Excerpt

Annie stared at her house, puzzled to be there. She had lost all sense of time in the fog. The drive had taken minutes or hours. At a long light on the coast highway, Will had put her hand on his thigh. In spite of the awkward stretch of her arm across the truck’s wide cabin, she had not moved it, feeling the flex of his muscle as he drove, trying to think what she should say at their parting. She wanted to let him go with dignity and courage. She was prepared. This was no unexpected sorrow, no plane crash, flood, or fire. It was merely the completion of an act begun long ago—letting go. They would both start over at last; mourning would be followed by a return to life.

But his thigh under her hand was warm and alive and a link to all they had done the night before. She should be exhausted, but she was bursting with energy. She hoped the letdown wouldn’t come until she could curl up alone in her own room.

She hadn’t counted on her neighbor.

Irene was at her front door as they came up the walk. Annie was not going to part from Will Sloan under Irene’s curious gaze. It was near nine, and Annie was in evening clothes, her hair in a loose twist, no makeup. She could see Irene’s curiosity, and the tiny streak of defiance in her character, like a minor fault line, shifted and split open. She had broken the biggest rule she’d ever made for herself, and no she had no desire to live by other people’s rules.

“Oh Annie, I thought something must have happened to you. Ginger’s been whimpering all morning.” Irene’s words were for Annie, but her gaze was all for Will Sloan.

“I’m going over to the Biddle’s right now, Irene. No need to worry.” Annie fumbled her key out of her purse.

“Well, of course. I just couldn’t imagine where you were. It’s not like you at all to …”

No, it wasn’t like her, but Annie was through being the neighborhood saint. She slipped her arm through Will’s and leaned her head against his shoulder. It felt right, actually. “Irene, this is Will Sloan, an old friend of mine.”

Irene’s mouth gaped open as Annie unlocked her door and stepped into the entry on Will’s arm. She swept the door closed on Irene’s astonished gaze.

“What are you doing?” Amusement glinted in Will’s green eyes.

“Just letting Irene know that you’re the flavor of the month.” She dropped her bag on the entry table and set off down the hall. A quick glance over her shoulder told her that she’d stunned him. “I need to change to take care of the dog. Thank you for the ride and …the great sex. You can leave whenever…”

“Whenever,” he whispered and the low sound of his voice momentarily checked her steps.

Annie grabbed jeans, a T-shirt, and sweater, locked herself in the bathroom, and tried to concentrate on how hungry Ginger must be. When she emerged to find shoes and socks, he stood at the door of her bedroom looking in.

Everything in her quickened and stirred and fluttered into life.

“Feed the dog,” he said.