"I suppose." He stood back, gestured her in with a jerk of his head.

The moment she reached the top step, he put his hand on her shoulder, then pulled her in for a big hug. She dropped her tough stance and held on tightly.

"Leftovers that I'd be throwing away?" he murmured, his body shaking as he let out a belly laugh. "Have I ever fed you leftovers?"

"No, because thankfully you're such an awesome cook there are rarely leftovers for more than an hour." She grinned.

"Then I suppose it's lucky for you I just put together lunch."

"Oh, really?" She batted her eyes, making him laugh again, because they both knew he'd planned on her coming and that, as always, he'd made them a meal.

"Come on," he said, and drew her inside, toward the kitchen that smelled delicious. "And tell me what's new."

She did exactly that, leaving out only the news of her date with Jack Scandal Knight, probably for the same reason she hadn't spilled all to Lorissa-she had no idea what exactly to say.


* * *

For a year now, Jack had been concentrating on keeping a low profile, on just amusing himself.

He'd been pretty damn successful at it, too. He hung out with friends, rode his bike for miles every morning. Lately, he'd been spending more time with the kids Heather helped, and at the old rec center. And most recently, he'd been organizing and coaching basketball teams.

He'd been content with that, or as content as he could be. But then had come his blind date with Sam. It didn't make any sense that he couldn't stop thinking about her. She'd run with him from the reporters, she'd made the charity event fun-not an easy feat-and then later… Her kisses had made him so hot, and those little sounds she'd made in the back of her throat when he touched her, even hotter.

Not to mention bodysurfing half-naked by moonlight on a first date. That had been a welcome first. In comparison, his slow, unplanned life seemed just a tad boring. Maybe he was ready for the next phase of retirement, whatever that might be.

He hoped it included Sam.

He had looked up the number for Wild Cherries, but when he'd called, no one answered. Later, he had driven by the place, but it had been closed.

Seemed even beach girls took days off. Which was too bad because their next date seemed a long way off.

What he really needed was a distraction. And thankfully Monday night was poker night with his buddies. This was their chance to get together and blow off steam-a time to vent and forget that they were all famous celebrities, athletes, politicians… Every week, they took as much joy in razzing each other for whatever headlines they'd shown up in that week as they did in actually playing cards.

This week, Jack was the host. Cole showed up first. As always, he came dressed to be seen, wearing expensive clothes with a casual air that always boggled Jack's mind. Jack dressed up only when he had to. They'd become friends in college while sharing a dorm room, and though they'd led vastly different lives, Jack in basketball, and Cole in marketing, they'd remained tight. Mostly because Cole never deferred to Jack's celebrity status, and never talked B.S. Two traits not easily found in Jack's world.

Cole slapped a stack of magazines against Jack's chest and headed straight for the vodka behind the bar. "You're going to suffer tonight, buddy."

Jack looked down at the magazines in his hands. He'd made a few covers. Splashed across People, US Weekly and a handful of others, were shots of Jack piggybacking Sam in her little black dress across the rolling grass hills at the country club.

Another set showed them at the buffet table, oblivious to the upscale crowd around them, sharing some food, their heads close enough to kiss. On his face was a look he hardly recognized.

Pleasure.

He didn't quite know how to describe his expression in the next photo, where he was tugging Sam out of the club, other than that it was one of sheer determination, hunger and pure, unadulterated lust. "Oh boy."

"Yeah." Cole swallowed his first shot, set the glass on the bar and smiled. "She's something. You can thank me any time. You going to do her?"

"Shut up, Cole."

Cole stopped in the act of pouring another shot. He looked Jack over for a long moment. "So the pictures are telling the truth."

"What truth?"

"You're into her."

"I don't know what I am."

"No?" Cole toasted him with his glass. "Well, you'd better figure it out before the other guys get here, or they'll tear you apart."

They tore him apart anyway until he lost all dignity. And in a sign of how far he'd lost his edge, he also nearly lost his shirt, too.


* * *

On Tuesday, Jack refereed three boys' basketball games and then, needing a different kind of connection, tried calling Sam again-yet another sign of how far gone he was. While he sat in his car listening to the phone ringing, he tried to create a mental list of the things that had bothered him about her, his usual MO for not having date number two.

But his list turned up short. In fact, it was non-existent.

"Hello," she answered breathlessly.

"Sam, it's Jack."

Silence.

"Jack Knight," he said, and felt very stupid.

"I remember who you are, Jack. The first man I've ever bodysurfed with at midnight."

An idiotic grin split his face. The first? He liked that, he liked that far too much. "So how are you?" he asked, discovering that the usual easy conversation starter, the one that had always meant nothing, suddenly mattered. He really did want to know how she was.

"I'm up to my elbows in brownie mix if you want the truth, and this time, I have a good feeling about it."

"Why? Do you usually have a problem with brownies?"

She sighed. "I make the best sandwiches under the sun. Cookies, too. But I'm an utter failure at brownies. Today, I break the curse."

"Want a personal taster?"

"You mean…"

"For brownies, I'd drive to China. I'll come over and sample them for you."

"No! I mean, I'm not sure that's a good idea. I've never managed a good batch yet."

"If they're awful, I promise I won't even mention it."

"Look, I- No. No, thank you. I'm sorry-"

His grin faded. He'd misread everything. "No, it's okay. I understand-"

"It's just that the other night was so…" She let out a breath.

"Yeah." From stupid to mortified.

"So I guess I'm just hoping that by Saturday, I'll see you and realize I've just exaggerated how much fun you were."

Suddenly, he didn't feel anything but good, damn good. "Best of luck with the brownies, Sam."

"The brownies-" Something clanged in his ear, and he realized she'd dropped the phone. He waited, and when she came back, she was irritated. "Got to have that oven checked. The damn thermostat is out and it's over-cooking everything."

"Blaming the oven?"

"What? You want to hear that you distracted me and I overcooked them? You've been distracting me for days. Go away, Jack. And stay out of my head until Saturday. Please."

"I will if you will."

"You're having the same problem?"

She sounded far more wary than amused, and his own pleasure faded, replaced by other emotions he didn't want to face. "See you Saturday," he said softly, and hung up.

He lasted two days, during which he kept himself busy organizing and registering basketball players for a kids' league at the rec center before he called Wild Cherries again. He'd have called her at home, but didn't have that number. He liked that she hadn't given it to him-it meant she'd been utterly honest about being commitment phobic, which was always a damned attractive trait in a woman.

And yet his heart had started a heavy, excited beat at the thought of hearing her voice again.

"Wild Cherries," she answered the phone, sounding breathless. "Can I help you?"

"Sam."

"Hey." There was a smile in her voice, and suddenly there was one on his face as well.

"Just wanted to hear you."

"You're hearing me. What's up?"

"You surf today?"

"Yeah." She covered the mouthpiece to speak to someone, but he could still hear her. "Knock it off, Nash, I am not going to tell him that."

"Tell me what?"

"I made the mistake of serving a few friends some lunch and now they're being obnoxious."

"What did they want you to tell me?"

She hesitated, then laughed. "That they'll, and I quote, kick your butt if you hurt me. They don't realize they're threatening Jack Scandal Knight."

"Holy crap," said an awed voice.

Sam laughed. "As for surfing, it was rough today, and I got my butt kicked out there. Lorissa had a great time laughing at me when I face-planted right in front of her."

"You okay?"

"Not a scratch. How about you? What are you up to?"

Thinking of you. "Lost at poker the other night. Badly."

"Ouch. You should play me sometime, it will make you feel better about yourself." She laughed. "I'm horrible. Last time I played strip poker-"

He choked out a laugh. "I was not playing strip poker with the guys."

"Oh." She laughed, too. "Of course not. So how about that weather, huh?"

"Oh, no, we're not changing the subject, yet. About this strip poker thing…"

"It was a long time ago," she said primly now, though he could still hear the smile in her voice.

"How about we rectify that?"

"Are you suggesting-"

"Definitely I'm suggesting. We play. I'll give you pointers."

"Uh-huh."

"Hey, I have your best interests in mind."

Her soft chuckle was outrageously sexy. "Maybe some other time," she said. "Did you see the magazines?"