“Good idea.” Hobie squirmed as Baylor slid her back against the couch. “Hmm.” She paused. “You sure you’re ready to give up the power and control of the top position?”

Baylor grinned. “I’ll risk it. Now where were we?”


“Right here.” Hobie covered Baylor’s mouth with her own. “Mmm.” Baylor moaned. Suddenly, the groans became short

and sharp. “Mmm-mmm!”


“What?” Hobie finally translated the sounds to mean Baylor was in pain.

“Don’t put your hand there, it hurts.”


Hobie immediately lifted her hand and pushed up Baylor’s T-shirt. Just underneath her ribs was the beginning of a nasty bruise. “How on earth did this happen?”

“Putt-putt course,” Baylor said as she tried to get Hobie’s mind on other things with her caresses. “I think it was the swinging monkeys. One of them waylaid me.”

“God, Baylor,” Hobie said, still examining the large bruise. Baylor’s hand slipped under Hobie’s blouse and snaked around her waist, stroking the smooth skin. “Oh, God, Baylor!” Hobie



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Maas



exclaimed again, with more enthusiasm this time.


“Ow! Just don’t lean over that way,” Baylor directed, unwilling to end her kisses.

“Hey!” Hobie cried. “Okay, now you’ve got my hair.”


“Ow, shit! Sorry, baby, but the cuts on my hand sting. Let’s try this...” Baylor tried to move out from under Hobie so they could at least lie on the couch, facing each other.

“Ouch!” Hobie cried out as a strand of hair caught on Baylor’s ring.

“I almost got it...just a sec...there, that wasn’t too hard. Whoa!” Baylor had moved a little too far toward the end of the couch. Her weight carried her until she was lying flat on her back on the floor.

“Jesus! Are you okay?” Hobie asked in alarm. It was apparent to Baylor that Hobie was trying hard not to laugh at her, especially before she found out if she had injured herself.

“Who, me?” Baylor tried to appear casual. “Oh, yeah. Cushy carpeting you have in this place. I’m getting used to falling, actually. I think there’s an art to it.”

Hobie covered her mouth to stifle her laughter.


“I feel at this point I probably should make something very clear,” Baylor said. “I don’t usually run into this many problems when making love. It usually goes much smoother than this.”

Hobie burst into laughter at last. “Are you always this...this...” She searched for a word that wouldn’t offend Baylor.

“Clumsy...a klutz?” Baylor finished. “That’s the funny part. I’m considered downright graceful by most people. This seemed to start when I arrived here on the island. For some reason, it appears to be accentuated whenever I’m around you.”

Hobie leaned over the side of the couch and reached a hand down to stroke Baylor’s cheek. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Baylor responded with a sloppy grin. The term of endearment made its way straight to her heart. “Um, you could come down here. It’s pretty comfy.” She patted the carpeted floor.

“I have an idea,” Hobie began. “What would you think if I said I wanted to wait?” She crinkled up her nose as if expecting a blow.



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Cove



“You don’t want to?”


“No! That’s not it at all.” She brushed a stray lock of hair out of Baylor’s eyes. “I do. Trust me, I do. I just want it to be...I don’t know, not perfect, but damn close. I was thinking if we waited until I took that cast off and when you healed up a little bit—”

“Not a long bit?”


“No, sweetheart, not a long bit at all.”


“Sounds practical, which kind of sounds like you.” Baylor grinned. “I guess I should—”

“I don’t want you to go, though. Would you still stay tonight?”

“Think we can manage it without killing each other?” “I’ll take my chances.”

“Then yeah,” Baylor said softly. “I want to, if only to be next to you.”

“I can arrange that. Come on.” Hobie slid off the couch and helped Baylor to her feet.

Hobie led Baylor to the now familiar bedroom. “Do you want to sleep in these?” She gently tugged the drawstring on Baylor’s borrowed sweatpants.

“I think if we plan on just sleeping, then I’d better. It’s that no-underwear thing again.”

“Spoilsport,” Hobie said with a teasing smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Hobie returned a short while later, her face freshly scrubbed and her breath smelling of mint. Baylor had seated herself on the end of the bed, unsure of where to go from there. Hobie stood in front of Baylor and it seemed the most natural thing in the world for Baylor to slip her hands around Hobie’s slim waist.

“This is my usual sleep attire.” Hobie looked down at the faded blue Chicago Cubs T-shirt. “Is it going to...bother you?”

Baylor swallowed at the sight of the white lace bikini underwear that peeked out from under the shirt. She pulled Hobie closer to her. “I think if you were wearing flannel from head to toe, you’d still turn me on.”

“You always know just what to say to me.”


“I am a writer, after all,” Baylor said with a pretentious air.



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Maas



Hobie rewarded her with a slow kiss. A slight wince and a pained moan from Baylor alerted Hobie to stop where she was. “No strenuous activity for you tonight,” Hobie said, ignoring the charming pout on Baylor’s face. “I’d say a week before all those bruises heal.”

“A week?” Baylor nearly shouted. “Five days?”


“Actually, I meant seven. There are still seven days in a week, right?” Hobie scrunched up her face and began counting with her fingers.

“Four.”


“I said seven.” “Wait...five.” “Seven.”

“Six!” Baylor pleaded.


“You’re under the mistaken impression that taking advice from your doctor is like an evening at Sotheby’s.”

“Oh, please. Come on, baby...” Baylor ended the thought by running her hands along the backs of Hobie’s thighs, pulling her closer.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Hobie laughed as she extracted herself from Baylor’s suddenly octopuslike grasp. She had been seconds away from giving in to Baylor’s sensual bargaining.

“One thing you better learn right now.” Hobie held Baylor’s chin in her fingers. “I already know how charming you are, and I know how much you like to use that charm, Baylor Warren. That sexy little pout and those magic hands may have worked on those girls you went out with before…we are talking before, right?”

Baylor held up three fingers in a Scout salute. “I only have eyes for you.”

“Good,” Hobie said as she grinned slyly. “As I was saying, that routine may have worked with the girls, but you’re dealing with a woman now.”

“Don’t I know it.” Baylor returned the smile and the light kiss that Hobie had placed upon her lips.

She settled into bed, propping a pillow under her cast. After she got comfortable, she opened her arms and nodded to Hobie, whosnuggledagainst her as though they had been doing it for years.



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Rebecca’s

Cove



“Good night,” Hobie said as she kissed Baylor’s neck. “Night,” Baylor responded. She kissed the top of Hobie’s

head. She thought Hobie had already fallen asleep when she heard her lilting laughter. “You okay?”

“I was just wondering...” “Yeah?”

“I wonder if I could get a copy of the security tape from putt-putt. You know, to see the bird when you—”

“Good night, Hobie Lynn,” Baylor said through clenched teeth.

Hobie didn’t say another word, but long into the night, Baylor heard her occasional chuckle.



“Mmm, you okay?” Hobie asked as she felt Baylor slip back into bed.

“Just had to make a pre-dawn pit stop.” She carefully situated her cast so that she could roll onto her side and curl up behind Hobie.

“Feels good,” Hobie mumbled sleepily as she felt Baylor’s body against her own. “I forgot to warn you that I have to get up later and cook Noah breakfast.”

“Won’t your mom fix him breakfast?”


“It’s a Sunday tradition. Noah likes a disgusting breakfast, his favorite treat, so I make them on Sundays.”

“What’s the treat?” “Chocolate-chip pancakes.”

“Really?” Baylor said excitedly, lifting her head off the pillow.

Hobie turned slightly to look into Baylor’s face.


“It’s chocolate. Chocolate always sounds good,” Baylor said defensively.

Hobie rolled back over and mumbled into her pillow. “You and Noah will get along famously. He likes chocolate almost as much as you do.” She felt a soft and unexpected kiss on her neck as Baylor settled against her.

Baylor was surprised at how natural it felt to be lying there with Hobie. There wasn’t any of the usual discomfort related to



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Maas



sleeping in the same bed with someone for the first time. We must be meant to be, she thought before she drifted off to sleep again.

Sunrise came sooner than she thought possible. “Arturo, get off my stomach,” she commanded sleepily.

A giggle followed Baylor’s command.


“It’s not Arturo,” Noah whispered. “It’s me, Noah. Noah Allen.” He lifted Baylor’s eyelid with a tiny index finger. “You in there, Baylor?”

“No, there’s nobody home.”