“I was stunned when they said okay. They trusted me. Then, of course, I

had to move up there, even though it was a little scary. I had to bribe the dog to sleep up there with me. I miss my dog.”

“Aww.” She tipped her head to his shoulder. “He was a great dog.”

“Yeah, he was. I think about getting a dog, but then I remember I’m really not home enough, and it doesn’t seem fair.”

“Two dogs.”

He ducked his head to look at her. “Two?”

“They’d keep each other company when you weren’t there. They’d be pals, hang out, talk about you when you were gone.”

The idea tickled him. “That’s a thought.”

He turned, slipped an arm around her, rubbed his lips over hers. “When I got a little older, sometimes I’d bring girls down here to neck.”

“I know. We used to spy on you.”

“You did not.”

“Of course we did.” She snorted out a laugh because he looked both stunned and deeply disconcerted. “It was entertaining and educational. It helped give us a heads-up on what to expect when it was our turn.”

“Jesus.”

“You got to second base here with Serena Willcott.”

“Okay, that’s it. Memory Lane’s closed.”

“You had smooth moves, even then. I bet you could get to second base with me here, too.” She took his hand, slid it up her body, pressed it lightly to her breast. “See? You’ve still got it.”

“I’ve worked some new ones in since Serena Willcott.”

“Is that so? Why don’t you try them out on me?”

He leaned in again, a brush of lips, a rub, a gentle nip while he used just his fingertips.

“Okay, yeah, that’s a good one.”

“If that worked, I might try this.” He slid his finger down her throat to the top button of her shirt, flicked it open. “Not too fast,” he murmured against her mouth, “not too slow.” He opened the second button, then the third, pausing between to glide his fingertips over newly exposed skin.

“Yeah, you’ve probably improved.” Her heart was already skipping. She made a sound of approval as his lips trailed along her throat, then one of surprise when his hand circled around to unhook her bra.

“Well done,” she managed. “We should take this inside.”

“No.” Still kissing her, still touching her, he laid her back. “Right here.”

“But—”

“I don’t think four little girls are spying on us tonight. And I want you. I want you here, by the water, under the starlight, on the grass, in the air.”

His tongue swept under the loosened cup of her bra, over her nipple, and sent a shiver of need along her skin.

He made her weak; made her want to be. He made her want to give herself over to him and what he stirred in her. The warm grass, the warm air, the easy play of his hands, his lips, left her wanting nothing more than what was here and now. So she entrusted herself to the moment and to him, while to her dazzled eyes the stars seemed to burst to life in the sky.

The scent of her, seductive as the summer night, allured. The taste of her, so irresistible, stirred. He let his hands wander, to tease and to pleasure while the night deepened around them, cloaked them. Over the hum of the summer evening, an owl began its two-note call.

Moonlight danced on the surface of the pond, and on her body as he undressed her.

She started to sit up to unbutton his shirt, but he pressed her back.

“Not yet, not yet.” His gaze swept over her, the hunger in it bringing another shiver over her skin. “You can’t know how you look. You can’t know.”

He needed, craved, the touch, the taste, now. All of her, all his. He took, let the greed come so her cries and moans only sharpened his arousal. Her nails dug, her body bucked, and still he drove her on.

Now those stars exploded, blinding her. She couldn’t find her breath as sensations pummeled her. It felt wicked, wonderful, to lie there, near to helpless, naked, crazed, while he did what he chose. His shirt brushed her breast, and she moaned again.

She wanted his flesh against hers, desperately, and yet knowing he was dressed and she exposed heightened the excitement toward a delirious panic. And even that burst.

“Now. Inside me. Oh God! Del.”

She tugged at his shirt, his belt until together they managed to strip him.

She rolled. Straddled him. Took him.

Pleasure swamped her, and spurred her. Her head fell back as she steeped herself in it. He laid his hands on her breasts, then glided them down her body. Then gripped hers.

The storm rose, wildly, and they rode it out together.


SHE’D MEANT TO TEASE HIM A LITTLE, TEMPT HIM A LITTLE—some groundwork for what she’d expected to follow in her bedroom. Now, she thought, she lay naked, stunned, and exhausted by the pond where the fat frog croaked in what might have been approval.

She’d just had wild outdoor sex with Del by the pond where they’d often played as children.

She wasn’t quite sure if that was weird or wonderful.

“Second base?” He ran a hand down her back, over her ass, and back again. “Baby, that was a grand slam.”

She had to laugh, it was a little wheezy, but she had to. “Good God, Del, we’re naked and sticky. What if Mac and Carter, or Emma and Jack had decided to take a walk down this way?”

“They didn’t.”

“But what if—?”

“They didn‘t,” he repeated, his voice as lazy as the hand that continued to stroke. “Besides, they’d’ve heard you making sex noises before they got close enough to see anything—then they’d’ve politely taken another direction while they sighed in envy.”

“I didn’t make sex noises.”

“Oh yeah, lots of them. Grade-A porn sex noises. You could have a fallback career there.”

“I most certainly do not—”

He rolled on top of her, slid down and found her breast with his mouth. She couldn’t quite bite back the gasp and groan.

“Hear that? Wasn’t me.”

Because he just nuzzled in, she found her breath again. “Okay, well, it’s good to know if Vows goes under I can make a living doing porn moan-overs.”

“You’d be a star.”

“Maybe you should gag me.” When he lifted his head and grinned, she felt heat wash over her. “Not really. I don’t think.”

“We’ll keep it as an option.” He lowered his head again, but eased over to take his weight off her. “If we’d thought to pitch a tent we could just stay here all night.”

The idea made her snort. “When’s the last time you went camping?”

“I think I was twelve.”

“Yeah, not your thing. Or mine. I guess we need to get dressed and get up to the house.”

“We’re naked and sticky. But I can fix part of that.” He wrapped around her, rolled, rolled.

Her brain engaged, too late, but soon enough to understand what he had in mind. “No, Del! You can’t—”

They hit the cool water of the pond tangled together. She didn’t swallow much, and wiggled and kicked her way to the surface to sputter it out. While she did, he laughed like a lunatic.

“Shit! Shit!You maniac! There are frogs in here. And fish. Fish!” She squealed it as something fluttered against her leg. She struck out for the bank, but he nabbed her.

“It feels great.”

“Fish.” She shoved at him. “Frogs.”

“You and me. I’m naked in the pond with Laurel McBane.And she’s all slippery. Oops,” he said when his hand slid between her legs, when he cupped her.

“Del.” Breathless now, clinging. “We’ll drown.”

“Let’s find out.”

They didn’t drown, but she barely had the strength to pull herself out and onto the grass where she lay gasping for air.

“We never,

never saw anything like that through the binoculars.”

He reared up in shock. “You had binoculars?”

“Of course we did. We couldn’t get close enough to see anything without binoculars. But the frog? He didn’t need them, and he’s seen entirely too much.”

“He’ll keep quiet about it if he wants to keep his legs.”

She managed to turn her head, meet Del’s eyes. “Now we’re naked and wet.”

“But happy.”

She smiled. “I can’t argue with that. But how are we going to get into the house?”

“I’m a Brown. I have a plan.”

In the end, she wore his shirt, he wore the pants, and they balled up the rest. Still damp, and trying not to laugh, they snuck in the side door to make the dash to her room.

“I think we pulled it off,” she said and dumped her load the minute the door was closed. “Now I’m freezing. I need a hot shower.”

“Yeah, you probably do. You look like somebody who just had sex in the pond.”

He put his arm around her to warm her as they walked toward the shower.

“Del? Remind me to do some extra training the next time I make you dinner.”


SHE SLEPT LIKE A WOMAN IN A COMA, AND SURFACED JUST AS groggy and disoriented when her alarm sounded.

“No, it’s a mistake. It can’t be morning.” She opened one eye, read the time display on her clock—and with a resigned slap, turned off the alarm.

Beside her Del murmured something, and tried to draw her back.

“I have to get up. You should just go back to sleep, stay in bed.”

“Good idea.” He rolled over.

She scowled at him, then got up to dress in the dark.

Down in her kitchen she brewed coffee, and drank the first cup hot and black while she scanned her day’s schedule. It might as well have been written in Greek.

To clear the cobwebs, she poured a second cup, added a generous spoonful of sugar, then got a muffin out of her tin. She took the coffee and the muffin outside, into the air, into what was arguably her favorite time of day.