Lucy froze, the cupcake pan in one gloved hand. “She said sure?”

“She knows quality when she sees it. We’ve got steak? When did we get steak?”

Lucy put the pan down and slid another unbaked one in the oven. “Tina brought it,” she said, easing the oven door shut. “And her cook made stuffed potatoes, too.”

“You know, I like your sister a lot.” Zack took the steaks out and started opening cupboards, looking for a pan.

Lucy’s mouth dropped open. “You do? You really like Tina?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s great.”

Lucy looked at him closely to see if he was being sarcastic.

He wasn’t.

“What kind of pan do you cook steaks in?” he asked, his head in one of the bottom cupboards.

Lucy gave up and went to find the broiler.


ON FRIDAY MORNING, Anthony came by with bad news. He stood in the living room and watched Zack mediate a truce among the dogs, and then he dropped his bomb.

“We’ve made the paper, but we’re not on the front page. Another plant closing, more graft at city hall, and storm warnings for a major snowfall headed this way, but not us. We’re on page two. The guy at the paper said he could have done better it we’d actually caught somebody, but just the bonds alone weren’t very interesting.”

Zack stood and left the dogs to stare suspiciously at each other. “Oh, come on, we’ve had two bombs here.”

Anthony shook his head. “I tried that. Both already reported. Yesterday’s news.”

“Hell, they made the front page.”

“Yes, well, if there’d been a bomb in the box, this would have, too.”

Zack sank down onto a chair arm. “So all we can hope for is that John Bradley will read the paper all the way through. Great.” He looked up at Anthony. “We’re screwed.”

“Possibly,” Anthony said. “Maybe John Bradley reads his papers cover to cover. But just in case he doesn’t, do not take your eyes off Lucy.”

“I never do,” Zack said.


ON SUNDAY EVENING, they put the dogs out in the backyard and sanded the kitchen floor. Zack had sent Anthony out for varnish, and he’d brought back three gallons and a spray can.

“What do we need spray varnish for?” Lucy asked.

“Touch-ups,” Zack said. “Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong. Be prepared.”

Lucy looked over at him and felt her breath catch, the way it always did lately when she looked at him. He was on his knees, scraping at the last stubborn spot of glue before they began to varnish, giving it the considerable force of all his attention. His shirttail was out of his jeans, and his hair was rumpled, and his eyebrows were drawn together as he concentrated. He looked solid and electric and safe and exciting and like everything she’d ever wanted, and she felt her breath go again, just watching him.

She slumped back against the cabinets and tried to breathe normally as she looked at him. Even now, semi relaxed, he looked like a coiled spring. She ached to touch him, to feel all that electricity under her fingertips. There was so much energy in Zack, it flowed into her, too. And some of her calm went into him. Maybe he was right. Maybe they should get married. Because she knew for sure that after only two weeks, she never wanted to be with anyone else. Ever.

How could she ever want anybody else but him?

She thought of all the times in the past few days that they’d laughed and argued and talked to the dogs, and even just sat side by side together in front of the fire, warm and happy from just being together. And then she thought of how they’d made love together in the past week, how hard his body was under her hands, how sweet his skin tasted under her tongue, and her heart began to beat faster. She closed her eyes and thought about loving him there on the floor, pulling his shirt from his shoulders and running her tongue down his body, tasting him everywhere. I can’t believe I want him this much, she thought. I want all of him, all the time, everywhere.

I was never like this before.

It must be Zack.

He looked up then and caught her staring at him. “What?”

Lucy blinked.

“I told you to cut that out.” Zack pointed the scraper at her. “What?”

Lucy hesitated, torn between her usual reserve and surging lust. Zack opened his mouth again and she cut him off. “Wait a minute. I’m trying to think how to say this.”

Zack frowned and rolled off his knees to sit with his back against the stove. “Don’t think. This is me. This is us. Just say it.”

“Okay.” Lucy swallowed. “Okay. Well. Okay. It’s like this.” She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it again. It was such an inappropriate thought. Saying it out loud was out of the question.

She blinked again.

“What?” Zack said, exasperated.

“I want you,” Lucy said. “I want you… in my mouth.” She blushed. “I want you hard in my mouth.”

Zack closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, he said, “You know, you’ve got to quit taking me from zero to eighty in two seconds without a warning, or I’m going to have a stroke.” He tossed the scraper over his shoulder and rolled back onto his knees to crawl across the floor to her. “Come here.”

Lucy met him halfway, and he pulled her to him. She arched up into him to feel the pressure of his chest on her breasts as he pushed her down onto the stripped wood floor and she ran her hands up his sides under his shirt to feel the hardness of his body. And when he kissed her, his mouth warm and open against hers, she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him tightly to her.

And the phone rang.

“Oh, hell.” Zack pulled back from her, breathing deeply from her kiss.

“Ignore it,” Lucy said breathlessly and pulled him back down to her, licking her tongue in his ear as she unbuttoned his shirt.

Zack said, “Right,” and kissed her again, stroking his tongue into her mouth as he moved his hands over her. He ripped open the snap on her jeans and slid the zipper down, sliding his hand down into her jeans as he kissed her harder. Lucy rocked with the charge that surged through her, arching her hips up to meet his hand and biting him on the lip.

And the phone rang again.

“I want you so much,” she said, her eyes locked on his. “All the time.”

“Lucy,” he said and fell into her to kiss her again, pulling her up hard against him.

She pushed up at him, tilting her hips so that he rolled onto his back and she was balanced above him. He ran his hands up her sides under her big work-shirt and then back down to pull her hips tighter against his.

And the phone rang again.

She leaned forward onto him to shove her jeans off, laughing as her ringers tangled with his on the waistband as he helped her strip them down over her hips, stopping to kiss him again.

And the phone rang again.

“Oh, hell.” Tack stopped as his hands gripped her hips. He glared in the direction of the living room. “If that’s Anthony, he’s not going to quit.” He rolled and tipped her off him gently and kissed her.

And the phone rang again.

Zack sat up. “I’m going to kill him. Then I’m going to leave the phone off the hook.”

“Hurry,” Lucy whispered, and Zack kissed her again, hotly, once quickly and then again, slowly.

“Count on it,” he said when he came up for air.

The phone rang again.

Zack snarled in the direction of the phone and then stood, stopping to look at Lucy for a moment as she lay sprawled half out of her jeans on the floor. “You stay here, just like that,” he said finally. “You stay hot, too. I don’t want to find those jeans on when I get back here.”

And the phone rang again.

“Damn it!” Zack said and went to answer it.

Lucy pushed her jeans all the way off and walked through the dining room to stand in the archway to the living room in her shirt and underpants. Zack turned as he got to the phone, and she held up her jeans and dropped them on the floor. “Ta-da.”

“More,” Zack said. “Take it all off.” He picked up the phone in the middle of the next ring and said, “What?” and then he swore and hung up as she walked toward him. “I don’t know who that is who keeps hanging up-” he began as he turned back toward her.

And then one of the front windows behind them exploded, and Zack yanked Lucy off her feet and onto the floor with him.

“Stay down!” he yelled, and another window shattered, and he rolled with her to a corner near the windows but away from the shattered glass.

“What is this?” Lucy screamed back, clutching him. “What’s going on?”

And then there was silence.

“Are you okay?” Zack was holding her so tightly that she couldn’t breathe. “Are you all right? Tell me you’re all right. Say something.”

“Yes,” Lucy whispered, and his grasp on her loosened. “Those were gunshots, weren’t they? Somebody’s shooting at us.”

Zack let her go. “Just stay down and stay here. Don’t move.” He spoke quietly as he drew away from her, but Lucy could hear the excitement in his voice. She reached out and hooked her fingers in the waistband of his jeans and yanked on it hard. His knees slid out from under him sideways on the hardwood floor and he fell, half on his hip, in front of her.

“Hey, cut it out,” he whispered, annoyed. “There’s glass all over…”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lucy whispered back. “Where do you think you’re going? Somebody out there has a gun. Somebody out there is shooting at us.”

“I know.” Zack flashed his grin at her as he tried to pull her fingers off his jeans. “Isn’t it great? Let go of my pants.”