them."

She laughs, and I join in.

"Speaking of kids," she says. "How do you balance working at the bookstore and parenting Nash when he's with you?"

"I have Katie."

She tilts her head. "Who's Katie?"

"Believe it or not, she used to be my English teacher, when I was in high school."

"And she came to work for you?"

I nod my head. "At the bookstore, yeah. After Sabrina left and we ironed out her stupidity over me having access to Nash, I realized I was gonna need someone I could rely on working full-time at the store. I'd had a few part-timers over the years, but I wanted someone who could open and close the store, if necessary, and who I could abandon at the drop of a hat, if Nash needed me."

"Did you ask Katie to join you?"

"No. I advertised, and she applied. She'd given up teaching years ago to nurse her husband, but didn't want to go back into it after his death."

"You didn't worry about employing your old teacher?"

"Not in the slightest. We get along really well." I smile. "She's the one who told me to break with my usual routine and contrive a visit to the school this afternoon. I didn't like using Nash in that way, but I didn't want to wait until Friday to see you again."

Her eyes sparkle as she smiles at me. "Do you regret it?" she asks.

"Not in the slightest."

Her smile widens, and although she's blushing, it suits her. It makes me want to kiss her more than ever.

She looks up, startled by something behind me, and her frown returns, her face paling at the same time. I turn, surprised by her reaction, and see Anita Knox coming into the restaurant, accompanied by a man I've never seen before. He's young… probably closer to Zara's age than mine, and as they make their way to their table, he rests his hand in the small of Anita's back, in a very familiar way. Whoever this guy is, he's not Anita's husband. Angus Knox is at least forty-five years old and runs his business out of Boston. Still, I guess while the cat's away…

I return my attention to Zara, to find she's still frowning, and I put down my fork and reach for her hand. Her fingers feel a little cold, and I hold on to them, brushing my thumb over her knuckles.

"Is something wrong?" I ask.

"No. Except that woman who just came in might be a problem."

"Who for?"

"Me."

I hold her hand a little tighter. "How?"

"Her son is in my class, and he's such a bully. He thinks he knows everything and even after one day, I'm afraid I have to say, I can't bring myself to like him. As for his mother…" She rolls her eyes. "One of my colleagues said she was pushy, but I think it's more than that. I think her son gets his bullying attitude directly from her."

"It wouldn't surprise me. I went to school with her."

She pulls her hand from mine, clamping it over her mouth, that blush returning to her cheeks, although for an entirely different reason.

"Oh, God," she mutters, letting her hand fall into her lap. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize she was a friend of yours. It's so…"

"She's not a friend of mine," I say, putting her out of her misery. "She's a friend of Sabrina's. It was Anita that my ex-wife went to stay with when she left, and there's a strong feeling of mutual dislike between the two of us, believe me."

"Oh, thank heavens for that."

I chuckle, and Zara joins in, both of us picking up our silverware again, although I'd far rather hold her hand. Failing that, I lean in a little closer.

"I hate to gossip, but that man she's with…"

"What about him?" Zara says, glancing over my shoulder toward where Anita and her young man are seated.

"He's not her husband."

"Oh. They're… um… they're holding hands and…" Her eyes widen. "He just kissed her."

"Presumably in a way that was more intimate than friendly?"

"You could say that."

I shake my head. "She and Sabrina are like two peas in a pod."

Zara nods, and I wonder if she's getting bored with hearing about my ex. Sabrina's filled our conversation tonight, and although I don't want to have any secrets from Zara, I think we should probably talk about something else.

"You never told me how long you and your wife were together?" she says, surprising me.

"Do you really wanna talk about this?" I ask, and she shrugs.

"I want to know everything about you. As long as you're happy to tell me."

When she puts it like that… "I'm more than happy, and the answer to your question is sixteen years. We started dating when we were fifteen."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. To be honest, I think that's what made it so hard to understand how she could do what she did. She took all those years we'd had together and threw them away for the sake of sex."

"Not love?" Zara says, looking confused.

"No. She told me she didn't love Mitch or Reuben, and even if she's never confirmed there was anyone else, other than them, I have to assume the same thing would have applied."

"But she still slept with them?"

"Frequently, from what I could gather."

Zara shakes her head. "I can't imagine making love with someone I didn't love," she says. We haven't gotten around to discussing her past in any great detail, but I wonder if that's her way of telling me something, without telling me anything at all. Does that mean she's been in love before? I couldn't complain if she had. I've never denied having loved Sabrina at the beginning… before it all went wrong. "Don't you agree?" she says.

"Oddly enough, I do."

"Why ‘oddly enough'?"

"Because I know a lot of people say it's different for men. They say we find it easier to separate sex and emotions."

"But you don't agree with that?"

"I used to, but I don't anymore."

"Because of what Sabrina did?"

"No." Because of you.

She stares at me, then lowers her gaze. "Do you think Sabrina loved you at the beginning?" she asks. "Regardless of what followed?"

"Yes, I do. But sometimes I wonder if that's just wishful thinking."

Zara raises her head again, her eyes fixed on mine. "It's not," she whispers. "I'm sure it's not."

I smile and take her hand in mine. "Either way, that's enough for tonight. No more ex-wives. Okay?"

She nods her head, and I glance down at my plate. I've eaten more than enough, and it seems Zara has too.

"I feel like all I've done is talk about myself," I say.

"I know, but like I said, I want to get to know you."

"And when am I gonna be allowed to get to know you?"

"You already do."

"I'm sure there must be more to you than you've told me."

"Not much. I could elaborate on my father's death, but I don't like talking about that, and as for my childhood, it was lived in a tiny town of around two hundred inhabitants. If you think it's quiet here…" She lets her voice fade, smiling.

"Were you happy?"

"Very, but I wouldn't say it was exciting."

The waiter appears beside us, and we lean away from each other so he can remove our plates.

"Can I get you anything else?" he asks, and I turn to Zara, raising my eyebrows.

"No, thanks," she says.

"You don't want coffee?" She shakes her head and I wonder if that's because she's thinking we can have it at her place. I hope so, and I look up at the waiter. "In that case, can you bring the check?"

He nods and disappears.

"I've really enjoyed myself this evening," Zara says and I focus on her again, smiling.

"So have I." I reach for her hand. "Would you like to do it again?"

She nods her head. "Yes, I would."

My heart feels so light, I'm sure it would float away, if it wasn't encased in my chest, and for a moment or two, we just stare at each other, until the waiter comes back with the check.

I hand him my credit card, but rather than going away again, he's obviously anticipated my move, and brought the payment machine with him, inserting my card for me. For a second, I can't remember the PIN, even though I use it all the time. My head is too full of Zara, and I have to look away and concentrate to remember the four digits and input them into the keypad.

The waiter stands, looking awkward, until the machine spews forth a receipt, and then he thanks us, and finally leaves.

Zara pulls her hand from mine, getting to her feet, and I copy her, waiting until she's walked past me, and then I follow close behind. Her dress fits her like a glove, the skirt swishing with the sway of her hips, and I'm mesmerized, although I notice her back and shoulders stiffen as we pass the table where Anita's sitting with her young man. I don't acknowledge Sabrina's friend, and she ignores me just as successfully, and before I know it, we're at the front door, which Archer holds open.

"Hope you enjoyed your meal," he says with a smile.

"We certainly did." I smile back, and join Zara on the sidewalk, immediately struck by how cold it is compared to when we arrived.

I might love her dress, and the way it looks on her, but she must be freezing, and I shrug off my jacket, stepping behind her to place it around her shoulders. She looks up into my eyes.

"Thank you."

"That's okay."

"I should have brought a coat."

I take her hand in mine and we start the brief walk back to her place. "That's the problem with this time of the year. The days are still quite warm, but once the sun goes down, it cools off real fast."

She looks up at me. "I know, but I love the fall, don't you?"

"I do, although I think winter's my favorite time of the year."

She nods her head. "Hmm… I like winter, too."

"Is that because you don't like the heat of summer, or…"

"I'd rather be too cold than too hot," she says, before I can finish my question, and I smile down at her.

"I'm the same."

"I always figure I can put more clothes on if I need to, but there's a limit to what I can take off."

"Is there?" I say, and she bites her bottom lip.

"Well… eventually you get down to nothing, and then you've got nowhere else to go."

I can see the logic, but I can't think straight enough to discuss it any more. I'm picturing Zara getting down to nothing… and joining her there.

She stops walking and I realize we've reached her house. That was quick. Too quick, and she leads me up the footpath to her front door.

"Thank you for tonight," she says, turning to face me.

"I should be the one thanking you." She smiles. "Are you sure you haven't been put off by my story?"

"Not at all."

I step closer, looking down at her. "Forgive me, but… I really wanna kiss you."

She doesn't say a word, but she tilts her head back and closes her eyes. I release her hand, putting mine in the small of her back and pulling her against me as I lower my head and brush my lips over hers. The moment our lips touch, she comes alive, our tongues colliding. She raises her arms, my jacket falling to the floor, as she puts her hands on my shoulders, clinging to me. Her breasts heave into my chest and I let my hands roam over her hips. She moans into my mouth, and I raise my left hand, cupping her cheek, then push my fingers back through her silky hair as I deepen the kiss. This is so much more than I'd hoped for, but I can't get enough of her. I pull back to ask if I can come inside, and smile when I see the flush on her cheeks. Her lips are slightly swollen too, and there's a fire in her eyes that speaks of the same burning desire that's currently eating me up. I open my mouth to beg for more, but she beats me to it.

"Thanks again for such a special evening," she says, bending to retrieve my jacket and handing it to me. I take it, feeling confused, and then I watch while she pulls her key from her purse and looks up at me again. "Goodnight, Tanner."

"Um… goodnight."

She opens the door and disappears inside, and while I feel a little dismissed, I still can't help smiling. I was being kinda presumptuous, expecting her to invite me in on our first date. That kiss was more than I expected… and she's made it clear she wants to see me again, so all in all, I think I can say tonight was a success.

An enormous success.

I turn, throwing my jacket over my shoulder. I'm oblivious to the cold now. My body's on fire, and I walk home at a gentle pace, getting back in about five minutes.

I let myself into my apartment and sit on the couch, leaving my jacket beside me, but pulling my phone from the inside pocket. I look up Zara's details and, with a smile on my face, send her a text message.

— Hi. I just wanted to thank you for the perfect end to a lovely evening. T

I press send, put my phone on the table, and lean back, staring up at the ceiling.

Does it get any better than this? Okay, so I could be at Zara's place, or she could be here. We could still be kissing, or touching… or taking things even further than that. But something tells me we'll get there fairly soon, and in the meantime, where we are now is just fine with me.

My phone beeps, taking me by surprise, and I sit up, grabbing it from the table, and smiling when I read…

— I should be the one thanking you. Goodnight. Sleep well. Z xx

I stare at the screen, my smile widening. She's put two kisses at the end of her message, and although I don't know what she thinks she's got to thank me for, I don't care. I just know I can't let it go…

— You too. T xx

There. That feels better.

"How was dinner?" Katie asks before she's even removed her coat.

"It was great, thanks."

"The first of many?"

I tilt my head. "She said she wanted to see me again, so…"

"So, you're seeing her again tonight?"

"Actually…" I fall silent and she steps closer, pulling off her jacket and standing in front of me, looking puzzled.

"Actually, what?"

"We didn't make any firm arrangements."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

It's not like we didn't have our chances. We spent hours talking last night, then I walked her home and kissed her on her doorstep. I sent her that message when I got back to my place. Not only that, but I contacted her this morning, too. The moment I woke, I had to know she was okay. She wasn't beside me, so I texted her again, and she came back and told me she was fine, and she'd slept really well. I could have asked her to have dinner with me then… except I was running late. I was also preoccupied, because Zara had told me she was still in bed, and that thought was doing crazy things to my head… and my cock.

"I guess you could meet Nash from school again," Katie says, interrupting my train of thought.

"No. I don't feel comfortable using him to communicate with her."

She shrugs. "Okay. Call her."

"She'll be in class all day."

She rolls her eyes. "Are you trying to be difficult?"

"No. I'm just trying to work out what to do."

"Why don't you go over to the school at the end of the day and suggest a picnic down by the creek?"

"A picnic?"

"Why not? The weather's usually not too bad in the evenings, and it's romantic down there."

"Yeah, I guess it is, and if you can mind the store for a while, I could go to the deli and get a few things for us to eat."

"Now you're really taking liberties," she says with a smile.

I've been undecided about coming to the school ever since Katie suggested it, and I almost changed my mind about the whole picnic thing while I was on my way to the delicatessen, wondering if I should just call her this evening instead. I saw it through in the end, though, and my refrigerator is groaning with cold meats, cheeses, pickles and salads.

"You're gonna be late, if you're not careful," Katie said, checking her watch.

"I know, but…"

"But nothing. You need to stop worrying."

"What if she thinks I'm hassling her?"

"She won't. Now get going, will you?"

She practically pushed me out the door, and I gave her a wink as I left, then crossed the street, my steps feeling lighter already. That's what Zara does to me… among other things.

Turning into Mulberry Lane, I spot a bright yellow Corvette, which has been parked really badly, and I smile to myself. I have a philosophy about people and parking, which is that if you can't park a car, you shouldn't be driving it, and that definitely applies in this instance. Still, I've got more important things to think about… like Zara, and avoiding being seen by Sabrina. The last thing I need is her questioning my presence, so I make my way to the corner of the schoolyard, where there's a group of moms, some of whom have strollers, and pre-school-age kids, and I do my best to hide behind them.

The bell rings, but it always takes a few minutes for anyone to emerge, and I glance around just as the door of the Corvette opens and a man steps out.

"Jesus," I mutter under my breath. It's Dean, and he strolls over, catching the eye of most of the young women in the schoolyard. He clearly knows it, too, and is positively preening himself, lapping up their attention. A couple of them even wander over to him and start a conversation, and while his presence makes me angry, at least he's too preoccupied to notice me.

The school door opens and a few of the older kids come out, making for the gate. They're followed by some younger ones, and within seconds, I spot Zara. She's wearing gray pants today, with a pale blue blouse, her hair tied up in a ponytail, and she's holding hands with Addison, the two of them talking. Addy seems interested in something Zara's saying, and that's when I notice Laurel. I hadn't seen her until now, but she steps up and starts talking to Zara, Addy switching hands, and holding her mom's now.

For a moment, I'm mesmerized by the sight of Zara, and I wish everyone else would disappear, so we could be alone, but then I notice Nash. He's just come out and is talking to that same little girl he was with yesterday. She's laughing about something, and he's waving his hands, like he's telling a story, which she finds amusing. It's cute, and I watch them for a second, until Dean comes over and interrupts.

I can't hear what he's saying, but Nash glares up at him, and then turns to his friend, whispering something, before he follows Dean from the schoolyard. They don't hold hands, and Dean doesn't wait when he gets to the gate. He just crosses the street and gets into his car, leaving Nash to navigate the traffic by himself. I take a step forward, fear rising in me. There are cars everywhere. It's busy, and he's only eight. Maybe I'm over-protective, but he's my son, and I remember only too well how he nearly walked out into the street yesterday, and would have done if I hadn't stopped him. Part of me wants to march over to Dean and tell him how irresponsible he's being, and then take Nash home myself. I'm about to move forward when Nash steps off the sidewalk and I heave out a sigh of relief as he makes it safely to the other side and climbs into the passenger seat of Dean's car.

I'm angry that Sabrina left her boyfriend to do her job, rather than asking me. She knows I'd have collected Nash, if she'd asked, and I pull out my phone to call her. She needs to realize she can't pull stunts like this… except the schoolyard isn't the right place to have that conversation, and I probably need to calm down a little first. If I don't, I'll say something I regret. I know I will.

I put back my phone and turn my attention to Zara. Laurel and Addy have gone, and I feel my pounding heartbeat quell as she smiles down at a little girl with dark brown hair, and says something before her mom comes over and takes her away.

There are still a few little ones standing close by, but the coast seems fairly clear and I wander over, my hands buried in my pockets. She notices me when I'm still a way off, and tilts her head, her brow furrowing, even as a smile touches at her lips.

"I didn't expect to see you here," she says. "If you came to collect Nash, he's already gone. I just saw him leave."

"I know. With Sabrina's boyfriend."

"Oh. Can I assume you're not happy about that?"

"You can. But how did you know?"

"The look in your eyes."

She knows me so well already. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she says with a smile. "But if you're not here to collect Nash…"

"I'm here to see you." Her smile widens, and her cheeks redden in the most charming of blushes. "I wondered if you'd like to come out with me again tonight… unless you're busy, of course."

"No, I'm not busy, and I'd love to see you again tonight."

"Fabulous. In that case, I thought we might have a picnic down by the creek?"

"That sounds lovely." She reaches out, putting her hand on my arm, and I do my best not to react to the feeling of her skin against mine… not when we're in a schoolyard, surrounded by children. "I'm glad you're here," she says. "I wanted to apologize."

"What on earth for?"

"For sending you away so abruptly last night. I was gonna say something in our text messages, but I didn't want you to misunderstand."

"There's nothing to apologize for, either in person or by text. It was our first date and…"

"It was nothing to do with that," she says, interrupting me. "I wanted to invite you in, and I was going to, but I remembered how much of a mess my house is. I'm still unpacking, you see. My living room's a mess, and I hadn't been able to decide what to wear to work yesterday, or when I came out with you last night, so there were clothes scattered all over my…" She stops talking abruptly and bites on her bottom lip.

It doesn't take a genius to work out that she was either going to say ‘bed', or ‘bedroom' at the end of that sentence, and that thought makes me smile.

"You assumed I'd give a damn about how tidy your house was?" I shake my head, moving even closer and lowering my voice. "That was the last thing on my mind." She gazes up at me and sighs out a breath. "I wanna kiss you so damn hard," I whisper, unable to help myself.

Her breath hitches, and she blinks up at me. "Not here. Not now."

I smile down at her. "Later, then?" She nods. "I'll pick you up at six-thirty."

She nods again, and I step away, missing her already.

The walk back to the bookstore takes no time at all, and while I'm relieved by how well that went, I'm still mad about Dean's presence, and the way he failed to take proper care of Nash. I guess it's something I'll have to raise with Sabrina, but I know I'll have to time it right.

I need to be calm when I talk to her… and preferably not preoccupied with Zara's admission that she wanted to invite me in last night.

Or where that might have taken us…

I push open the door, surprised to find there are no customers in the store. That's unusual for this time of day, and I wander to the cash desk, leaning over it, and resting on my elbows.

"What happened? Where did everyone go?" I ask, and Katie smiles.

"You just missed the rush."

"That's good." She narrows her eyes, although she's smiling, and she leans back against the wall behind her.

"So? How did it go?"

"Zara liked the idea of the picnic."

"Perfect." She nods her head. "Now we just have to think of somewhere you can take her for your third date."

"I was thinking of inviting her to my place, or suggesting I could go to hers."

She grins, then chuckles. "That's always an option."

I stand up straight. "Who made you the dating guru of Hart's Creek, by the way?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she says, tapping the side of her nose, as she pushes herself off of the wall and walks toward the back of the store to fix us a coffee… I hope.

I turn off the shower, ignoring my erection. It seems to be a fairly permanent feature these days. I get aroused every time I think about Zara, and I think about her practically every second of the day, so I'm getting used to having a hard on. For now, I wrap a towel around my hips, opening the bathroom door, and stepping out into the living room before I make my way up the stairs to the bedroom.

It's not sunny this evening, but it's humid, and I decide on dark blue jeans and a white casual shirt, leaving it untucked, because while I may be used to my permanent state of arousal, I don't want to embarrass Zara.

Once I'm ready, I pack all the things I bought earlier into my backpack, adding a bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and two glasses, which I place carefully in the top of the bag, so they don't break. Then I gather my phone and keys, and go downstairs, letting myself out through the back door.

It only takes a matter of minutes to walk to Zara's house, and I ring the doorbell, feeling a lot less nervous than I did last night. Now, I just can't wait to see her, and the moment she opens the door, I have to smile.

"You look stunning," I say, letting my eyes wander over her dress. It's white, with a deep red floral print, a fitted top, narrow straps, and a full skirt, which finishes just below her knees.

"Thank you," she says, blushing slightly, and joins me on the doorstep. She's carrying a cardigan, with her purse draped over her shoulder, and she pulls the door closed behind her, taking my hand the moment I offer it.

"I like your hair loose," I say, studying it as we get out onto the sidewalk.

She looks up at me. "I wear it this way most of the time."

"Really? Apart from last night, I think I've only seen you with it tied up in some way."

"That's because it's more practical to keep it out of the way when I'm teaching."

"And when you're staring into bookstore windows, waiting to be knocked to the ground by complete strangers?" I say and she smiles.

"I didn't go out with that in mind. I'd been unpacking… or contemplating unpacking. It seemed like a good idea to put my hair up, and I didn't take it down before I left the house."

"I see."

She tilts her head at me. "But now I know how you like it…" she says, and I smile, leaning in to kiss her forehead.

My cock presses hard against my zipper, and I take a breath. If we're gonna make it through the evening, I need to pace myself.

"How was your day?" I ask, hoping a more neutral subject might help.

"Okay. Except for Mrs. Knox."

I stop walking, pulling her back with me, and look down into her upturned face. "Why? What did she do?"

"After you left this afternoon, she came over and made a point of telling me she'd seen us together at the restaurant last night."

"So?"

"I thought that, but I didn't say anything, and then she told me the man she'd been with was an old family friend."

"My ass," I say and she laughs.

"I know. I can't think of any old family friends I'd kiss like that."

"I'm pleased to hear it," I whisper. Her smile lights up her face and I cup my hand around her cheek and lean in, brushing my lips just gently across hers. It would be easy to take this further… to deepen the kiss, and pull her body against mine, but we've got an entire evening ahead of us, and I'm supposed to be pacing myself.

I pull back and gaze down into her eyes, letting out a long breath as we start walking again. "Aside from Anita Knox, how was your day?"

"Like I say, it was okay, although I was late getting home. I had to collect some things for the children to make collages tomorrow. Luckily, Russ stayed and helped, or I think I'd still be gathering leaves and twigs."

"Who's Russ?" I ask, a shiver running down my spine.

"He's one of the teachers at the school. He started yesterday, like me, although he teaches fourth grade."

"I see. Should I be jealous?" It doesn't matter whether I should or not. I am.

She chuckles. "Of teaching fourth grade? I don't think so."

I shake my head. "That wasn't what I meant. I was asking if I should be jealous of him… and you."

"Of course not," she says, losing her smile in an instant. "I'll be honest and admit I thought he was hitting on me, but I got that wrong. He's engaged, and…"

"You think people don't cheat, just because they're in a relationship?" I say, my voice sounding a lot harsher than I'd have wanted. Zara stops, pulling her hand from mine, and I turn to face her, regretting my words already. "I'm sorry. I didn't…"

"I know people cheat," she says, ignoring my apology. "I'd get it, even if I hadn't heard your story. But you can't compare everyone you meet with Sabrina. I got it wrong with Russ. He's very happy with his fiancée and I misunderstood the situation."

I step closer, taking her hand again. "I didn't mean to snap at you, and I apologize for making comparisons." She nods her head, but it's still not enough. "I'll try harder to leave the past behind. I promise."

"And will you try harder not to feel jealous?"

"I'll do my best."

She pulls her hand from mine, which doesn't feel great, until she brings it up and rests it on my chest. "Okay. Let's just forget about it, shall we?"

I put my hand over hers and lean in, kissing her a little harder this time, and taking a full minute before I pull back. She's slightly breathless, but so am I, and we gaze at each other for a second or two.

"I'm sorry. I—"

"I thought we were gonna forget about it," she says, smiling, and I have to smile back before we turn and continue on our way.

I'm planning on walking to the creek via a track between the trees behind the gym, and the quickest way to get there is to go along the back of the shops.

The wind has picked up a little, and it catches Zara's hair as we turn behind Dawson's bar. She pushes it out of the way, just as a drop of rain lands on my face, followed by another… and another. "That's rain, isn't it?" she says.

"Yeah." We stop walking and look at each other for a second. "Shall we move this picnic to my place?" I suggest. "It's closer than yours, and I don't wanna sit in the rain."

"Neither do I."

I pick up the pace and walk her straight to my apartment, where I unlock the door just as the heavens open, letting her in ahead of me. She pauses, waiting for me to close us in, and I take her hand, leading her to the door on the left, which I open, flicking on the lights, as Zara looks up the stairs.

"After you," I say with a smile, and she climbs ahead of me, which may have been a mistake on my part, because it's impossible not to admire the way her dress clings to the contours of her hips and ass. My permanent state of arousal becomes a painful one by the time we reach the top step, where Zara moves aside and I quickly turn on the side lamps before returning to her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

I take her cardigan, placing it over the back of the chair, and she puts her purse on top.

"Can I get you a glass of wine?" I ask.

"Yes, please." I step away, pulling the backpack from my shoulder and heading for the kitchen, just as she says, "It's lovely up here. Did your wife design it?"

"No. She never liked this place and refused to do anything with it. After she left, I repainted every room."

"To eradicate her?" she says with a slight smile.

"No. To give myself something to do."

I take the wine from the backpack, pouring some out, but leave everything else for now, and return to Zara, handing her a glass. We clink them together and take a sip, her lips twisting upward into a smile.

"This isn't exactly what we had in mind for the evening, is it?" she says.

"No. But I'm sure we can still make something of it." Her smile widens and I hand her my glass. "You sit down. I'll fetch our picnic, and we'll eat in here."

She does as I say, and I return to the kitchen, offloading all the food from the bag and carrying it through to the living room, where I set it out on the coffee table. She's already placed our wine glasses there too, and I add plates and silverware.

"This is lovely," she says, turning to me, as I sit beside her on the couch.

"Yeah… it is."

I lean in, all thoughts of food forgotten, my lips dusting over hers. She sighs in to me and I let my tongue delve, finding hers in a gentle caress. She moves nearer, and I place my right hand on her hip, cupping her cheek with the other as I tilt my head and deepen the kiss. As she arches her back in to me, I move my right hand down over the swell of her ass to the outside of her thigh and she lifts that leg across mine. It's a sexy move, and it requires a response. I just hope I don't screw this up, and I move my hand further down beneath her skirt, my fingers meeting the bare flesh of her toned thigh. She gasps, her tongue darting deeper into my mouth, which I guess means she likes what I'm doing.

I need to see more, and without breaking the kiss, I tip her onto her back, bringing my hand around the front of her dress so I can pull it up. The movement seems to startle Zara, who grabs my wrist, halting me, and I lean up, staring down at her.

"Sorry. Was that too much?"

She shakes her head, which is confusing. "It's not that. It's just…" Her voice fades, but I'm in agony here… in more ways than one.

"Just what, baby? Tell me?"

"I—I've never done anything like this before."

I feel a little light-headed, and I drop to my elbows, studying her perfect face. "This might sound like an odd question, given where we are, and what we've been doing, but do you mind if I ask how old you are?"

She smiles. "I'm twenty-four."

"And you've never done anything before? Nothing at all?"

"No," she says, tipping her head slightly to her right. "Do you mind if I ask how old you are?"

"Thirty-four."

"And is that a problem for you?" she asks. "My extreme youth and inexperience, I mean?"

There's a slight smirk on her lips, and I have to smile as I close the gap and kiss her, just gently. "What do you think?" I say, letting my lips linger for a second or two before I raise myself above her. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for, Zara."

"The problem is, when you kiss me like that, I really want to be ready, but…"

"Hey… it's okay. I'll wait."

She sighs. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Is that something you've done before… wait for someone, I mean?"

I lower myself to my elbows again, caressing her cheek with my fingertips. "I've only ever been with Sabrina, and yeah, we waited."

"You did? Why?"

"Because, like I said, we were fifteen when we started dating."

She nods her head. "Oh, so you waited for it to be legal?"

"We did."

"And was that the only reason?"

"Yeah."

"Was it a mutual decision?" she asks, and I kiss her, because I need to keep it real. I need to remind myself of where I am now, not where I was then, when Sabrina and I had been together for a couple of months and she used to tease me, to goad me into fucking her, even though she hadn't turned sixteen yet. I had – just – but that didn't make it right, no matter what she said, or did.

"No, it was my decision," I say, eventually. "And we need to stop talking about her."

"Sorry. That was my fault. Again."

"It's okay. I don't mind answering your questions, and I don't wanna have any secrets from you."

"I don't have any secrets to keep." We both chuckle, our bodies shaking, and I gaze into her eyes. "Are you sure you don't mind waiting?" she asks, biting on her bottom lip.

"Positive." I free it with my thumb as I lean closer, our tongues meeting and flickering for a while before our lips touch, and I feel her arms come up around my neck, her fingers twisting into my hair. "It's gonna be such sweet torture," I whisper. "But you'll be worth it."

"I hope so."

"Oh… I know so."

I kiss her again, harder and deeper than before, and she knots her fingers in my hair, pulling me down. If I'm going to wait, I can't keep doing this for too long, and after a couple of minutes, I have to stop.

"Is there a reason?" I ask, pulling back and catching my breath.

"A reason for what?"

"Why you've never done anything like this before?"

She blushes slightly and lets out a sigh, releasing my hair. "There are two."

"Oh? What are they?"

"First, I've never met anyone I wanted to do anything with," she says, looking right into my eyes.

I smile and kiss the tip of her nose. "And second?"

"Timing… or time, I suppose."

"Time?"

"Yes. Not having enough of it." She moves her hands, letting them rest on my shoulders. "College is where most people get their first experience of sex and relationships, isn't it? Those who don't marry their high school sweethearts, anyway." She smiles up at me, and I have to smile back. I love her easy acceptance of my past. It makes things so much simpler between us, which has got to be good, considering how difficult Sabrina can be.

"Probably… although it obviously didn't work out that way for you," I say, and she shakes her head.

"No. My father died during my first semester, and even though he had life insurance, they took a while to pay out because he'd died at work, and there were all kinds of complications to do with that." She waves her hand, like she's dismissing those difficulties, although they must have been hard at the time.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't want to give up my studies, so I got a part-time job to help my mom. It was only supposed to be until the insurance money came through, but I enjoyed it, so I kept on doing it all the way through college."

"Where did you work?" I ask, and she smiles.

"You won't believe this, but I got a job in a bookstore."

I laugh, throwing my head back. "We have even more in common than I thought."

"We do," she says, her smile widening.

"And you enjoyed working there?"

"I loved it. I was surrounded by books, and it let me broaden my horizons. That's where I first developed a taste for…" She stops talking, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

"A taste for what?"

"Nothing."

"No. You were gonna tell me what you developed a taste for… and we said no secrets, remember?"

She looks into my eyes. "Okay. If you must know, it's where I developed a taste for romance novels."

"You like romance novels?" I say with a smile.

"Yes. I started off with historical ones, and… and progressed from there."

"I see. And what's your favorite genre now?"

"I've tried all sorts, but at the moment, I'm reading one about a cowboy."

"A Cowboy? Even though that's about as far removed from your life as you can get?"

"None of them are realistic, Tanner. I don't know any disreputable dukes, or ruthless billionaires, either… and my knowledge of playboy CEOs is pretty limited. Life isn't anything like it is between the covers of a romance novel."

"Okay. But what made you want to read about cowboys?"

"The one I'm reading now is part of a series, and if I'm being honest, I was originally swayed by the cover of book one."

"Oh? What did it look like?"

"I'm sure you've seen similar before… a muscular man, in jeans and a t-shirt, with a cowboy hat on. Nothing out of the ordinary as far as romance novels go, and just as unrealistic as the contents."

I nod my head, picturing the type of book, of which we stock several… although a lot of them don't bother with the t-shirt.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with a bit of escapism… although I'm not sure how or why discovering that would have stopped you from dating."

"It didn't. The problem was, I never had a moment to call my own. Between studying, working and helping my mom, there was no time for boyfriends."

"What about at high school? There must have been someone back then. Surely?"

She shakes her head. "The boys in high school always seemed so immature."

I lean down so my lips are just touching hers. "At least you can't accuse me of that."

"No."

"Do you think we should sit up and eat this picnic?" Before I'm tempted to kiss you again.

"I guess. But I kinda like lying here on your couch."

"I kinda like you lying on my couch, too." I kiss her forehead, just to be safe, and then kneel up, pulling down my shirt, to hide my erection. She notices, her teeth nipping at her bottom lip, but she doesn't comment, and I help her sit before joining her. "Of course, now you know where I live, you can come over any time you like," I say, leaning in to her.

She turns her head. "You mean that?"

"Of course."

"So, you wouldn't mind if I came by after work tomorrow? It probably won't be until around six or six-thirty, by the time I've got home, showered, changed my clothes, done the laundry, and caught up with my schoolwork, but…"

I can't help grinning. "Hey… I don't mind when you come over."

She nods her head and rests against me, waiting until I put my arm around her before she says, "Thank you, Tanner."

"What for?"

She looks up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "For giving me a fantastic excuse not to finish unpacking my books."

"Why, you…"

I push her back down on the couch, drowning her squeals and giggles with a long and lingering kiss.