reason.â
He caught something subtle in her tone of voice. âStacy, how many times have you done this?â
âDone what?â She said. She ducked her head so that the front-porch light couldnât give away any secrets.
âStarted an affair like this.â
Her chin jerked up pugnaciously. âThatâs none of yourââ
âIt is if Iâm supposed to be your lover!â
âShh!â she hissed. They both looked around the street. Two lights on the house directly across from hers had gone dark. Someone had turned off their water sprinkler. Cicadas stopped for a moment,poised for eavesdropping, and then their annoying chorus rose.
âAll right, Iâm a little inexperienced,â she said. âAnd thatâs all I want to say about it.â
âNo, you gotta tell me everything. Otherwise I wonât do it. At all.â
There. He had found his bargaining chip. She wanted him. Really wanted him. He sure would like to know why.
âWhy me, Stacy?â
âI thought all men were happy to have sex. With any woman.â
âAll men are not like that.â
âYou seem to be.â
Adam opened up, ready to launch into his defense. Then he sat down on the porch swing.
âAll right, maybe a little. But Iâm a man with strong appetites. And Iâve changed a lot since I was in my twenties. I like women. I wonât give you any argument about that.â
âAm I the kind of woman youâd want?â
A momentary flicker of insecurity crossed her face. He stretched his arms to either side. His shirt collar seemed quite comfortable. In fact, Adam was feeling pretty good right about now.
âYouâre easy on the eyes, easy to talk to. Iâd say yeah, sure.â
She put her hands on her hips. âOkay then, youâve got something I wantâsex. And Iâve gotsomething you wantâhousekeeping. And I think itâs a fair trade.â
âIâd still feel better if this was a cash transaction.â
Â
A T THAT moment, Stacy would have liked nothing better than for the ground to collapse into a sink-hole the size of some of those she had read about in newspapers. That or perhaps a meteorite clunking her on the head.
âForget I asked.â
âStacy, I didnât mean it the way it sounded. Itâs just youâre beautiful and thereâs gotta be men up here in Deerhorn whoâd be happy toââ
âI said forget it,â she said, marching up the steps to her house. This was too humiliating.
âItâs just youâre far too pretty and far too nice to have toâ¦hey, donât run away, we should talk about this.â
She whirled and nearly shoved him off the porch. âForget it.â
âItâs just that the way your proposal came out sounded so cold-blooded and professional.â
âOkay, so Iâm clumsy at it.â
He steadied her with a firm grip on her arms. He looked her up. And down. She followed his gazeâ¦and buttoned her top button over the froth of cotton at her breasts.
âCan we please start over?â he asked.
âI think we should simply say good night.â
She shoved her hand to the bottom of her purse, engaging her keys in a game of keep away. She could nearly hear a metallic giggle each time her house key wriggled free of her grasp. Adam leaned against the doorjamb.
âStacy, can we talk?â
âNothing to talk about,â she mumbled into her front door. The fight had gone out of her. She had humiliated herself. And she hadnât even told him about all the things she wanted.
Were the normal experiences of everyday life really so out of reach for her? Had the eight years of caring for her father really put her so behind everyone else in depth of living that she could never catch up? Would she have to talk to the librarian?
He stepped behind her, so close his breath caressed the exposed skin where her
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