“I’ll check it out,” Adam said, shooting them a thumbs-up.

Mrs. Trigali took Mallory’s arm and led her to the patio table in the far corner where a carafe of orange juice and an open bottle of champagne stood.

After taking two plastic cups from the supply on the table, she looked at Mallory over the edge of her bifocals. Then she smiled and said in an undertone, “No need to ask how your evening with Adam went, my dear. You’re practically glowing.”

“We had a nice time,” Mallory managed to say with a straight face, although obviously the heat scorching her cheeks gave her away. Sitting in one of the patio chairs under the large umbrella, she handed Mrs. Trigali the carafe of orange juice. “How did the block captains’ meeting go?”

To Mallory’s surprise, Mrs. Trigali’s face turned bright red. “It was…fine.”

“Oh, boy. Did you and Mr. Finney argue?”

“Not…exactly.” She turned toward Mallory and bit her lip. Then she said in a rush, “As a matter of fact, we got on rather well together.”

“You did? Well, that’s great.”

“I taught him how to play canasta. He’s really awful, but since I like to win, that worked out fine. Then he taught me how to play poker. I won at that, too, but he claimed it was only beginner’s luck and he’d win next time.”

“Next time? That sounds promising. I must admit I was surprised to see you here for breakfast.”

Mrs. Trigali lifted her chin. “A woman’s gotta eat.”

Mallory laughed, but her amusement faded as her gaze riveted on Mrs. Trigali’s neck. She cocked her head to get a better view, then her eyebrows shot up. “Why, Mrs. Trigali,” she whispered, “is that a…hickey?”

Mrs. Trigali’s hand immediately fluttered to her neck and her blush deepened. “Oh, dear. I told him to have a care, but heavens, who’d have thought that a man who was such a pest could kiss so well?” She leaned toward Mallory and confided, “I’ve decided that I misjudged him. He’s not such a pest after all. And he’s very fond of my cherry lip gloss.”

At that moment Mr. Finney looked toward them from the other side of the deck where he stood in front of the grill with Adam. He sent Mrs. Trigali a broad wink and she fluttered her fingers at him in return.

Mallory smothered a laugh. “I’m glad you two have become, um, better friends.”

“Well, it’s all the fault of the blackout, my dear. Being alone with someone in the dark can put things in an entirely different light-so to speak.” She handed Mallory her mimosa then sat down across from her. “Did a night alone in the dark with Adam change your mind about not seeing him again?”

No, her better judgment shouted. Yes, her heart hollered. She sipped her drink, then shook her head. “We had a great time, but nothing’s changed.”

Mrs. Trigali reached out and patted her hand. “I’m sorry, dear. You two seem so well suited. Life’s a dance-you should find a partner.”

“True. But I need to choose a partner who enjoys the same type of music I do.”

“I suppose. But half the fun is learning new dance steps. I sense some fireworks between you and your Adam.”

Your Adam. How was it that two simple words could make her feel so unsettled? “So do I. And I don’t like it.”

“Why not?”

She heaved a sigh. “Because I don’t want to get burned.”

Mrs. Trigali nodded slowly. “I understand. When I first met my Lou, he made my heart beat fast and my knees feel like overcooked pasta. It was thrilling, yet almost frightening. Luckily I don’t scare easily, and for forty years that man weakened my knees. Never forget, my dear, that life isn’t measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. If this young man takes your breath away, think twice before you let him get away.”

A lump formed in Mallory’s throat and she sipped on her drink to dispel it. “Adam’s made a number of plans for his immediate future that make it impossible for us to get together anytime soon, if ever.”

Mrs. Trigali waved her hand. “You can’t expect that it would easy, Mallory. Remember a woman’s rule of thumb-if it has tires or testicles, you’re going to have trouble with it. No man is easy. It’s just that some are worth the effort.”

Tires or testicles? Mallory choked back a laugh and nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She was saved from further comment when Adam and Mr. Finney approached the table bearing two heaping platters of food.

“That grill is incredible,” Adam said, sitting down next to Mallory. “Like something out of a restaurant. With that large, flat cast-iron cooking surface, I’ve never seen anything like it. I made the scrambled eggs,” he said, sounding extremely proud.

“Those crispy black ones?” Mallory teased.

“Ha. Taste this.” He held a forkful of fluffy yellow eggs to her lips.

“Delicious,” she said after she swallowed the sample. “You’re a regular Emeril.”

“Who?”

Everyone laughed, then filled their plates. Talk turned to the blackout and speculation as to when the power might come back on.

“Last I heard on the radio was they were hoping everything would be back to normal by this afternoon,” Mr. Finney said.

The back gate opened and several more neighbors arrived bearing food. “Hey, Ray,” said Bill Porter who lived across the street, “got room for a few more? We come bearing Danish and doughnuts.”

“The more the merrier,” Mr. Finney said, waving them in.

After performing quick introductions to Adam, Mallory rose and said, “You can take our seats. Adam and I need to get going.”

“So soon?” Mr. Finney said.

“I’m afraid so,” Mallory said. “I have to call the clients I was supposed to meet today and figure out what we’re going to do. Thank you for breakfast. It was delicious.”

“Same time, next Sunday,” Mr. Finney said, saluting them with his grill tongs. “I’ll give you another lesson, Adam.”

An odd look passed over Adam’s features, but was gone so quickly Mallory wondered if she’d imagined it. “Thanks, but I’ll be away.”

“Oh, right,” Mr. Finney said. “The trip you mentioned. Well, maybe when you get back. The invitation is open.”

“Thank you.”

They said their goodbyes, then departed through the gate leading toward the driveway. After closing the gate behind them, Adam clasped her hand, entwining their fingers.

“Good breakfast,” he said, patting his stomach with his free hand.

“Very good.”

“And enjoyable company, although your exit strategy came at the perfect time.”

“Actually it wasn’t a strategy. I really do need to call the clients I have appointments with this afternoon and check in at my office. Realtors don’t get Sundays off.”

Adam didn’t need a magnifying glass to read the fine print beneath her words, and disappointment rushed through him. Keeping his voice perfectly neutral, he said, “So I guess that means you’ll want me to get going.”

“I’m afraid so. But you know what they say about all good things.”

Yeah. They came to an end. Who the hell had made up that crappy rule?

“Besides,” she continued, “I’m sure you have a lot to do before leaving on your trip tomorrow.”

He did. Laundry. Packing. Putting stops on his mail and newspapers. Dropping by Nick’s place to give him spare keys to his apartment and car. Lots of little details. All of which he’d been looking forward to in anticipation of his trip. None of which he now had any desire to do.

That’s because you’re not currently thinking with your big brain, man, his inner voice said with a smirk.

Very true, that.

But surely as soon as he got away from this woman he’d feel differently and his enthusiasm for his trip would return. It was just the sex that was messing with his mind. And making him reluctant to get away from her.

“Did you pick up on the vibe between Mrs. Trigali and Mr. Finney?” she asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Oh, yeah. Hey, you don’t think we were only talking about bacon and eggs over at the grill, do you?”

She turned her head to look at him and raised her brows. “Actually, yes, that’s what I thought. What else did you talk about?”

He shook his head, giving her his best regretful look. “Sorry, babe. Male confidences exchanged over grilling meats are sacred.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“How would you know this? By your own admission, you don’t know the first thing about grilling meats.”

“It’s instinctual to the male of the species. Laws of nature, laws of the jungle and all that.”

“Uh-huh.” They arrived at her house and after closing the door behind them, she leaned against the oak panel and kicked off her flip-flops. “I have ways of making you talk.”

Cocking an eyebrow at her discarded footwear, he asked, “You planning to smack me with a flip-flop?”

“Oh, no.” She shot him a blatantly suggestive look that traveled upward from his feet, lingering on his crotch, before finally meeting his gaze.

He crossed his arms over his chest in an effort to look fierce but was really to keep him from grabbing her, and narrowed his eyes. “Are you suggesting that you think you can simply exert your feminine wiles upon me and I’ll spill my secrets?”

“I’m not suggesting it-I’m flat-out saying it.”

“Ha. I’d like to see you try.”

“If I did try, you’d fold like a house of cards.”

In a heartbeat. “No way.”

“You’re really tempting me to prove you wrong.”

He slanted a crooked grin at her. “I’m trying my best.”

“In that case, I’d hate to disappoint you…” With her gaze steady on his, she slowly unbuttoned her sleeveless top, then let the garment slide off her arms and fall to the floor.

Forcing himself to remain still and not erase the arm’s length distance between them, he watched as she reached behind her and unhooked her lacy pale blue bra. His gaze tracked the path of the thin straps sliding down her arms and the bra falling to the floor to land on top of her shirt. She then settled her shoulders against the door and skimmed her hands slowly down her body.